Poetry, Thinker


One day looking at the night sky,
I closed my eyes,
Resting on the fluffy mattress,
Sensing the cool wind,
My soul took me to the forest of illusion,
Driving in the shades of brown and lush,
Falling in the tones of darkness,
Of vulnerability,
Cheerful birds singing and lending paths,
Scenting the serenity in my heart,
Smelling the taste with all my senses,
Feeling harmony in an eternity,
Seizing the composition in the mind,
I felt free and alive.
But suddenly I was pushed into reality,
Community and cities full of people’s misery,
Some crying for loss,
Some killing for a better future,
Some suffering in silence,
Some intertwined in the chaos,
But we all are lost and made this kind of nightmare,
We have freedom but we are not free.

And I gradually open my eyes and screamed for a while,begging myself and still wondering when did I lose my forest of illusion into a hysterical reality?

I keep wondering why some of us spare silence and sacrifice our values and beliefs while this is the moment to speak one’s mind,we are creating illusions for a better future rather than making a better present. 



Once upon a time,
In the 21st century,
As our lives are entangled in city glow,
With our mobile screens, laptops, and social brag,
With our vigorous lives, anxiety, and outrage.
Being an old soul heart,
I rescue from the tangible jungle to uncover a place,
An impression bound forever,
Full of darkness,
Deserted lands,
A quest with pizza and cigarettes,
A stillness of music,
Where breezes can be heard,
Where stars can be tickled,
Where silence can be understood,
Feeling fragile and empty,
I look at the sky,
Full of twinkling stars,
Dancing, crawling, jumping, running,
In the shadow of a silhouette,
In the blinking of glimmers,
Howling and whining,
To just pause and feel what you feel,
To lose yourself in the chaos of infinity,
Touching the moment,
With stardust,

To stare endlessness…



I often wonder what would be the world without the art forms?

Darkness Journey,
Monotonous Patterns,
Miserable Play,
Mundane Games,
Monochrome Nature.

But if we crave,
Art is an expression of ourselves.

In Dancing,
We relinquish ourselves,
Dancing to dance.

In Music,
We get lost to be found,
Music to perceive stillness.

In Play,
We visualize our stories and perfect climax,
Play of tales in our dreams.

In Painting,
We observe the little fragments,
Painting our energy with shades.

In Crafts,
We discover to fail and attempt again,
Crafting our own mistakes.

In Books,
We explore all our forbidden thoughts and desires,
Books to escape reality.

But special art form is understanding one another,

In understanding,
We feel our purpose of existence,
Believing magic can be real.


Strange story

What are we inhabiting: A System or A Business?

A path of evolution from assembling houses together forming cultures,
To attain a phase of creating fancy houses to exhibit.

A passionate society of thinkers,
To squeeze in a community of mass harvest of ideas.

A storyteller sharing joy and happiness with a smile,
To our pretty smile beneath our anxieties and depression.

A connection of being a part of the family or loved ones,
To dining alone with Netflix.

An exploration from creating and making mistakes,
To often live in fear, not living entirely.

An adventure to spend our weekends in the woods, stars, and mountains,
To consume our days in front of a computer screen.

A pursuit of understanding each other and appreciating,
To unfriend someone and dwell in despair.

A story of ethics developed through experiences,
To evolve in an attention seeker and relying on other’s belief.

It is remarkable to be a fraction of such an advanced technology but what about our emotional intelligence,”Our Dear Mind” which is regulated by our social community at the global status altering our personality and rendering us identical to everyone around?.



Do we examine our dreams?
Do we talk about our joy?
Do we discuss our curiosities?

Dream, Dream, and Dream,
Living like a Dreamer,
Visualizing the utopia,
Talking trees,
Walking leaves,
Nodding clouds,
Laughing lives.

Joy, Joy, and Joy,
Living like a cheerful person,
Dispersing in the utopia,
With darkness,
With imperfection,
With surprises,
With excitement.

Curious, Curious and Curious,
Living like a thinker,
Proposing our wonder in our utopia,
With observing the universe,
With helping around us,
With a caring individuality,
With a good heart.

Believe, Believe and Believe,
And hope like an ambition,
One fine day,
Our world will evolve with people who are dreamer,happy,and curious.



Catching a glimpse of rain falling,
Do we feel calm?
Dropping leaves from the Gulmohar tree on the face,
Do we glow a bit more?
At the top of the mountain,
Do we impel to scream?
Glancing at stars,
Do we feel gasping existential air?
Comforting stranger in their unknown journey,
Do we realize kindness?
Caring for someone,
Do we become messier?
Staring at the painting,
Do we imagine mastery?
Laughing with friends on same old stories,
Do we laugh more?
Through the smell of a book,
Do we reveal the process of tales?
Seeking for the materialistic thing,
Do we look around?
Deep discussions with understanding,
Do we travel to another universe?
Crying for our loss,
Do we heal?
Conversing to oneself,
Do we hear the silence?

Why can we feel and expressed,
In the same way, as we think and grow?



The cup of tea and deep conversations.
The bottle of whiskey and few mixtures.

The silence and the rhythm of birds.
Partying and dancing with the unconscious mind.

Laughing at old photographs and creating memories.
Crying at old love and feeling broken.

Pausing the dusk and capturing the silhouette.
Watching Netflix and narrating the mundane.

Staring at stars and knowing the existence.
Noticing the ceiling and whine.

The journey of existence.
The index of life.

Depends on choices,
Sometimes with the right judgments,
Sometimes with the regrets,
Sometimes with the incomplete story,
Sometimes with the chaos,

And yet sometimes,
We remember to be,
Happy in a moment.
And that makes a difference.