A Day.

The sight of the happy birds
chirping to the music of winds,
somewhere far away
on a broken window frame
of an old abandoned home
narrating fables of love and trivialities,
to a forgotten universe
where a little portion of the sun
is just enough to dry your tears,
turns into a dream at night
in the same way day breaks,
in forever and repeated mundanity
that doesn't seem to bother you.
The woods whisper lullabies
that blends into your mood in the morn.
While the silhouettes of loneliness
are embraced by dark night,
and comforted by the stars' presence,
little did you think about
the grass that that missed the Lilly blooms.

My haikus.

Let songs and stories
take you to the place
where you'd like to go.

Aisi kya majburi hai?
Jo aap khush rehne se
mana kar rahe ho?

Home

What feels like home to you?
A particular taste, a scent,
or the untainted laughter
of some neighbourhood kids?

For me,
Home is a long chat
with an old friend,
cycling along a zigzag lane,
getting soaked in the spring rain.

When losing to your siblings
at a little game of 'kori'
was the biggest conceivable defeat.
when the rule that mattered
was to remain happy,
and stories by grandma
would lull you into the night.

Did you find your home yet?
Or are you still looking for it?
Among the sepia tinted photographs,
the marble collection that
you could never let go of.

Look inside of you,
shatter one at a time,
the axioms of  being adult.
Think like a child,
Maybe you'll find your home.