Poem: Back into Harmony

She was always around me,

but anonymous was she,

under the hood,

a locked treasure.

I wish, I snatched her then

and left no regrets remain.

If only, I had found the right key,

had I written the right note on the staff,

up had been my life’s graph.

Love was always in my kit,

but masquerading was it,

behind the veil,

bag full of gold.

I wish, I played together, black and white,

Had I made all pieces fall in the place right.

Those were omens, the singing birds

and the old Radio, my friend.

If only, I listened.

Music was always there,

lost somewhere in the air.

All I had to do is knit the harmony,

to turn monotony into euphony.

The strings are now attached

and my heart now skips a beat

in melodious rhythm and retreat.

It sounds like percussion,

a bell rings

and pushes me on my way, to conquer my Passion.

Ashish

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Poem: A walk through the future

Hello Reader

This evening I was in my hostel and near a washroom I heard the sound of water flowing out of a tap. Someone might have left it open. So, I just went and closed it. Then I realized that there would be so many taps in different corners of this world which would be leaking, left open or even tap-less wasting a huge amount of usable water.
And one day this will lead to a huge water crisis.
Then we also have, to make the scene more uglier and intense, air pollution, deforestation, CFC gases killing ozone, etc

So here is a small poem on the same.
My recent researches on Time Travelling have helped tell you the tale from a sci-fi angle. :)
here it goes...

When it began,
it certainly was a dream,
but now he knew, it wasn't.
He was witnessing the tomorrow, today.
Travelled to the future,
where everyday was a doomsday.
No rain since ages and impotent soil,
all he could see was chaos and turmoil.
The world war three was about to trigger,
and nations debated over the last drop of water.
To peep into his future, he was so keen.
'Is this what I wished to see?', he thought.
What a waste of a Time Machine.

When it began,
it certainly was a dream,
but now he knew, it wasn't.
He saw a fish in the pond,
too much stoned to respond.
He explored, but negative.
There was no butterfly.
Everything was blue, except the sky.
Nothing was green, expect the Battleships and Military.
On the positive note, smokers stopped taking tobacco puff,
the corrupted air was poisoned enough.
The count of holes on the ozone were now umpteen.
'Is this what I wished to see?', he thought.
What a waste of a Time Machine.

When it ended,
he knew, it was a nightmare.
But now he is wide awake and well aware.
It is time to save water, petroleum,
and the endangered ones.
Unless they are to be kept at a museum,
for the generations to learn about their heir.
World should unite for it's longevity,
as fighting over nuclear issues, isn't fair.
The Mayan's prophecy can still be jinxed.
The holes on the ozone can still be fixed.
The forests on the earth can still be green.
"Not my past, but I can write my future!', he thought.
For showing me my future, Thankyou, Time Machine.

Ashish