A Sailor’s Verse

If only I could float, like you

From place to place

Without looking back with some guilt

At the port I am leaving

Where not would I go !

And where not would I reach!



The Refugee

It was just a ride

Yet the sky seemed gloom

With clouds and a cold breeze

A rain soaked afternoon.

Silence and just the three of us

Silence and not even a faint sigh

Are they living ice cubes ?

That in rain they will melt and die.

As for those who stayed indoors

With their eyes fixed on the frame

Pity for them, no mockery please

They just haven’t played this game.

Somewhere beyond the hills and hamlets

Somewhere beyond the human sea

Is a place for us, insane wayfares

Is a refuge for us, for you and me.

So I wonder…

If it was just a ride?

With thunders and stroms

And many a threatening gesture!

Three boys and three cycles

Hell Yeah! it was an Adventure.


The Unknown

At a winter’s night
An unknown sound
While dew keeps settling
The sweating ground
But what’s that noise?
At a night so long
From an unknown place
Some unknown song!
And what’s that rustling ?
As winter breathes
Those the leaves
Of the unknown trees
Where we once stood
Hand in hand
Today I’m alone
On this distant land
My voice all stolen
Just can’t scream
Caught up somewhere
In an unknown dream!
This can’t be true
One more lie?
But the mirror reflects
An unknown guy!

– ayus

U Remember ???

At first I hesitated. Then I picked up some courage and walked up to the exact spot where we used to sit. I slowly sat down.

Then I slowly moved my hand over the sandy soil, then the trees and then the dry leaves that lay on the ground. I closed eyes so that I could feel the place.

The place where we gathered during the Tiffin break. Me , Prithvijit and Anish. It was our favourite place and no one ever came there to disturb us. We would sit over there under those trees which were later named Lucifer trees by Prithvijit after he saw the letter ‘L’ written on them. One day he even stole a chalk from the class and wrote Lucifer on those trees.

This was the place where we did all crazy things like summoning a ghost and planning out our secret operations.

My good old school and those days of class ten with my two best friends.

Well time victimizes us. Some of us hate looking back and search for a new beginning. Some of us, like me, hate looking back but still look back because deep inside we can’t cut loose our previous attachments. But eventually we all move on!


Thought Of The Night

A dry and cold afternoon 

Spread across the streets, the gardens and all around.

Feels so calm , soothing and pretty.

But then…

The night crawls in

Got to wait till dawn to get the warmth of  the Sun.

Thats a long way!

And no one knows what might happen during the night.

Will all of us see the dawn?

Nobody is quite sure.

But surely, the dawn would come!


The Ghost And The Waiter

The Occasion

It was the beginning of something.
Something new and fresh.
Something no one had ever seen before.
People were really excited to it.
No one precisely knew what it was but just because it was something new, they were excited.

I somehow pushed my way through the crowd.
The afternoon seemed blank.
As blank as the occasion .

And now you might be thinking, ” Man what’s going on! Can you clarify? Will you spill the beans?”

In fact I still don’t know what was going or why was I there or what had happened.

I just remember the crowd and the noise , and… is there anything I am missing out ?
Probably not.

The Waiter

A face.
How can forget that?
The face!
Someone I used to know.
As blank as that afternoon.
Empty and void from any expression.
So unknown.

And I said,” But that’s your job!”
“Excuse me , Sir , I was asking for your order”
My senses returned.
“Oh! I am sorry…I will have a bottle of coke.”
The waiter walked away.

Ana asked ,”Hey what’s wrong?”
“No I am fine.”
“Just a bit tired!”
“Of what “
“Of waiting”
“Sorry , I mean the day has been hectic.”


The Ghost

After dropping Ana I was walking back to my home.
“Whats so special about the face?” someone spoke.

I turned around, there was no one.

“Come on, watching me isn’t so important , is it?
“What’s going on?”

“May be you are just tired”

“Why can’t I see you?”

“Well unlike the television screen, in real life you don’t get to see the people who have seized to exist.”

“What do you want?”

“I like helping people , and apart from that you can gift me a Lamborgini!”

“Who are you ? And why are you doing this?”

“You see I am the waiter. We met today a the restaurant, remember? And all I want to tell you is that waiting itself is a tedious job and it seems even more disgusting when you know that you are waiting!”

I never heard that voice again.

-the end


Something More

The Physics class was going on. I was sitting on the last bench, when my eyes fell on the bench next to me. On the desk something very beautiful was written.


Now if you are reading this line for the first time, I will tell you something about it. This line has been taken from the story ,”The Kite Runner”, a story about friendship, a tale of redemption written by none other than the master story teller Khaled Hosseini.


I blankly gazed at the line for a few minutes. This used to be my favourite line. But when was the last time I have said these words to someone? I remember. I had said this my friend, Riccardo, when we were in class 9.(I don’t remember the cause)

Now I am in class 11. Probably in the last two years I have never told the people I love, how much I care for them. In fact I wonder if I have really cared. The last two years have been somewhat like : board ex├áms…result…admission in good school…class 11 studies…performance in coaching centre and so on.

With relentless competition in the society all we think of is to become better than others. But the question is in order to become something more than other humans…have we become something less?

I wonder…


The Ghost of No Where

I haunt the nights 

With empty hands.

Cold winds out break

Through Moon-lit lands;

Alone I walk 

Seek unseen strands —

And mumble in the breeze,

Like whispering sand!

I garnish the air

With sundry illusions,

With twisted dreams

And dense dillusions.

You can’t stop me

There are no solutions!

Like a stupid riddle:

With endless conclusions.

When, beyond the mid-night,

You are quietly sleeping;

And wake up suddenly,

Sweating and screaming

I’m the ghost of no where!

I’m silenlty sneaking!

Watching you wonder

And say,”Was I dreaming?”

Alone this evening?

Want some fun?

Leave your body!

And we’ll go for a run!

To see the distant

Horizon burn,

With remaining light

Of the sinking Sun.