And you smile.

I go to sleep with tired and bloody eyes,

And you smile.

My dreams, hopes, wishes

die a silent death,

And you smile.

I strive and struggle hard

to get over what was the past,

And you smile.

I wonder, no, I try,

And you smile.

I move, I fall, I stand and walk,

And you smile.

I smile- too hard, crush emotions and drive them far,

And you smile.

I got lost and torn, now wander lone,

And you smile.

Still, I ask, pray and hope,

And you smile.

A tremble passes as the Time dies,

And you smile.

It goes, it stops, and on it goes,

And you smile.

Choked, frozen, soiled and dead,

And you smile.

The Fountain Drop

It’s been two months since I have been here in Berlin. Obviously, it’s a very different country than India and there are numerous observations for a rookie like me – new people, new places and new experiences. I like this city and in a very short period I got so accustomed to its ways that I wonder if I am here for the first time. I love the gardens here. Anywhere if there is not a building, there is the green grass laid on the ground with a fine display of trees in surroundings. It’s all beautifully planned and maintained yet so simple and soothing. Even in the midst of all the city noises, you can find the silence of a forest a few steps ahead. One thing I like very pleasing and beautiful, in simple words, is the music being played at every corner and any spot on the streets. I like the random way in which the spots are chosen by the artists. How clearly it shows the freedom of a will, to choose any place one wants and do whatever one feels like. Or just to frame simply: balanced boundaries. I enjoy this the most. Here, in Germany, people don’t beg. They earn with respect. The rule is simple – “Money is to be earned”. There are some famous spots in Berlin where a person can go many times without ever getting bored. It definitely depends on the person and ones keen observations and interests, but at least this is the case with me. If I don’t get anything to do or any new place to explore during my free time, I would simply take the train to Alexander Platz or Brandenburg Tor and sit there for long, watching people and Nature. These places are a perfect blend of the natural and synthetic. It’s all new, always. So it was again another weekend today when I came to this known place. Somewhere I see people dancing on Violin notes and at another end, the Tango is being performed, brilliant soap bubbles bursting in the sky and machines working as always in making the fountains flow. The sunset makes the Brandenburg Tor shine and this is one of the most beautiful scene in Berlin. This all, strangely, is in perfect harmony with each other. Everything is so finely tuned here; just like the Piano keys supporting the Violin strings. The silhouette of the fountain drops was also a part of this harmony, with the flowing water being the background score for the Evening. Trying not to be poetic I typed something unaware of my presence, which was again in harmony with that moment.

Like a free drop of water,

Jump and fly,

be free and fulfilling

the enthusiasm in Self.

Filled with desires,

beyond restrictions and boundaries;

Fly high.

So what, it’s easy,

To fall into the deep waters,

still rejoicing the mixing,

Filled with memories of joy in the past,

with the moments gone and yet to come.

It’s an end there,

And there it begins,

With the force of life surging within,

Fly high again,

With many others like you,

In a moment so beautiful,

because it is there,

There only, for You.

Terra Incognita

To cry for a past that was never a time,

to die for an urge that never was born,

to miss a being that never existed,

to suffer a suffering never created,

to live a life that cannot  be lived,

to feel a touch never been done,

to cry on lonely nights alone,

to be a part of the one unreal,

to wish a wish that can never come true,

but just to wish for an illusion;

to choke the throat to suffocate the death,

to scream a pain aloud

when even the soul is deaf to it,

to hold a thing so tight in hands

while losing it forever,

to beg to die for living a moment

which is lost in far eternity,

to go so deep to never return,

to wish for an end at the beginning itself,

to just dream to live and to live in dreams,

is nothing but the unknown destiny of love.

Wanderer

Oh! ye the one who holds this world,

Come back on this earth where you belong to.

The wings of invisible hope that you cast,

The fire unburned within your soul,

The faith, the unreal, the superficial;

Thou shall never seek.

Come back, ‘coz their’s is a barren land,

Moist is the soil with blood of feelings.

You walk in a swamp and sink beneath,

Feet upon you, and you’ll bleed.

Thy won’t be yours as never were their own.

Walk , as you’ll not see me here again.

Come for the last souvenir, before it dies,

And nothing will remain but your own demise.