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The Love of My Life

Engulfed in it.

Like a child,

Trapped in a building,

On fire.



And then comes a point,

When the cries,

Fail to come out.



The breath rescinds.

And ultimately,

The child dies.

The remains,

That they cry over,

For hours,


And months.

Those remains,

Know nothing,

But of the liberation,

Of being breathless.

Being dead.


Oh dear, death!

I yearn for you.

I am waiting.

You take those,

Who hate you.

But the ones,

Who are ready to embrace,

Your tranquility,

You ignore them.

Why dear?

Why this injustice?

Why not give my soul,

The peace,

The vacuum,

The seclusion,

It is waiting for?

My remains,

Will lie,

In a bed full of flowers.

My soul,

For once,

Will be happy!

My mind,

Will be free of thoughts.

Thoughts, that killed me.

That took me away,

From everybody.

Take me.

Take me away.

Where you live.

A secluded place.

Where nobody expects,

Nobody betrays.

Dear death,

Give me this gift.

And I’ll shall forever,

Be your slave.



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Life, As We Don’t Know It.

Three years ago, when people used to ask me, “What is your aim in life?”, my answer used to be, “To become successful so that I can take away the problems of this world”.

Three years down the lane, the problems are still there. Increasing. And those problems have crept into my life too. I’m frustrated than ever. Happiness, I don’t know of. When was the last time I was happy? I don’t know.

I wake up and I literally cry from the inside that I don’t want to go to work. My health is deteriorating.

AMBITION. What a powerful word. People used to say, “Hasmeet is so ambitious.”. And it used to make me feel proud. But that very ambition has made my life miserable. I’m working so hard on something that is the very reason why I’m miserable.

And on top of that, I do not know how to stop. I believe in the law of attraction so much. And I know I’m outta this job sooner than I’ve imagined. Following the herd is not always wise. Government job. Sounds like a lollipop. But it’s a bitter lollipop. The worst flavour you’ll find in the market.

Ah! My problems may sound so trivial to the ones who really need a government job. They’ll call me thankless. But life is not the same for everybody. I hate my bitter self. I curse people and that is something I really didn’t do earlier. On top of that, I curse myself. I doubt myself.

There are people who have bigger problems. Yes, people are dying of hunger, terrorism, hate crimes and what not. And I’m cribbing here about a job that is paying me well.

Well, I hate my ambitious self. I desperately want happiness.


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The sweet odour of roses

In hues of scarlet and cerise

Approved by the herd

For her it was unheard.

Lillies and their charm

Their beauty filled the whole farm

Long ombré petals

In their serenity she revels.

Lillies loved the care

With her they made a wonderful pair

The hues of orange, yellow and pinks

With joy, made her eyes blink.

They thought of her as a lunatic

Partly, because she’s always been a sidekick

And then she started comparing

The beauty of Lillies with the mighty roses.

There were questions and doubts

How on earth do her Lillies flout

The age old norms of roses

Being the best among all.

She sank deep into a jungle

Forgot the ethics to mingle

With the roses lovers

Her Lillies brutally murdered.


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You rise,

And fall,

And still go on.


You care,

You cry,

And still  manage to love.


You are power,

You are life.

But still treated as a mice.


The  beauty within,

Is unimaginable.

But still,

Your silhouette is what they savor.


You are the creator.

And the nurturer.

But your chains,

They tell a different story.


You are blamed.

You are tamed.

You are a prisoner,

In the hands of your creation.


They cheat,

They sly,

They rip off your mind.

And still,

With every single vein,

In your body,

Burning in flames.

You rise.

Rise like a Phoenix.

With love ever-flowing.


Oh! My love.

How? How on Earth?

How do you manage?

To be so forgiving?


They burnt you alive.

Threw you on a live pyre. 

Your own blood.

It just kept quiet…


You were draped.

In silks and cotton.

In long flowing skirts.

Hoping to shut your soul,

To a world full of potential.


Break this glass of illusion.

My dear.

Break it.

Let them typecast you.

Let them keep you in a cage.


You spread your wings.

Your beautiful, white hued wings.

And break free.

To reach the skies.

Skies full of your dreams.


Be your own creation.

And not the creator, 

Of ruthless dictators.

Who betray,


And leave you in abyss.


You are the creation.

Of a world,

That belongs to you.

And not the puppeteers,

That you created.


You are,






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Sorry That I Failed You

Even the tears,

The ever flowing tears,

Have dried on my face,

Leaving indelible marks.


The pain in my heart,

Which evoked once,

Has gotten into my conscience,

I cry, I cry.


Oh! My Rohingya brothers,

My beautiful sisters,

And our innocent children,

I am sorry that I failed you.


They left you floating,

In lakes and rivers,


I could see you all helpless,

But all I could do was nothing..


Your feet bled,

Whilst you crossed the barbed wires,

Their gunshots piercing through your body,

Your cries, oh! your helpless cries.

I am deeply sorry, I failed you…


For days,

Your belly was without food,

Families lost,

Some completely washed,

In the Bay of Bengal.

I am sorry that I failed you.


Dear son, how we rejoiced,

The first day of your school,

Never a thought crossed our mind,

That it will be your death pool!


He stabbed you once,

He stabbed you twice,

I failed you little munchkin,

I silenced your beautiful voice.


They shot an ideology,

They shot her voice.

Dear Gauri Lankesh,

But why are you still alive?


Their only aim was,

To bury your alighted mind,

But little did they know,

They’ve alighted millions of lives.


Who are they?

Cut from the same cloth, right?

Members of the same family.

But lagging in foresight?


This world has enough pain,

Enough souls who are suffering.

Please stop adding to that number.

Please, enough with the plundering..


And all I can ask,

Is for your forgiveness.

It is my utterly shameless silence,

That has created a world so VICIOUS.


Asking for forgiveness,

H ❤️

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Sorry Neighbor.


If I may,


I have been,

A devil in disguise.


Oh what ‘Aman ki Asha’?

What peace,

If I may ask?

My fellow countrymen,

A fallacy in which they bask..


I have killed love,


and every beautiful feeling.

I know hate,


And why would I even conceal it?


Forget about a country,

Forget about a state.

The street that I live in,

There are many people I hate.


I may,

If I want to,

Wear a mask of love.

But really I’m a villain,

Benevolence, I don’t speak of!


And why,

Why on earth will I be ashamed?

And critical of myself?

Aren’t we all in this together?

How well we repel!


And teaching hatred,

To our kids.

Doesn’t sound so filthy.

“He did first, then I did”,

We find it healthy!


And isn’t this,

What’s going on?

From the past 70 years?

Blaming each other and all of the rest,

“Uh! The mistake is THEIRS!”. (always)


There are widows on both sides,

Childless parents,

And also orphans.

But who cares to budge, my dear,

We are totally okay with coffins!



We do shed a tear or two,

Whenever a soldier dies.

But the martyr can’t be yours,

‘Cause otherwise we will rejoice!


A fake motherland,

I like to worship,

With all my heart.

But only for a day or two,

Rest of the days I’m a total pervert!


Bring on,

The next 70 years now,

Shall we?

The nations we both so love,

Let’s turn ’em into a debris!




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Pakistan Kills 2, India Kills 2…

I was going about with my morning routine; tea, breakfast and reading newspaper. Then I came across this picture which moved me to tears….

An innocent kid weeping incessantly over the mutiliated body of his father. The question isn’t here who did it. The question here is why? And for how long????!!! 
Pakistan kills 2, India kills 2. 
Children from both sides become orphans. Women from both sides become widows. Hostility grows. And for what? Only to satiate the egos of a few politicians? What personal enmity you and I have with Pakistan? Or what personal enmity does a kid or even an adult in Pakistan has with us? Nothing! 
But this killing is unstoppable. Blood is shed over and over again. We discuss this over and over again. But who listens? 
Hate has made us hopeless maniacs. We follow the herd and join the ‘I Hate Pakistan’ club. Without even knowing why it came into being. Without even knowing our follies. 
But how does that matter to this little kid now? He has lost his father forever. A father, for god’s sake! I can’t imagine in my dreams living without my father. I commit mistakes. I prance around proudly. Why? Because I know my father is there to protect me always. 
But this kid’s father was there to protect to us all. And he died. Mercilessly. 
We weep when an Indian soldier dies. But rejoice when a Pakistani soldiers dies. Why? Wasn’t he a father? Or a son? Didn’t he have any family that will mourn just like this little kid?  
How can we be so negligent towards the emotions of their families? Why can’t we all come together and stand firm on the face of the governments of both the countries that we don’t want violence. If you guys have a problem, then just stop talking. Why kill innocent people from both sides??? 
My heart pains… 
Love and respect,


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Agony Of A Chopped Tree

I was planted,

Then I was watered.

I was taken care of,

With undying love.


The world was a sanctuary,

Full of nothing but merry,

Where I could rejoice,

And have my own voice.


Then I started to spring,

And heard a bell ring.

They are on their way!

But I can’t even run away!


“Who would come for my help?”

I couldn’t resist but yell.

The thumping of their feet,

Echoing a drumbeat.


Chop! Chop!

The first of my branches dropped..

Ruthless maneuvering I could see,

Nobody to help a feeble tree.


This went on,

For long.

I was in utter pain,

Alas! It was their reign.


I was told to serve others,

And in the process self-smother.

Their faces had grins,

While I was dying from within..


Who do I tell that I want to grow?

And not to become an art of Michelangelo.

Their craftsmanship would cut me into dices.

And they would all call me priceless!


My agony was their ecstasy,

And it was my only legacy.

To serve, I was nurtured,

In the end, brutally murdered..



H ❤️

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I Am My Own Prison

They are on my lips,

But they fail to come out.

My thoughts have no way out.


They rise and fall,

Like the mighty waves.

But then a sudden halt.


My wings were not chained.

I flew above the sky.

But now I feel tamed.


I am in my own prison.

I wanna rise.

But it seems to be a distant vision..


They say they all love me.

But their sounds are pain in my ears.

I’ve lost my glee.

With my ashen face,

I roam around.

I am my own enemy.


Been a while,

Since I enjoyed.

And had a real smile.


Nobody can save me.

I am imprisoned.

No one to hear my desperate pleas.


I wanna do what I like.

Not to please them all.

I wanna live my life.


With clipped wings I try to fly,

But fail miserably every time.

My hope is now dying.


My cries die before they come out.

I lie wailing from the inside.

Let me live before I’m completely washed-out!!





The Distant Freedom

I met a boy,

Distressed beyond words,

Crying relentlessly,

His appearance was shabby.

It was my curiosity,

That led me to him.

“Why are you crying?

O! Little child?”

At first he was a bit startled.

Looked at me straight in the eyes.

Then a weak voice came out,

“Nothing… It’s nothing.”

Now that I observed him,


I couldn’t let him cry,


So, I gained a bit of courage,

To ask this weeping, innocent child,

The cause of his distress.

This time, 

He was less wary of me.

Somehow, we both connected.

A feeble voice struggled to say,

“Baba is beating maa..”

And there I was,


My hand on his shoulders,

I was speechless.

I was grappling with words.

What do I say?

How do I console?

How do I tell this little soul,

What his father is doing,

Is awry, beyond words..?

This guy lives a mile away,

From my neighborhood.

Fell in love,

With a damsel,

A heart that loved all.

People all around,


Love before marriage?

O! They were all embarrassed!!

Alas! Their love story,

Was short-lived.

Just like many,

We witness daily.

My friend had a dream,

To paint this world red,

The color of love.

She held her brush,

Dipped it in crimson pigment.

As soon as she took the brush out,

Her father held her hand,

Threw the brush away,

And placed a book there, instead.

She now lives a life,

In strife.

Disputes, her existence.

What was so wrong with the brush,


There’s a girl I see,

On the traffic signal, everyday.

Greets me with a huge smile,

And extends me a flower each time.

Wears a torn frock,

Always barefoot,

Hair gone blonde in the sun,

Skin, dry and broken…

I buy a rose from her,

For ten bucks,


I have bought a piece of bread for her.

And then we part ways,

Only to meet the next day.

I see, and I remain quiet.

I choose.

I choose to remain quiet.

Because I have the FREEDOM.


Domestic violence.

Well, I should remain in silence.

Two hearts,

Forced to be apart.

Sounds too amusing,

For a gossip to kickstart!

Dreams of youth,

Kept under wraps.

This word ‘freedom’ that they taught us,

Well, it was just a trap!

Children asking for money,

On the streets.

O! Poor thing.

I may as well give.

But taxes?

Eh! How can I give it a miss?

Freedom has come down to,

Being a relative word.

For some,

It is a right.

To some,

It doesn’t come,

Even after a fair fight.

Only those celebrate it,

Who overlook its true meaning.

For the real thing is,

Freedom has never been ours…


P.S.- Be it Bhagat Singh, Chandrashekhar Azad or Jawaharlal Nehru; we Indians have always loved our country. Since past 70 years, we are celebrating what has gone by and keeping our eyes shut to what is happening. Winning our country back from the Britishers was not freedom. Doing anything that doesn’t harm anybody is freedom. And I’m sorry to say, that freedom has not arrived yet. So, why not work towards it? Why not work to make our beloved country an ideal country? Let’s leave all the apprehensions behind. Let’s unite in uniting this country towards the cause of love; love that has shaken the very being of the strongest of hatred prevailing in this world. For, we live only once and let’s unite to make this one life worth living 🙂


Happy independence day, my fellow Indians 🙂