I choose the subjects on my own
may it resembles others
may it makes the writers frown
my writings have so many mothers
...
A she wolf is waiting for the return of her dearest
who has gone for food with his pack.
But detached somehow in the very deep forest
and the friends also lost his track.
...
Oh! you sweetheart, you beauty with brain,
why did you take me in your arm you lovely dove?
Coz it seriously made me alien
growing a sixth sense in me that is 'love'.
...
The sounds of playful noise, the sounds of laughter & cheer.
The sound of oscillating bell bracnhing its way to rooms.
The sound of thousands footsteps converging into choir.
...
Conglomeration of folks, showers of bliss
mound of gifts pour,
where you are the cynosure.
...
Why are there still some places on earth
where the birth of girl is mourned?
...