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Showing posts from March, 2017

The Best Is Yet To Come

In the middle of the endless road From where I was, to where I am But still there is a long way to go Has the best been left behind Or is it yet to come
The constant urge to find something better Makes me move, but I stop to look back It was the same thought some time ago Will it be like this even after some time? A lot has changed, a lot still the same
A lot of questions plague the mind While I stand on the slippery sand of time Hoping to find the answers on my way The crowd on the road is thinning Some resting, some on their way back
As I walk on, the clutter seems to fade away I set out on a journey, not a destination The lessons from the past, welcome the future The best is yet to come, I keep moving The best is yet to come, I will keep moving

Down The Memory Lane

The music goes on; the car comes to a halt Positions change, destination the same The cans pop once again And they go down the memory lane
Still searching for the “elusive” lighter Slangs flow left and right He lights up one with the already lighted A smile on that face, an event in the head
Yes, some things have are not the same The car can now accommodate easily The discussion has changed Now to please let me pay
But like always, that what matters much more A repartee, a nickname a signature handshake A story, a suggestion, an advice And an emotion through the eye
A lot of time has quickly passed by Things have turned out in their own way But the bond that still unites their hearts And they go down the memory lane

Your Road, My Destination

A long awaited cry Breaks the silence It brings a smile on faces And a flutter in the hearts
Questions pop: name, gender Its eyes are closed Not knowing what the answers mean Present deciding the future course
Each and every moment noted While it was just having fun The other “great minds” draw conclusions Eyes are now half open, trying to make sense
By the time the eyes open completely Time has flown, it is “now” a he He has been stamped, decided for Now he has to live up to it
The struggle is his own The destination is not Being the “guy” he is He is still able to excel
The body sits through classes The mind, about rhyming words Hands move to take notes Fingers chart a different course
College, marks, degrees and jobs Everything going as per plan Now even with eyes full open He has lost track
But then, one day In a gap between interviews The pad and the pen invite him And he scribbles once again