Feelings Unspoken

How long shall I sit in this beautiful world of devil?
Living in the mess of worth and worthless.
Moving around in search o the slightest ray of hope,
The day I’ll earn a name for myself.
Surrounded by cameras in that glamorous world,
It’s just not me.
I’m that bit of paper which is awaited in the early morning,
Flipped through the pages and then forgotten.
I’m that preface which never comes to a conclusion.
I’m that bit of paper that’s pointed by the elders .
A mere spelling mistake by who becomes a blunder,
And when I tend to apologize the very next day I’m deprived of the same.
Instead my work is termed as a part of the game.
How long shall I sit amongst such cunning people and commercial places of worship?
How shall I survive in this race without values, this race without respect, this race without other selfishness?
Where is the end of the have or have not's?
Where is the end of stars and wars?
Suspend me to a world that’s free,
Release me where the innocent hearts are served without fear.
For I don’t deserve being criticized for my work if not respected,
Because life is a rhythm of ups and downs,
The downs are not just meant for me.
I deserve being remembered,
And not “dead” for my eagerness and passion to prove myself right.
I deserve being cherished as an impactful creator of thought penning the dreams down to reality,
And not being “sold” every 3 months to get money back in return.
For I do not mind climbing the arduous ladder of success,
I do not believe in parallel lines abridged with money,
I’m way beyond that unnoticed name beneath my own work.
I too am a human being worthy enough for a life,
I’m a face with a hundred curves.

Someday Soon

As I entered the bright room
It felt like the door opened itself to a new dimension,
Like a world inside a world,
Like a way amidst the puzzle,
Like the dove was finding its blue-green Earth which is hidden somewhere behind the clouds of grey,
Like some tender voices surrounded me.
As I proceeded further, the voices became clear
Like all of them were wanting something,
Like an urge to make the world a better place ceased my heart and theirs too,
The room
Like a world inside a world,
There were stick figures dizzy enough to be precisely noticed
Some looking at the lush green surroundings outside the window,
Some making a place for themselves,
Some found it difficult to hear the others,
Some observed the awkward silence that prevailed intervals,
Some wanting to be heard,
Some wanting to be seen,
Some just found a place to sleep,
Some wanting to speak,
Some just sat and fought.
As I walked by I realized
The confused yet seemingly united voices,

An appreciative gesture- Blog review

Poets Paradise
It is a mysterious, dark and catchy blog. At first, it's difficult to catch up with but when you sit at the corner and ponder upon the writings, you notice you can connect to them. Udit Sharma tries to keep it intense yet simple. It is not very flowery but at the same time what makes it beautiful is how the writer relates himself with a particular situation and pens it down without giving it a thought to how it may look to the people. One of my personal favorites is "The mask that fell" because somewhere down the line all of us have went through the phase where people show their true colours- good9or bad when the other person is no longer benefiting to them. Its then that we realise who have been the ones who've been true to us all the while.
It is a must read for dark poetry readers and enthusiasts.

Link: thehiddensoulinme@blogspot.com

A Dance To The Moon

Dance is a form of emotional expression. Dancing is both an art and a form of recreation. It may tell a story or even set a mood. Dance is the art form in which human movement becomes the medium for sensing, understanding, and communicating ideas, feelings, and experiences.
Being a dancer is not as easy as it seems. They sweat; they work and work until they cannot work anymore. They work until their feet bleed and muscles tear, and still continue to dance fearlessly.
Dance is often termed as a soft sport but even the athletes work until they cannot work anymore. The difference lies in the thinking.
A true dancer’s body in motion transcends time and sheds away all the pious parameters. The pulsating music sways through them and their movements, their gestures and their eyes speak for them. They communicate with words unspoken. The feelings are expressed through their dance.
It takes an athlete to dance but an artist to be a dancer. These few lines aptly describe all the dancers, and the child within all of us that wants to dance like nobody is watching:
“When Life Spoke To Me”
My soul screamed for attention,
It wanted me to awake.
“You‛re immersed in the joy;
What more will it take?”
If dance is within me
It‛s got to come out.
“You are the dance,” the
Small voice started to shout.
“You don‛t make the music,
That‛s not what you do.
Awake to discover –
The music is you.”
To the small voice within
You need to attune.
So, get up and do it,
If it‛s dance to the moon.

If we put our heart into dance, the efforts of any dancer would never go unnoticed
Because as it is said by Albert Einstein, “Dancers are athletes of God”

An Escape Into Reality

Life rolls on bringing forth its share of ups and downs
I sail through the turbulent seas and fly across the heavenly clouds.
Take resort in my sole solace, I and my solitude.
Flash-comes a panorama of events, of times when I  was apparently love lorn and remind me of the person who had carved a niche in the deepest sanctuaries of my heart but eventually when the harsh forces of reality removed the mask over my illusions, the veil was abandoned.
Abandoned suddenly.
The greatest shock to me.
Dreams u cherished had shattered an instant and the broken pieces of the reverie remained scattered.
Not knowing what to do, surrounded by gloom.
Grim uncertainties, life insignificant.
Everyone saw me brimming  life but I heard the sound of my weeping soul.
Eventually, I discovered there was nothing as beautiful as a dew drop on a petal.
How could I call it love?
Back to the present- a jerk to reality.
Love, then, was a misunderstood emotion.
Love for me had been superficial.
Love in reality, is far from mundane.
'Much above superficiality' is what they say.
Love consists of fragments of joy.
Little packages of simple pleasures, precious and rare.
Companionship, where there is no pretence.
A feeling of warmth amidst the surrounding gloom.
Love is everlasting,unbiased and with no prejudice.
It brings along a fair share of waiting but the ultimate feeling of being in love engrains in the blood-'the essence of living'
Realization of through finally through late
Love is above the 'mundane' and transient infatuation.

When The Thunder Stroke

The clock struck 11 am, the class seemed more crowded than the usual days, Seema had flunk in the history test shouted the merit list on the door.
She was surprised and upset, unable to digest the very thought of it.
As she finally managed to gather some strength and walk through with those legs turned into jelly-like sticks, she noticed Mahima amidst the scrunchy crowd.
Mahima caught her eye and ran towards her.
Hugging each other they decided to sit back in the corridor which seemed peaceful at that moment in time.
Gazing each other, not even a second passed and tears started rolling by their eyes.
Amused by Mahima’s reaction, she asked “Why are you crying over my failed attempt?” to which she replied “Jay left me alone, all alone. How could he? Does he even realise what he means to me? “
Helplessly sitting beside her on which situation to concentrate on, Seema invited her for a sleepover at her house.
The bell rung in the evening and it was the much awaited guest at the door.
Seema’s mom was very supportive and encouraged her to study harder the next time rather than making an issue out of it. She had rather prepared her favorite delicacies and welcomed Mahima wholeheartedly.
The two of them went for a long stroll as well.
 Lying on the bed at night after a huge failure in the daytime.
As angst, sorrow, pain and agony filled their head ,all they wanted to do was die.
Their efforts to achieve their goal had terribly failed.
They felt hurt as if they were lacerated by a knife.
Asking the almighty “You gave us life but no zest.
Give us something to hold on to and prove the world wrong or else just kill us.
We don’t want to live, no more!”
A lightning thundered with such celestial light that could only have been the holy.
He asked “Who afflicted this pain?
Tonight whatever you ask for would be yours.”
Overjoyed and ecstatic, they replied “To be successful and to achieve all the goals set for ourselves.
With a benign sigh and high hopes from them being shattered, God replied “Why do you want your life to be superficial, keep doing your work with all your heart in it, true efforts never go in vain.”
They were still lying on the bed but happy and ecstatic, they finally found the purpose of their life.