What kind of dreams come true?


oblivious of what we people want

we weave dreams, illusive ones

which we never intend to support


we cry for inevitable

one anyway dies, one anyway lives, sooner or later

talons of fate for sure know how to collar

an iota of odds in favor, then eluding dreamer’s eye

in fact, the stage is set with a backdrop of failed trials


days and nights abound, we circle around

inquiring about the bull’s eye and what’s such in rage,

by then the passion of bowstring fades; the fancies

found in shoreline art weeping with receding waves,

lines in the palm portraying a different shape


we cry, we curse, we criticize,

and we lie to ourselves (Yes, to ourselves!)

forging a false belief, altering a dream within a dream

and, accept the unprecedented as our destiny

as if we humans are obedient kids, know not to rebel


I wonder how we surrender

to the upkeep, to the promises, to the luxury, to the assured bright

of future we hold our hope in

unless the promised timeline coincides,

future is what if not tomorrow’s ‘today’s time’?


I ponder what kind of dreams come true

or is it the dreamer who has more potential than you?

why do you agree to leave things behind, the things that are dear to you?

and hold on to things you never wish to?


the dreamer within is in deep sleep

with saddened beat and smothered heat

lips are bitten with a blemishing smile of a victim

scared and slaved to breathe, we lie there in hope-

to get hunt by fate in any shape, in any form

for the rebel inside us is no more


when standing in a desert with deserted hope

wondering what rivers to quest

having no thirst to quench anymore…..?


© Written Frames,2018

Tug O War


contemplating mind

like clink of a spoon spinning in ceramic saucer

echoes of outer quietude

inside it stirs tumult


contemplating mind

like falling raindrops and soaring vapors

freeze in flavors of air, so love-torn

in tug of war between heaven and earth


contemplating mind

like avalanche of landslides

unclasping roots of patrimonial grants

surfacing new dimension of self-birth


contemplating mind

like wind blows on one fleeting summer night

chasing dried and yellow leaves

towards their rest in seeds of spring




©Written Frames, 2018




Always be a son

Always be a daughter

Wherever we live

Far away from parents;

Doubts ruled out


And lovers?


There will always be lovers

Wherever going, wherever breathing

Find your new specials

Mirage of ‘the special’ ruled out

Announce a new name for your beloved


Love and the lovers we love

Always change

And so the one who loves


©Written Frames, 2018




That thing

Snare it barefaced

Blood of betrayal in swollen veins

Coincidental encroachment

Into the thick myriad of faces

Blink and save the identity of truth


That thing

Chokes on honey slurps

Exhales grotesque fumes that blur

The feigned mirror tutored to reflect lies-

Merry angels furbelowed in red and white


A play-play dullard is enforced awake

Rises through the saline storms of rift

The chasm chiseled for long with pain

Bloated chest deflates, free being victimized

Villainous laugh unchained


That thing

Shimmers with the shame engulfed

Once were the proud eyes to fall in love with

Bowed before the lash of vengeance

Wrinkles of mortified silence crack


Open and exposed


©Written Frames, 2018

Let us be simply human


Of skin
Of hair
The colors differentiate
Of birth
Of language
The origin to negotiate
Of creed
Of religion
Which god to advocate?
Of gender
Of choice
Sexuality questionnaire
Of privilege
Of status
Render respect or relegate?
Society doesn’t hesitate,
A cacophony of dogmatic tastes
It questions
It criticizes
It blames;

Did we have a choice?

But we have a choice to voice.

Seeds of life scatter all around
Variety of dishes is to tongue
So diversity is to ground
We are many, yet one
We are with differences yet equal
We are earth, air and space
We are water and fire
We coexist, variance to embrace
Why to call names
One over another to encroach and claim?
Let us be wise and enlightened
Let us be at peace together
Black or white, man or woman
Hindu or Muslim, rich or poor?
Leave the differences,
Let us be in fusion
Let us be simply human.

© Written Frames, 2017