Adobe, for now and forever

Sitting by the shore

On the edged jetties

Trailing through the fingers

Those cusps of clouds

With eyes shut, paused thoughts

Breathing all of nature in me.

Gathering the voices of wings,

Savoring the music of the lonely wind

Here I sit, not to go

But to make this call my rescue abode.




Let not your creation be the thoughts you keep running from.

Rappelling down to the vortex of thoughts

I could hear my voices echo

Some teeming with urgency

While some, lying in angst

At the corner of the damp pillow.

I wished to swipe them out

But alas! “Your creation”, they exclaimed

My brazen thoughts and those voices

Work but in tandem

And I’m the only one to be blamed.



Often circumstantially we hear the word soul and most of us can rarely associate with it. The distraction by surrounding chaos and meddling humdrum affairs, disunite us and plunge us further and further into the whirl of illusion where we are transfixed and unstable; the instability, with time, becomes soothing and it transcends us towards the pit of our trivial existence. The existence which is nothing but vagaries of life bundled with real collision by mammoth conscious push into an unprecedented territory.

Divulging into reality from skies of dream

Look around young man,

This place is not how you thought it would be.

Don’t lose hope and lose the sight

Good things will happen, stay upright!