A road less traveled

I hopped in to the empty bus
I sank onto the window seat

The sleep inducing soothing winds
Was the only respite from heat

Wind came with soft whispers
Which slowly  lulled me to sleep 

I was drifted into a dreamland
Through a dark hypnotizing trip

The smiling moon winked at me
Over silvery strip of coast

He watched  me as he knew my secret
As I spoke in solitude under moonlit lampost

A wonderful smell of burnt sandalwood
From a distant jungle where  flame glowed

A tiny spark over dried and parched leaves
In a blended colour of orange and yellow

I made way to a deserted avenue
And strolled along rainwashed road

Strange forms appeared and disappeared 
What added to spookiness was croak of toads

I yelled with fear by a gentle tap on my back
It almost startled and toppled the Bus Ticket boy

Amused passengers burst in to roar of laughters
While I got down the bus and bid them bye.

Orkut

The sky blue profile with pink ring
with weird English and attitudes  to flaunt

Open for public page was decorated
With one liners in uneven font

Greed of earning score of testimonials 
Cool trustworthy and sexy meter

And those hate communities
Where discussions always get bitter

It revealed sneaky page visitors
Sparkling cliche goodmorning scraps

Cafe overflowed with keyboard warriors
Orkut was a pretty addictive trap

It now looks strange
Sad, quiet and eerie

Sunk into the dark abyss
With its nostalgic glory

Budharaja hill

On every Saturday evening, which assures me that I wouldn't have to dress up for school next day, I pick up a stick, wade through bushes and pass by spooky cemetery for a solo trek to Budharaja hill. I pick a smooth flat stone, pulling it off from the cracked boulder blown off by dynamites on previous night. I carve the name of on a bark of a fleshy stem. I stride with trepidation on hearing hissing noises from nearby bushes. The sound of my breath and cracking dry leave makes the surroundings look eerie. Thanks to quicker strides I reached to the upper most part of the hill sooner. It offered panoramic view of the half of the town. Fatak Overbridge looked like a tiny Hot Wheel track,  Modipada Panitanki resembled a small budding mushroom. I could see green patches of lands where tiny dots were taking quick singles.  I open my right fist. The little stone was still on my palm. I aimed at a distant tree which frightened a flock of piegons and they fled away in one direction.

It absorbed my depression. It dissolved with thin air.

My favourite Prime Minister

Sky opened up with tears of joy

For a wonderful soul, their blue eyed boy

An oratory of divine with long pause

Every decision for a well thought cause

A right man got stuck in a wrong group

While other ended up in soup

He had a  big heart with an open door

Who carried message of peace  to Lahore

Catapulted our country to the league of superpowers

Succumbed after shocks during difficult hours

He left us with an irreparable loss

Yet his speeches will continue to inspire us

A lost visitor of Chillika

I know it is going to be a long flight

Still flapping my wings at a modest height

Fighting back tears, thirst and hunger

As hopelessness might make my journey longer

I still feel caged in this unlimited sky

May be I wanted to bid them last goodbye

Hovered over half of world without clue

Sky and oceans have painted me blue

Let the wind blow and take me away

And battered wings get healed by sunray

I ask myself "is this the end"

Flying alone aimlessly without friends

Their prayers and my hope shall not go in vain

I ll keep on going till I meet them again

Water

I am those flowing tears
Welling out of grief, joy and fear

I am those vast oceans
And Clouds, mist, fog and rains

I am those roaring streams
Who flow to merge with supreme

I never stop but go around obstacles
I am the life, I am the miracle

I palaryze resistance with persistence
I am the reason for your existence

Death of an innocent

I could'nt communicate you across the wall
But that was my last scream brother

My body is now lifeless like a doll
Please convey this to mother

Ears and body couldnot take it more
Those abuses and ugly treasons

I fell silent amidst their abusive roars
And lost my body without reason

I remembered smell of deep forest flowers
My ears reverberated with tribal drum beats

I ll miss that small world of ours
Hard day's work and evening meets

I regret not bidding last good bye
For these so called guardian of laws

I believe these bad times would fly
And end deceit, corruptions and flaws.