Photo by Aaron Burden One of the last vestiges of being human, The unseen moments of tenderness, Shown towards one another, Bringing hope to each. They say we are not completely lost, They say somewhere deep within, A part of us is still fighting, Fighting to keep our humanity afloat. In those many layers lie hidden, The actions we leave behind, One of compassion and concern, Towards a fellow being who walks alongside They are the silver lining behind dark clouds, The creators way of showing us who we are, A social creature above all, With a capacity to empathize. Silently seeping inside, Creating a positive reaction towards each other, Unspoken but felt at our core, Nurturing a sense of friendship and comfort. Unnoticed and unconscious by nature, They rise above our ego and pride, The gestures we show, Towards one another who we live by.

Photo by Ester Marie Doysabas Will I be part of the history that is written, Or fade away as part of the history forgotten, Will I live eternal in the words on these pages, Or will I be a memory struggling against time. It is a choice I make Live for glory or live like just another, Be remembered after I am gone, Live in the memories of others. A part of me that lie dormant woke, And drove the change that was needed, With unprecedented force I had not experienced, Compelling me to oblige with obedience. I had side lined this part of me before, Now he was in control, He was the result of my father's teaching, Bold and meticulous in his ways. He was late to wake up, But I'd say it was better than never, Years of learning had created a full being, Living inside me growing alongside. We are now one, He lives through me as I him, Forged a middle ground to coexist, To live passionately with ambition.

Photo by Aditya Saxena Fly like birds, Soaring in the skies, Majestic Kings of the earth above, Beyond the sight we are gifted. See what they see, From heights unimaginable, The miniscule details of this land, We plunder and conquer. The effects we have had, The transformations we have caused, The ugliness we have created, And the beauty we have destroyed. Search for those places, That still holds good, Amidst all these adversities, So that we can protect. The time is upon us, Change our nature and conserve, Salvage from what we have lost, In memory of what we were once given. Have the courage to do no harm, Be it living or inanimate, This is my faith, What goes around, comes back around.

Photo Credit: Sandra Mode The year has come to end, As the queen dawns the sky, In all her glory one last time, I write about the time expired. Another year of experience, Another step in a long career, Growing alongside the young and old, On this crossroads we are at. Hope I have grown the wiser, Hope I remember the lessons learnt, In the years to come, Hope I make better choices. There was more joy than before, There were disappointments too, There are times I'd remember forever, There are moments I will forget Another year is about to begin, With the promise of better times to come, One last play before spring begins, One last hurrah, the winter is here.

Photo Credit: LUM3N Fight and struggle are everlasting, Walk out of one walk in to another, At every turn and in all circumstance, As real as the air we breathe. The war with peers to succeed, The fight with family because of love, The struggle with nature to survive, The clash of opinions among friends They are bound to cause pain, Happiness otherwise, They are what lets us define, Our place in this glorious time. The recursive right of passage, Passed only by men of valor, Men with integrity in their blood, Who endured adversities with fortitude. Pride in the fight they take up, Respect for each other, In the long drawn war for living, Honour in the way they live and die .

Photo Credit: Chris Ensey Worship Gods carved into stones, With deep reverence stemming from generations, Wishing for health and prosperity, For yourself and your next of kin. Shower gifts and offerings in plenty, Hoping for a blessings, a better future, In return for our unsullied adoration, Pray stone Gods save our tomorrow. Do they truly? Or is it a facade of our "self", A "self" that we are too estranged to see, A "self" lost in the pages of our beliefs. Aching for validation in rocks, Why don't we chisel inward through the veils of our glorified illusion, Seek within, and reverberate with every speck for all the faith we yearn, And in return find the self that was once born pure. But if you must, pray to the sun that shines every morning, Pray to the winds that bring rain, Pray to the earth that lay beneath, Pray to your health that suffers your carnage everyday.

Photo Credit: Aaron Paul I am surrounded by people, Who are glued to display screens, Spending a major chunk of the day, Looking at Excel sheets. Weekdays spent answering another, Who does the same all the year, In the rat race to earn daily wage, I ask, is this where I belong ? Surrounded by family otherwise Time goes by quickly in conversations, Yet at the end of the day, I ask the same, do I belong ? High up on the mountains, I tire my physical and mental, Sharpening the brain and brawn, Yet I ask, is this where I should be ? In the middle of all this chaotic noise, One noise we fondly call music, Enters my brain and goes straight to the heart, I don't hear that nagging question anymore. With every beat my heart skips one, I can feel myself downing in the sea of music, Though surrounded by strangers, I feel weirdly comfortable, a surreal connection. There are folks singing their hearts out, And there are fan...

Photo Credit: Barby Dalbosco In the cloudy haze of the evening, I see nature in its finest form, Molding itself one day at a time, A hidden sculpture, seldom seen Away from the ticking city life, I ask myself, would I be happy, Living in the hills, Among the clouds, With trees around, a simpler lifestyle I realise, though I enjoy the break, I yearn for the high pace, One filled with more than one needs, Dive into situations with just confidence Hungry to wage verbal wars, To quench my thirst of knowledge, To understand different opinions, Or simply to know my girth Thrust forward with everything I have, Against everything this world has to offer, Explore nomadically in varied avenues, To find my name in this rage we call world.

Photo by Tim Marshall When one lives only by the rules he makes there is bound to be friction. Do it long enough it becomes your character. Might not always provide the expected results but you can find solace in knowing these were actions based on your decisions and no one has any say in it except you. A fine man today, Not living in castles, But a humble abode, Made of blood and sweat. Made from choices, That govern an average Indian, Of one that lived in the moment, Than the promised tomorrow. He is not famous, Nor is he a leader of men, Not a hero nor a champion, Just an ordinary man. He isn't a dot on the globe, the world revolves around him. Not the earth filled by many, But just the people he is familiar. Maybe a closed small world, But he is happy living, Friends and family to share with, Satisfied with what he achieves. These are the the words of the righteous, To live truly by what he believes, Unperturbed by...

It is an ode to my father, a man who forgo the merriment of teenage and youth to bring happiness to a family. A man very different from myself, who does not know the meaning of the word relax. To date, he runs in search of work, work is worship. In a world where we struggle to find the right job, he picked one from his limited choices and committed himself to it unlike the current generation that sifts through jobs to find the best fit. I was in school when he finished his graduation. As a live example he redefined the age to study. I realize fathers are the born role models but in my case, I say it with pride, I can see no better. 18 and in search of work, Carry a weight larger than life, The youngest child, the only son, In search of stability among the rifts. Love and respect for all,  He forges an iron will, Walking the path less traveled, With tenacity in his words. Not the dreams of a teenager, One that of the man of the house, Stepping into shoe...

Photo by chuttersnap Monotonous is about understanding, while I have experienced everything around there is always more to give for the one who searches. The rarity that I search for, sometimes lies in the fact that everything else is repetitive. Leaves falling on a cloudy night, A calm breeze on a summer day, Humming birds on a Sunday morning, The early moon rising on winter evening, Beautiful the first time, Mundane on the seventh, Melodious in the morning, Annoying on a summer noon. Beautiful lies in rarity, On the off chance, I can't see it tomorrow, Beautiful is the chance, It might never happen again. Beautiful is the journey, In search of inspiring moments, Beauty lies in the perception, Of such instances in time. Monotonous when they are predictable, Boring when I know what shall happen, But there also lies beauty in knowing, I live amongst it, day in and day out.

Photo by David deLeon Today I am listening to 'both sides now - Joni Mitchell' while having a conversation with a friend. Some times memories are wonderful. Some are ever lasting. I have known it for a while but I never thought of giving it a name. Something that survives as long as I am alive, no matter how long ago. Our life spans over decades, Our memories range in millions. Some are happy some in sorrow, Most fade as we move on. And then there are some, They touch you every time, The memory born true, With feelings you'd always remember I know them today, As one that forge character, As one that can take you back, Connect my today with yesterday They are the ones that shape my dreams, They are the ones that push me everyday, They are the ones that helps me decide, Where I wish to be in the glorious future Born through the true test of time, Etched in the core of your mind, A memory entwined with passion, Abs...

All days are not the same. Some go by quicker than the other. The motivation to work is lesser in general .  Me and all my friends, Stuck in the rat race unhappy, But we work none the less, Dreaming of the promise of tomorrow. Dream of a musical tomorrow, One filled with songs and poetry, Free of expectations and dependence, Eagerly anticipating the future. This is how we live, Going through our mundane life, Fantasizing a parallel universe where, Our childish dreams are a reality. Though all don't come true, A fraction of fantasy happen, We find happiness knowing, Here we are, living a reverie. May be, bliss lies in the mix, May be, this is what we dreamt off, Persevering through all the insignificance, To live the moments of substance.

There is a goal at heart, Always strive to achieve. Try and try again, To fulfill its ambitions. Fall again and again, Morals down in the dump. Trying to bounce back, With earnest effort to push through. All odds seems to oppose, No door looks open. Yet knocking, one after the other, With hope, one will eventually. The heart is focused while the mind wavers, The will is strong while health holds steady, One lesson at a time in an ocean of chapters, Looking for success in a seemingly endless failure. The doors open up, The light at the end of the tunnel in sight, The promised success approaches, Victorious with flying colours, a warrior hero.

Vicious and cunning, I roam, Leaping from one world to another, Untamed and growing more powerful, Darker than black, ruling with anger You have shackled me to a forgotten past,  In the abandoned corner of your soul, I grow with every angry moment, I see my freedom coming closer. Bottle me up as best you can, Lock me up tight and throw away the key, In the depths of the Pandora's box i lie asleep, Waiting for Anger to wake me. You know what I can do, All you need to do is embrace me, Let me vent on your world, Let me show them my shades of grey. I rein the darkness in your mind, I am as much you as you are me, We are one yet do not wish to accept, Says the demon in my head.

The night will be young, Stars not yet in, People will be sober, Fun, yet to begin One shot of rum, It will be bitter and contrite, Two, three and four, We will be merry, ready to fight Why stop when the night is young, Why stop when there is rum, Isn't it better to drink your fill, Isn't it better to ride the night till the morning begins 9pm is too early a time, At 9pm, we are neither drunk nor high, Why sleep while sober and tranquil, When we can Merry, with conversation and rum

A fraction of time in my life, Moments I live for again and again, Etched in the canvas of my mind, Divine instants of simple Indian nature. I know not what makes them, I know not where to find them, I feel them when I see them, Flowing with the wind like the blood in my veins Proud to have lived and breathed here, They are the silent wonders of my country, An anti climatic creation of man and nature, Moments I die to live for Nothing out of the ordinary, Just the best that nature can offer, Comes with no parade nor notice, Yet there is nothing ordinary about them. What do I search when I know not what to search for, I hold on to this beautiful country of mine, Lying in wait patiently,  for those moments of exuberance, Moments I happily die to live for.

A journey in itself, Transcending distance and time, One measured by the quality of being, That has outgrown ones self. Like the age that never goes back, Moving forward aimlessly. Absorbing everything I come across, Hungry to learn more and more. To become what I want to be,  From what I need to be, Throwing out the mundane necessities, Adorning the mantle of a wanderer, Treading the face of the earth. To be the one that goes unnoticed, Until it becomes so different, So unimaginable a difference, In the mirror on the wall, I hardly recognize I wish to be the change, Not the drastic change over night, But the subtle change, That increments over time, Taking small steps day by day, Going from who I am, To what I become.

We paddle across time, Each stroke adding to our age Time waits for none, Yet we don't realise. Every memory forged in time, Never to come back. Every friend we meet, Time has amnesia, he remembers none. Tick tock tick tock, There goes our life. Tick tock tick tock, Time is a nomad, he walks on. People drift apart, Forgetting those lovely moments, Running farther and farther from each other, Time is a runner, he waits for none. Where did those emotions go, All are forgotten, What happened to our relationships, Time is stone cold, he is always alone. Memories are always created, She remembers all. the good, the bad and the ones we wish to forget, Memory is a time traveller, a doorway to our past.