Time

 Time

How differently we feel it at various stages.

It feels limitless when young.

Like potential, fired by adrenaline.

Somehow the world feels small

So small, you dream of conquering it.

As responsibilities catch up,

Societal goals weigh on our conscious.

The horizons seem narrower

The old everyday excitement has slowly died.

Time is chipped away by the little things,

Meals, laundry, housekeeping, 

Call ins, general upkeep of appearances.

In the midst of it all, suddenly you remember your passion.

Slowly glowing in the background.

Come, kindle this fire once more, it pleads.

Promising to bring back the old glow.

Newly introduced, awkwardly familiar.

You must forgive yourself for not being the same as before.

Such have you change as life went by,

Your approaches are different,

The lenses, not the same.

Time is now a many headed thing.

Grief

To love and to lose
Through life & in death
Memories bear the brunt
Of life as it was once.
The Future, unthinkable,
The Past, a battered anchor.
A million feelings
Unleashed, smarting
The hollow frames inside.
Together or alone
In memoriam, strength follows.
It mayn't be easy or sure,
But a path ahead will be forged.

"With great power, comes​ great responsibility"

No truer words have been spoken.
A mom's role plays token.
Given a set to work with,
A boy and a girl, to reckon.
Self-awareness, multi-specialist
Gender bias, empowerment...
A world sifting through changes,
Findings roots and modifying.
Will I guide them well enough
To hold their conscious
When times get rough?
In my absence, will the tenets endure?
The future I dreamt of is not theirs.
Curating for a better tomorrow.
Not getaways or planes,
But fields and furrows.
The shirt off our backs,
And perhaps 2 more.
Laughter, good company
And life that gives more.
Hold on to each other,
Life put you together.
Karma and souls have their ways.
Hold you close and pray for
Capacity to know right from wrong
And strength to follow the right path.

The Adventure of a Lifetime!

We’ve set out on an adventure,

One that will last for life!

Many highs shall we see

And kiss some lows good bye.

Picture perfect memories,

Made every possible day,

Of smiles and riots alike,

To look back on with pride.

Motor skills, recognition…

Just the tip of the iceberg!

Motor mouth and rejection,

Small setbacks of the years to come.

Trip will be planned and cancelled,

Lessons to be learned and unlearned,

A kaleidoscope of events ensue,

In a time frame that barely copes.

We’ve set out seeking the unknown…

No two lives are alike!

Similar in many ways,

Not every childhood’s the same.

Family and Friends

Slowly it grows on me,

An ominous heart-break,

Threatening to perish

All that won’t change.

Gone are the days of surety,

Knowing who abides and waits

Politics and misunderstanding,

An unbridgeable abyss create.

Question not how,

But when, whom and why?

Egos, systems, indulgence,

Half-knowledge and sundries.

At times I wish to teleport

Revert to a past unspoilt,

Perhaps lift the clouds of dust,

And this day wouldn’t come to pass.

Such is my world today,

Mere fragments of a whole.

On this I shall build

And yet hope for more.

The devil's workshop!

Hours emptied of emotion,
Devoid of object of affections,
No work ethic to adhere.
A free floating existence
Better appreciated
When somewhat chained.
Not to poles or walls
But to rules, yes, just rules.
A few to broken
And some to amend.
Order sets me free,
A head filled with processes,
A mind juggling tasks,
Is my idea of heaven.
A little routine to exploit,
A race against yourself!
Creating time when you
Supposed you couldn't allow it!
Enriching thoughts
Set off brainwaves
Sparking ideas by the grand.
Envisage an hour off
From this over-worked scene
Now that would be bliss!
Something worthy to share.

Expectant circles

How do I tell of that time
When expectations weren't prime?
We tumbled into the hay (that)
They were making in the sunshine

Sweet rolling fun, undeterred
Looking,  yet not accepting,
That a future may lie ahead,
Ahead of this free-rolling mess.

Hay is now thresh,
Gripping and forgotten,
Rustling quietly beneath
Traveling,  growing feet.

Out with old,  in with new,
A fresh brew flows through,
Flooding halls and doorways,
Reuniting thresh with hay.