Perseverance...

Perseverance is an art...that can only be practiced but never perfected. 

                                                                                  - Vikas Sharan 

Bas ek tasvir ki chahat liye...

Dil mein dastak de rahi hai woh

Na jaane kyon

Apna sa lag rahi woh

Kya bayaan karun

Hale dil hai jo

Bas ek tasvir ki chahat liye

Deedar ko taras raha hai woh

Chand lamhe bhi sadiyaan lage

Tere aane ki aarzoo mein

Aur ek tu hai

Ki tujhe meri

Is tadap ki khabar tak nahi

       - by Vikas Sharan

My Morning's Delight

My morning’s delight

For days you haven’t been

The effect is somber

I wake up tired, bloodshot eyes

A gush of air, across my face

Fails to drive you away

And I remember you

Conceited woman, wanton love

Futile desire, I mull over

Your treachery, albeit with no anger

Though gone, you are just at the turn

The play is stupidity, my princess

No more you can run

Luxury, worldly pleasure

You desire lavish affairs

But everything comes for a price

There is no remembrance

Of kisses we shared, the way we loved

Though I clearly remember the beginning

Of the end that was

My morning’s delight

For days you haven’t been

Darkness within, morning’s delight

For no more you will ever be

I don't even try...

Everywhere – around, behind, at the front, and by the sides, the ugly and cruel face of poverty stares at me, mocks me. And, I see the mockery of life, brashly laughing at me, on me. Innocent faces wearing the mask of adulthood; soul – deprived of love, of care and yet getting on with life in the manner they have learned – begging, cheating, enticing the flesh hunters and getting poisoned, intoxicated to forget the worries; the realities for a few moments. These few moments are their bliss and they live in these few make-believe dream moments – only to get back to the world they know. I wish I could change their world, make it better in some way. Their world pains me, keeps me awake, and makes me cry. I feel ashamed over my helplessness and for the fact – I don’t even try…

To Break Free...

There is no form……no confinement……only chaos……you mould…….you lend….you conform……yet in essence…..nature…and everything else is free of any mould….of any shape that can be a limitation……..everything has to let go…….there is always an opening…..always….and freedom to mould….to break free…..to re-conform…….

For What I Could Never Own

Surrounded by a melee

Of loved ones, kin and friends

Still I look beyond

Searching for the unknown

Even in crowd, I am all alone

A handful proffered

Yet my hands do not come together

To cup the things that I owned

My restless soul

I do not find peace

Even with myself

Nor with anyone else

Now I dread life

With each passing day

It draws near

To the final truth

There is no love

Yet, I do not fear

I am already dead

In spirit, all feelings have bled

I yearn for happiness

My darkened soul

Though will go to hell

For I deserve no pity

My heart aches for love

Love I spurned

Still I look beyond

For what I could never own