Withered Old Book 

A well designed road led to a well planned city 

Gates were open in welcome just for me. 

Crossing the threshold, I dreamt of dreams with eyes open wide 

Held together by fragments of hope lost over time. 

Maybe this is it, my haven. 

A place where I belong, this city of my dreams.  

Call it a day dream, a dream nonetheless,

Starting something new, call it a chapter in my withered old book. 

Threads of Gold 

Gliding above the clouds, far away from the bustling crowd

Sunny day, extraordinary light and yet a chill in the air 

Inside it was warm, cozy enough to lull me to sleep 

Singing my lullaby, the sun stood high in the sky 

Was it a dream or a trance? 

I woke up and behold! 

I saw threads of gold! 

Appearing in seconds, in seconds turning to moments turning to memory 

Too bright to look, I closed my weary eyes

For I fear I am not so bold 

Still in my mind’s eye, I saw the threads entwining into fields of gold! 

Don’t Turn Me Away For My Way Of Prayer 

Don’t ask me to go 

Its my home too, you know 

I was born and bred on the same soil as you 

Ate the same grain from the lands I call my own 

As you do. 

Don’t turn me away just because I believe differently 

The intention is the same, my faith is kind 

As is yours. 

The prayers reach the same place 

I just join my hands in a different way. 

I read the same history, I stood up for my Anthem 

I chanted my love for our country as you did too. 

So why call me a stranger when I am one of your own? 

Don’t turn me away for my way of prayers. 

Write To Me 

Write to me. 

Write to me of days and night

Of the morning breeze, of that first light. 

Write to me of the stars in the sky 

And how you watch the moments pass you by 

Write to me of your happy and sad times 

When you laughed till your belly hurt, or when you felt the burden of tears 

Write to me. 

Write to me from your heart’s deepest chambers 

Of your secrets and your lies. 

Write to me of moments which broke you 

Of people who shared your life and left you. 

Write to me of the times gone by 

And times you live in. 

Write to me till your last breath escapes your lips 

Then write to me in my dreams about your dreams you dreamt of me. 

I Forgot

I thought and I racked my brains

To remember why the date seemed familiar

I could not recall

And today, It clicked.

I cannot believe, I did not remember.

It struck as momentous and yet I could not place my finger on it

Slippery slope, this memory is

Eroding away, identities, relations, time.

My Ghost 

You are my ghost, you pass through me 

When you smile at me, I revolve around you 

Like moon is to earth 

I am to you, wisps of the wind 

Playing tricks, I see through you 

As you pass right through me for you are my ghost 

A friendly wisp of the wind, surrounding me.