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13 May 2018


Sure as dawn follows night
My heart longs to be yours
Make me yours, take my soul
Let me die but in your arms

Sure as sunshine after storm
My being craves for your love
In comfort or agony, I 'll endure 
Let me die but don't let me go

She's gentle and sensitive 
But she seldom gives up.
Through ups and downs 
She's always there for us
Bearing the mother's pain
Of labour and raising kids
Of health or mental stress.
Four brothers who made it 
Tougher as we grow older.
The hope she pines on us 
Were tested umpteen times
Not once did she give up on us.
We aren't the easiest kids
Nor the promising kind
Yet she clings on to the hope
Of her kids doing well finally.
Thank God I have a mother 
A mother I could be proud of
And one who refuse to give up.

10 March 2017


Lonely and shady is the path
Trees lining up as onlookers
Save for the occasional whips
Of breeze swooshing the leaves
Silence escorts me on and on
As the moon plays hide and seek
I asked where the path leads
All I see is tranquillity in motion
If I wake up from this reality
And there’s a beyond reality
Would it still be this lonesome?
Though drowned in doubts
A certainty remains afloat
When You hold and walk with me
In loneliness, in reality or beyond
You will always be my comfort

29 November 2016


In the woods, no soul dwelled
Where silence is deafening
Footfalls and broken twigs
Hastened the heart and mind
Abides peace I seek elsewhere

Amidst gunshots and wailing
Where noises are deafening
Dawn of peace ever doubtful
Mere survival highly expensive
Sits my home I find nowhere

In deafening noise or silence
Where might seems to be right
Justice be denied or delayed
In fearful whispers or loud cries
Truth 'll prevail for peace to reign

23 June 2016


What good is relation

Based on ethnic lines

What good is religion 

That divides or hates

What good is society

That kills the weaker

What good is politics

That fools the masses

Men's organs for sale

Mom's womb for hire 

Boys for cheap labour 

Girls given to brothels

Innocent people die

Nobody cares or cries

Are we really doomed 

To be mere materials

Everything is for sale 

Not just Kalashnikovs

The mercenaries too

Self-styled extortionists 

And the vote capturers 

And the bandh callers

Babus are now cheaper

But not the politicians

All for the right price 

In a shop called Manipur