Mohit Sharma, 26 grudnia 2011
'And the day came silently
of your final goodbye
and I am still searching for your presence
with those tears dry.
where have you gone,
it's impossible to drive an estimation,
but I can be assured, it's 'Heaven'
that's your final destination.
bowing down empty handed
with a bag of mixed emotions,
wondering is it life or death?
which has gained here, the domination.
colossal was the pains,
and life's hard till your last breath,
for others it may be a life lost,
but for you it's a 'worthy death'.
no-one could comprehend
the dimension of your unending pains,
although now, the swing of your life's pendulum
couldn't be regained.
you played well, the role of your life
with lots of good deeds
still it'd terminated in this way,
maybe it's due to god's own 'greed'.
your life was a burden, still you fought undefeated
till the last breath,
for others it may be a life lost,
but for you it's truly a 'worthy death'...'
Mohit Sharma, 23 grudnia 2011
'A recurrent dream broken and I got awake,
felt disquiet, figuring difference between real and fake.
that dream was nothing but the reflectance of those days,
when worries holds' no meaning but happiness always embrace.
when thoughts were unbiased and imaginations were real,
even those ideas were pure and the virtues ideal.
when winning and loosing were synonymous of smile and tear
when life carries everything except hatred and fear.
neither religion was important nor caste and creed,
when notions blew from heart as minds remain freed.
where competing with friends was just a part of game,
even on being seriously hurt while playing, nobody ought to blame.
where winning even peanuts equals conquering the earth,
where neither 'me' nor 'you' but the word 'we' holds the worth.
where innocence and stubbornness both plays within veil,
no matter whatever the condition, where truth always prevail.
when smiles were chased as the flower by the bugs,
when life of the sorrow remains until the mother hugs.
now how much I miss them remains hard to measure,
all I've left in hand now are those bunch of moments' treasure.
still wondering how and what to pay...?
in order to relive back those true golden days.'
Mohit Sharma, 23 grudnia 2011
in search of an existence,
that'd almost sublimed,
the true meaning of my innerself
is still to be defined.
don't you be prejudice about me,
atleast for this mankind
although I am colour, but for humanity's sake
its better to be a colourblind.
neither restrict me within those borders
nor into your minds,
just as yours, even my birth is possible,
together when my blend got binds.
neither conclude any pessimistic implication of mine
as it can't be named,
nor fill me in your pictures of hatred
as the same couldn't be framed.
do not search hatred, into my
different hue and shades,
recognize my true character
before the colour of humanity fades.
I do not belong to any religion,
nor I do own any race
I am boundless like that sky
that do not have a defined face.
do not classify me into violent names,
that cause mankind to extirpate
leave me with my unbound existence,
before I appear as a reason to hate.
paint your hearts with me
but not your discriminative minds,
so what I am colour but for humanity's sake
its better to be a colourblind.
Mohit Sharma, 23 grudnia 2011
On a pile of debts I took a premature birth,
They left me soon and gone somewhere far from this earth,
I grew up alone in that shady alley with less than ordinary worth.
On a verge of this globe that is full of hatred,
My soaring dreams hatched with that utmost urge to get fade,
Within the hands of many, my existence often got preyed.
On the streets of my childhood, I began learning in misery
They offered me haunted teachings, full of unknown faith free
And roots of my notion began to flourish, to hold my chaotic hatred tree.
And the day came when I first met with those innocent eyes,
Emotions erupted and expressed within that moment disguise,
Those days were astonishing, when with no wings I can dare to fly.
Amid the beginning and end, it was end who dominate
My love deceived me and lost abruptly in dark to get fade,
At last I’ve left with the word ‘Love’ as a synonym of ‘Hate’.
My life’s road was long and destination undefined,
Those chilly nights were cruel and my dusky days blind,
Into me when they incubated seeds of ‘Jihad’, the divine.
They tortured me up till those limits, where humanity ought to fade
To train me how to liberate terror for which I suppose to get paid,
It was the moment I first realized that, “Devils are not born they are made”.
On that untoward dusky evening, amidst a crowded track,
I killed myself through, with thousand others in a suicide attack
On that road to God’s place, the mournful soul of mine never looked back.
I always desired to set myself free but not at all in this way,
Where my soul left with guilt and debt of those innocent lives to pay,
“The true meaning of Jihad is within your innerself”, is what thy holy Quran say.
Now those blood soaked cold ruins of mine are lying here and there,
With that obvious guilt, agony, insolence and abysmal care,
Thus, my life concluded in the midst of that deserted road to nowhere…
-unbound mohit
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