Ending it with a smile!

Don't raise that hand, keep it wrapped in your pocket,

A wave of a hand, doesn't make anything easier.

So keep that goodbye for someone who takes them, 

Leave as you wish, But don't wave that hand here. 

Perhaps the beginning was never meant to be, 

And so let it be, The end is now here.. 

That which ends, never really existed, 

An end is all that it deserved, why care?

Forget the romanticism this world likes to live in, 

Where Endings are always happy, And so are you..

Rewind your life , and see for yourself, 

If these stories and poems are actually true? 

Happy endings are disguised beginnings, 

Ends that you enforce to make a new start;

Each story that ends or begins, has two characters,  

One playing his game, The other meagrely his part.

We've lived in this illusion for a while now, 

But the myth is now shattered, It's time is done.

You don't have to pretend , That you cared, 

Nor make it bearable , by saying it was fun;

This is a failed world, Each broken piece testifies, 

An end is an end, There never was a happy one.

Your Hands in Mine.

"What would it be like, if one fine morning you wake up,
To live a dream that you used to see while asleep?
We have always talked about reality being so mean,
So harsh yet so awaited, So obvious yet so deep!
But Dreams shall be meagre desires unfulfilled,
Until they get real, and you know how does it actually feel!
Close you eyes, and dream about that fine morning,
When a dream is broken, Just to let you experience it in real! "

~ ~ Aslam Baba

Faithfully yours.

 

A million things I want to say,

But When I do not find a way ,

I pen down it all on a blank piece of paper,

And it happens to take the form of a letter;

I don’t know whom to send it to,

I feel giddy, Having no clue what to do..

I read it aloud to myself then,

Fold it back, and place it under the pen;

I look at the blank envelope on the bed,

Its ugly, It was supposed to be addressed!

i reach for the letter and open it again,

We don't give up, right? We are men;

I Write down something about the pain ,

Of the envelope not bearing a name;

I smile to myself when I realise,

The envelope still lies blank,  in front of my eyes;

But I decide to finish what I started,

It deserves an end, an effort that was whole-hearted.

I don't write anything more,

Am blank as the envelope, to the core;

But something inside heavily pours,

As I sign it off - Faithfully Yours!

Sabse peeche hum khadey !

[ DISCLAIMER- This article is a work of fiction and bears no resemblance to any person- living or dead.. :) ]

Life's been a race for us all, from the moment we opened our eyes.
And we've been racing, aimlessly, leaving behind all hues and cries..
Few amongst us are born racers, I was lucky I was one..
But long before I could finish the race, My sprint was done..
I had been racing really fast, to the joy of some, envy of the rest..
Until one day, I felt, I had done it all, I was the best!
What followed was my decision to retire from the field,
Yes, I had thought well over it, the decision was sealed..

What an experience it was, Life sans the race part,
Peaceful, jovial, and serene, if not street smart..
For I dumped the racers, and settled down with people who seemed more humane,
I termed them as friends, this whole friendship thing was driving me insane,
For I had spent all my life chasing one goal after another,
Crushing anyone who came in my way, without thinking any further..

But now, The chasing boy , had grown into a retired man,
And the desire to excel , gave way to a broader game plan..
I set out to meet people, watch them emote, hear them speak,
To see if Life was all about the race, or something out of the league?
That was where life actually started for me, As I kept growing wiser,
And there was no question left, for which I didn't have an answer. .
The only truth worth mentioning that I uncovered was that,
Life is only a race, and all humans meagre racers, nothing beyond that..

I made up my mind to resume the race from where I had left it,
Heh.. But life gives no second chance to mice, and men who quit..
Alas.. I had no other choice but to sink into my arm-chair..
Enjoy whatever was left for me , in life, Even if i didn't find it fair..
I termed this part of my life, as joblessness.. And learned to live with it..
Showed the middle finger to the Creator, who thought I was finished, I had quit..
I have had my own fair share of reasons, to enjoy this life the way I wanted to,
They came scattered in phases, and One of them , my friend, was you!

Someday, If you happen to take a break from the race you've been running,
and you need to share your success-tales with, some known harmless being..
You might not find him around, Just cut through the crowd..
An old Silk Route song shall guide you through, playing out loud..
Persuading you to chuck out the crowd, and leave aside the race for a day ,
If you find yourself lost, You'll find your way, when you hear a voice say,
" Duniya ki iss bheed mein , Sabse peeche hum khadey"..