Rhythmic Harmony

NOCTURNE

The sound of silence was on its peak

The night was on fire, & the moon was weak

Air blew with a soft touch, but hard and slow

The sky was dark but with a grayish glow,

The king of night was dim, pale white,

His treasure was lost & faded behind,

Those immense warriors of rain have again, won the fight

The trees were sad, & their leaves were down,

Their shining pearl was ready to touch the clumsy ground,

For a moment, everything took rest

The sky lost all what he had,

Those pebbles and pearls

Were the sign of a holy zest

Because the huge hearted, the almighty, the king,

Was throwing pebbles on the wall,

And with that came those showers and rains,

The sound of silence, was just lost in wane.

A Ballad bit broad

As the title depicts, one can gain, achieve, pull a lot from the literature below. It is basically a combination of some clacky words striking a short, sort of story about how life changes. The way we change our priorities being a baby, a young man to the grey's of life.

I have tried to frame a short poetry on various complications, disputes, relationships and everything one can link to this poetry, by using three ages of human life,

* The Immatures - In this phase like a baby we are heedless and insensitive to everything. Things go around, the way they are supposed to and it never matter us.

* The Matures and self dependents - At this stage we are mature and sensible enough to deal with things going around. we acquire the power to blame either ourselves or others for the sins they commit and become the emperor of our own destinies. This is the stage where we decide where 
"A THING" whether its a complication a problem actually a human being or a relationship will lead towards.


* The Oldies - The final stage of our journey which is almost similar to the one from where we started. we are sensible enough to understand but insensitive to show that we are aware of everything around but weak enough to change, have ended writing our destinies and now waiting for the destiny to end us.

Har Daur Ko Jeeta

Ek meethi muskan ka pyala,

Ankhiyon ki chamak to aisi hai,

Jaise ho koi khel nirala,

karmon ka na moh hai mana,

Na paap punya ka bhed hai jana,

Jis or b apne mann ko modda,

Uss disha k har deepak ko thama,

Har bandhan har rishte ko todda,

Na jaane kakse kabtak khudse

 khudki ye ladai hai,

Aur issi tarah kuch yun kisine

ek ruansi bhare chehre ko,

nindiya ki chaaddar uddayi hai

Par khwabon k sahare na jeewan hai chalta,

Dheeme dheeme samay ki dhara k sang behta,

har din har roz ye suraj dhalta

Paaon mein apne zor hai aya,

Vo Din dhala to kya,

Ek nayi bhor hai laya,

Chalte chalte din hai beete,

Aagya ek daur naya,

Ab uss Karmon k moh ko apna maan lia hai,

Kya Sikhayga koi hume ye duniya ki reet,

Humne apne pairon pe chalna jo jaan lia hai,

Samay ka phiya badda vo aage,

Sath uske hum bhi bhagge,

Paap punya ka lekha jokha

Sath lekar soye aur ath lekar jaage.

Thakk k choor na jane kyun,

Ab chalne ki icha na hoti,

Chahte to hai aage baddne,

Par beh-beh jaate ankhon k moti,

Karm jo karna tha,

Ho gye vo poore,

Ab unka moh hai tyag diya,

lekhe jokhon ki baat purani,

Reh gye hai ab vo adhoore,

Ankhen moond lene ka rehta hai mann,

Na shor ho, na ho koi aasha,

karna chahte jab hum annt ka naman.

Sach keh gya vo kavi purana

Baat ye uski gaanth lagana,

Annt tera shuruwat meri hai,

hun dono hai jeewan sathi,

Phir kyun sabki ankhen yun bhari hai,

Jab bhujj hi gayi mere dil ki baati.

Burning cliffs

"Words left unsaid goes unheard"

 At times, We have a lot to say, a lot to explain, but words, they betray you. When a random selection of words becomes your introduction, and all what you speak was just an irony for your thoughts. When Sarcasm hides the actual meaning of your letters, and all what you mean was all what you actually said.

"Dude, you are breaking the rules"

Sometimes, somethings seems so unnecessary to even pay a heed upon, You rise you fall down, you laugh to yourself and get back up again. You hold every emotion, every sort of complications and falling within yourself. And soon, a time comes when all sort of those miscarriages get more than you can bear, And when you loose all sort of patience you had and that's the time when you rise again.

He's volcano

Rising and falling he went too high,

Unknown and unaware of the untold stories,

Smiling too hard he forgot to cry,

Laughing and chanting he had no worries,

( No worries...Haha)

So smooth and calm,

Despite of a bundle of milestones,

His life was dusk and his eyes were dawn,

His head too high,

To the horizon it rose,

Staring at him the night felt rough,

She wanted to, but couldn't escape

His looks were tough.

Like a glimpse of divine in the darkest hour,

He seemed too high like a drowning ship,

Life from his arms was slipping away,

He went deep down like a mind hunting freak,

He found those devils, those beasts he beard,

Deep down in his throat his own words travelled,

Boiling and bubbling was a big bright heart,

It had a lot, a lot to give,

But was bounded to keep his tongue short,

A box of lies with a bundle of truths,

Those letters with love and a pact beneath,

To never open up his heart, the way he feels,

He had nothing much to be proud of,

But those letters of liberty and a pact of chivalry.

A day dim bright was not too good,

He was getting insane,

No one knew the reason behind,

May be it was his heart, which couldn't reach up-to his mind,

The day turned dark, a pact was broken,
Silence to sympathy, loyalty to liberty,
He was turned upside down,
(He erupted)
And threw thing far, far where no one can see,
As soon as the day turned to night,
he was dispersed, and went out of sight

He's a Volcano, and "Volcano Eruption"
That's what he's known for,
But all what no one knew is,
Every time he erupts he fell down to his knees,
And every time he fells, he know he's gonna rise again,
Because,
Rising and falling, he goes too high,
Rising and falling, he lives he die.

Wanna be Happy, Oh yeah!! Lets be buoyant

Being a typical wanna be poet is not that easy as it seems to be, i.e. your entire work, your entire creation revolves around sun, moon, stars, rains and the rest. May be sometimes it becomes quite challenging for readers to go with the flow or to carry the patience till the end. Well! my most of the poetry stuffs is stocked of such thing. So, the one right below is not something from different race but something which had all of it. Because all what I've cultured from my life till now is that,
"Elegance of nature of worth admiring. "

So, here it is. a poetry which will allow you to flow along with it, which can make you feel that may be its misty, everywhere there's intense darkness lets pick a candle up. may you can't get everything the way you need them to be, but lets just accept what all we have, lets just accept the fact we'll have them someday better than the way they are today,and lets "Hope" that someday or the other things will fall into the places they are supposed to be.

Kuch Yuhin Seekh Liya

Kuch yun alvida keh gya humse ye sawan,

Ki uss dheemi khushbu ka intezaar mann mein hi reh gaya,

Kuch yun doob gaya ye suraj ki asmaan ko laali,

Aur ek sehmi si saanjh de gya,

Sawan ki raaton ka maza kuch aur hi hota,

Par iss bairi umar ka takaza ho pata,

Uske pehle hi iss sawan ka jhonka humari saari jawani le gaya,

Yun to raat ki tarah iss raat bhi,

Humare diye tale hi andhera hai,

Par iss akhri deepak k tale hi to humara basera hai,

Ankhon mein ummedon k taare jagmate reh jaate hai,

Aur hum har roz ki tarah yuhin muskurate hue so jate hai,

Humare to sapno ka rannk bhi apni hi ek duniya ka raja hai,

Unn sitaron se timtimati raat mein, 

Har roz ek nayi kahani sunata hai,

Raub to inka itna hai jaise hum iske sewak aur yehi humare khwaja hain.

A iss raat ki farmaish pe sawera kuch yun hojata,

Ki uss taron ki duniya ko ankhen khol k bhi ye mann bhool na pata,

Iss mann ki awaaz ko chilla-chilla kar ye baddbola har roz kehta,

Ek Ullas ki leher har pal zehen mein dodd kar dil ko choo jati,

Kuch yun ek anjaan ummang na jaane har pal hassti, gaati, khilkhilati,

ki usko dekh hum jhoom se uthte,

Kuch yun sapno ki duniya ko jeena ek junoon bann jata,

Ki humara har andaaz, har ikraar, uss ankahi khwaish ki gawahi dene lagta.

Par taaronka to kaam hi hai timtimana,

Kabhi jagmagana kuch yun,

Kuch yun ki kuch dikh hi na paye,

Kbhi kuch yun kho jana ki koi unhe dhundh bhi na paaye,

Aur ek din yuhin timtimate, jagmagate, har tara, ye har sapna toot jata hai,

Uss jhilmilati duniya ki khwahish adhoori reh jati,

Uss ummeed ki aakhri kiran iss sanjh k sath hi doob jati

Na jane kyun phir  baar-baar k tees ki tarah,

Vo dard uthne ki koshish karta,

Par yahin humari saari chaturayi iss dil ko dhool dikhati,

Jab har sitare ne humse apna muu modd lia,

Shayad tbhi humne iss subah k sulagte sartaaj se apna mann jodd liya,

Halaki yun sulgane ka dard unn gumnaam sitaron ki yadon se kam na tha,

Par kuch yun ek chalak mahashay humko keh gye ki,

Jinn sitaron ki tim tim tmhare naino ko jagmagati hai,

Ab unki vahi roshni tmhe har roz jagati hai,

Aur Phir kya,

Koi khud ko manana humse seekhe,

Jalte hue bhi jagmagana koi humse seekhe,

Ummeed to ye bhi nahi ki kal ka din hoga,

Par phir bhi Naye podhe lagana koi humse seekhe.

A Descant of Calmness

At times life gets so messed and so muffled that you find yourself in disgust, at times you curse yourself for being wherever you are and whatever  you are doing. At that moment all you need to do is, take a deep breath and feel the silence. Soon, you'll find that a person within you who wants to laugh, dance, who says, "Dude, common you can't quit, you need to fight we'll face everything together." When life bungles itself between truth and happiness, dreams and reality, relations and academics, love and trust, the only way to choose the write one is to self introspect oneself and search for what do you want, what do you need at that instant of time and the person deep inside you will help you get through it.

The composition below is nothing but a short and a bit typical experience of  facing that inner voice which was always right but all what he lacked was the courage to accept the reality. So, like an elementary human being he kept those dreams in fact those fantasies which never existed, and to convince himself he cursed everything he had and happened around for not allowing him to get what he wanted. His desperation took him too far and when everything he did screwed him up he was all alone and silence was ruling him over he found that, all what he had is a quartet of tears in his eyes and that voice which was always screaming from behind but he never paid a heed upon it, he felt the aura of that voice that inner soul, the soul he was, the soul he had within himself and that soul which was always RIGHT.

A Talk of Peace

Standing on the verge, hopes in mind

Searching a reason for being here,

For what he tried, and this what he had,

Everywhere its drab, and a dark harsh glare

A broken dream & a Person too lost,

In the midst of his ambitions,

he never accepted the gloss

With his dreams on fire,

he never looked down,

but, when came back to reality ,

he found himself in wane,

He was good for nothing,

he felt down and ashamed,

He felt he has got nothing but bundles of broken dreams,

but there was no one to console that's what it seems,

over an age he was chasing something that never existed

in the glimpse of of past his memory rested,

a heartbreaking silence took everything over,

his soul and his mind came a bit closer,

silence of words got lost somewhere

a dim, sweet and a dominant voice made him aware,

he learned, she taught

he slept, she slapped

he tried, she provoked,

he agitated, she motivated

and soon started an allocutions,

with harmony and conciliation,

An hour or so when his tears, dried on his face,

his eyes enlightened with an almighty grace

 he learned to live,

to thank to be thankful,

to be forgiven to forgive,

to live with traits,

and to love with no regrets,

To love bad times for what they gave,

To admire moments for the fact they came,

He felt too light, he found someone

his eyes got bright, he had it all

He got new thoughts to live and let,

his aura enhanced with a divine glow

his ambiance smoothened in a flow,

That voice inside can be your heart, your conscience or your soul

but mind it, at every point of time it will make you whole,

and whatever the situation can turn to

And i'm  not faking, just take my words

A talk of peace can make your world.

Let's Envision the certainities

Some things are so obvious, so certain that we never bother to even look at them, at every stage of life, every moment we live we have those things, we see those things, we feel them, we just love to be a part of them, but so heedless to actually get them, understand them. Well!! It’s getting quite filthy, so let’s get that straight.
We meet a no. of people literally “A LOT of” in our massively miniature lifetime and among those we can gossip on about all of them, we face bundles of assets & circumstances. At a stage it feels like everything’s just slipping out of our hands, while sometimes we feel like “The king of The world” but all what we recall are “those embarrassing moments and why god’s been so rude to me” thing. We never  see, we never give a glance at what’s actually real, something that’s True, we just love live in an abstract and hypothetical world of ours, where we “CREATE” people,  “CREATE” circumstances and then we try to live them, transform them into real world, and that is where we are actually uncertain about reality, we aren’t living but pretending to be a Happy Go lucky guy who never gives a damn and blah blah blah. Actually, we’re cooking things up, and let me tell you all of that cooked up stuff is always made in a chamber of pessimism.
What I feel is everything we see, we feel, is certain, up to a certain instant and up to a certain deadline. In this world of realities lies a world of philosophies, a world where we think, we imagine things, but we don’t imagine realities, where we don’t imagine certainties, But that’s what I'm gonna do, I'm gonna envision Certainties
It is a fact that out of every 10 people about 9 feels that they are having a very special and unique characteristic of “Nit picking”. They feel good, criticising people, finding errors in them, in their attitude, their features, even the way they walk, talk, eat, sit, & I guess if they’ll get the opportunity they can even tell you how to pee in a proper way too. Such people feel that what, they do is something very correct and instead of being critic they call themselves “Mr. Perfectionists”. Now among such people we've got two categories.
Staring,” Shit on you face” type, these type of people get the shit straight to your face. Like, it’s a normal day, everything’s just going good and suddenly a person comes to you and he’s like a 6 feet tall guy staring right into your eyes,
“hey!! Dude, you've got these new shoes.”
“Yup, 450 bucks”
“Disgraceful!, my friend’s got them for 250  you’re twitted buddy”
And I’m like, why is it so, that every time I deal a thing  your friend gets the same shit and it isn't enough, every time he buys a thing, all what he does is, “Call you to boast about what he bought”. OK! Let us consider he's either crazy for you or he's just a big admirer of your taste and marketing skills, but how it that's "None of my business". such conversations basically ends with a huge "Whatever", or "hmm".
Now, these kind of shitters are not that bad, because the best part of their shitting phenomenon is, it is a open and voluntary process. "Passengers are Only responsible for their belongings". These shitters have got that If you shit on my face I will shit back attitude and they call it "Instant feedback". Still, such shitters are much better than our second type of shitters.
Now, the second are most interesting type, basically found as women, but now-a-days this type is spreading rapidly among men. And these are “Lets shit together” type, they are kind of very dangerous people & they just "love shitting", they haven’t got that moxie, that courage, to speak up on your face, in front of you, they can become your dearest envies, admirers, and even they can call themselves your best friends, but as I told you they just LOVE shitting. Now people even call them backstabbers but they aren’t,

basically such people can just” shit”. And since they can’t do it on your face they’ll do this either with another personality or their favourite “Group shitting”. Now simply shitting with another person is so common for them but all what they enjoy is group shitting. It’s like, on a normal day, a bunch of friends hanging out,
“Bro, I need to tell you something.”
As you know these are typical cowards and can’t get the shit straight they always mold the asses.
“What’s up bro”
Now the one who’s the closest  to our leading shitter, always gets concerned and becomes the first to ask what the matter is.
“Let it be. I can’t”
Now our leading shitter plays smart, to fetch the attention of every nigga towards him. And in a moment everybody present there is looking at his face to get the shit out of him, and after a serious session of “Yes's” and “no’s” our leading shitter presents the shit in the best possible way to all the niggas.
“You know what, that guy so and so, he was trying to ablaze me against you and blah blah blah.
So, being the leading shitter, he shits turning and twisting but soon he convince everybody present over their to shit along & Soon, all of them start shit a shitting ceremony, and try to criticise about every single moment they had with that a guy who's so worthy that an entire session of hangout became not more than a public lavatory and at the end we have "A lot of shit".
So, all what I meant was life’s full of such shitters, they criticise you on every single step you take, all what you need to do is,
“Make sure you aren’t one of them.”
Because it’s all about how you look at thing, how you envision them, whether what you feel is closely related to reality or not, coz’ at the end of the day it’s all about how you Envision the Certainties.