Heroes

A Hero is still a human for life,
Even if others won’t think of it;
Fighting, Saving is what they see,
Not the person who buys groceries.

I asked him what do you do,
When you aren’t making villains scream;
And he talked about watching tv,
Or spending time with his family.

I asked her who flies and keeps a watch,
What do you fear the most as a Hero;
And her reply was just so repulsive,
That tolerant population might go down to Zero.

I asked another about how do you live,
And why do you go around saving others;
He replied that because he can afford it,
Some have to carry the burden on their shoulders.

I asked them – the ones standing at the stage,
If in future, will Heroes still be needed to save us?
And before I could even finish they asked,
The soldiers, doctors and others, aren’t they amongst us?

Born to make mistakes.

Born to make mistakes,
Each of us live our life;
Going through the emotions of the world,
We desire for a wishful sight.

The prisoner kept in the dark place,
Now yearned for the light again;
The one mistake he had made,
Was already covered with a lonely pain.

He looked out of the cell and above,
His eyes, in all directions, shone;
Slowly rusting with the sea breeze,
Was it his heart or the iron dome.

The day he wished for finally arrived,
It was no hero or a villain for rescue;
But just the usual silent breeze,
That rusted the iron, playing its part due.

The prisoner walked out slowly,
Preparing himself for what was to come;
Lifting the frail palm above his forehead,
He gasped at the sight of none.

Where was this place without a name,
He gasped even more realizing the stench;
His eyes looked around searching for life,
And the tears rolled down, Oh they still exist!

He wondered what was better or worse,
Trying to understand the situation;
Was the hope inside the prison calming,
Or the truth viewed by the eyes – none.

He smiled at the mistake that he had made,
For which he was sentenced to prison;
Am I the only survivor now and here,
Or should I too, be gone forever.

Turning around to the familiar prison,
He looked as if it were the home;
Where their was hope and peace,
Should he go back to that iron dome?

Wish it happens.

I wish it really happens when I start,
That I can find my freedom path;
Tearing away at all the obstacles,
I can choose what I want in my cart.

I wish it really happens in love,
That I find and hold you every night ;
Because that would lighten the day,
And energize me for the next fight.

I wish it really happens in work,
That people love what they do;
As enjoying is the best productivity,
And that progresses a company too.

I wish it really happens all the time,
That we can do things for society;
While earning our share of profit,
We can help each other for free.

I wish it really happens with the new tech,
That we explore much farther than Earth;
For, to expand and grow is humans nature,
And that’s what makes living life worth.

I wish it really happens so we can acquire,
That thing that we have been searching for;
Whether it’s knowledge about the universe,
Or the deep understanding of our soul.

I wish it really happens for sure,
That these aren’t just imaginations;
That we put up with all of it and more,
I wish it really happens across nations.

Excerpt – 1

The saint wondered, turning around to see his city for one last time. He sighed, “Perhaps, time will tell..”

Hare like a Tortoise

Things keep moving forward in life,
And at times you wonder what to do;
Although there are tasks to execute,
You don’t know which to start, no clue.

And you remember a childhood story,
The one with tortoise and the hare;
And you decide to be a hare in all,
With the heart of a tortoise, you dare.

– Siddarth

Happy Independence Day!

73 years of Independence it is,
Oh what a long way we have come;
From nothing but $30 billion gdp,
To a wish for a massive $5 trillion.

Such eventful timeline India has seen,
With its share of highs and lows;
Yet soldiers give it all at the borders;
And only in front of the flag, they bow.

If you consider the current times,
Take a look at what the doctors do;
Sacrificing their sleep and wellbeing,
And giving innocent citizens life anew.

You go out on a Sunday or a holiday,
There are workers completing their tasks;
Cleaning the street, emptying the bins;
And as security watching out, while we rest.

How about the National team players,
Whether it is cricket, soccer or hockey;
They all have training every single day,
And a wish to earn medals for the country.

There are private businesses as well,
Driven by a goal to earn money;
What they do also adds to the gdp,
And pay tax to improve India’s property.

Utilities companies are also in the list,
People keep it working even on days off;
Because that is the lifeline for the citizens,
And the heart that never stops beating.

All of these, and yet so much more,
Some are right in front of your eyes;
While some are hidden in the back,
And are making your life without cries.

We have come a long way, still lots to improve,
Whether in infrastructure or in education;
We need to clean up the mess that is there;
With all voices, let’s make ‘India’ echo again.

– Siddarth

A small note

Understand that every passing day,
I feel a surge in the wish to meet;
Until now who was an amazing person,
I figured, changed into my heart beat.

– Siddarth

About me. And you.

There is this thing about life,
I wanted to share with you.

In the presence of those beautiful eyes,
I can’t stray away from your soul.

Within the shield of your calming vibe,
I feel I can conquer everyone around.

With the presence of your sweet voice,
I feel as if I am cloud 9 bound.

So be mine, because you make me drive,
And fill the world with our sound.

Unconditional.

The night sky makes the stars shine,
And yet the real reason is the sun;
Similarly, joy, sad and pain make life,
But the real reason to survive is one.
You.

– Siddarth

Loving an object.

Isn’t it easier to love an object,
Than to love another person,
Because whatever happens,
The object won’t say a thing,
Nor would it complain for emotions,
And yet, it won’t say what’s in it’s heart,
Or what it went through during the days.

But isn’t it easier to love an object,
One which is much easier to chase,
As it doesn’t walk away from you,
Nor would it do anything to frustrate,
And yet thinking back I go realize,
That it won’t make you smile or cry,
It will be there just like you want it to.

So then why not love the object,
It will remain there forever in time,
Whether you are angry or sad,
Or you feel happiness or joy,
It will always stand their firmly,
Without blinking an eye or dropping a sweat,
Just like the senseless fool it’s supposed to be.

But then how can I love the object,
When I know that it can’t reciprocate,
Knowing full well that it can’t even try,
And help me talk out when I am annoyed,
But how would it know if I do exist,
And how would it even remember me,
After I leave this world but not the moments.

– Siddarth