Makhtub, living life as it comes

A ping, a message, a vain attempt at losing a conscience, What matters is a space, barren yet vivid, the colour and its vision, For the more you grow!, the space widens with its myriad colors, A space between the mind and the heart, Filled with its barren colors spurts out life, In little brooks and rivulets, Bringing forth all that life!! brings forth, In true measures of worldly devotion, Emotions and life events all but take their own colors,  Colors defining their own vision of life within the plains of the barren land, Plays of life, love and life liven up the barren land, In red, green and blue. Oh especially blue, to take away the blues, The colors and the barren land, The short springs and the rivulets of emotions, All are but illusions of the same barren land, Mirages and delirious rants of the barren mind, Keeping the heart from what it always has known There is NOTHING but ONE, ONE but NOTHING

A thought never spoken, A word never shared, Easier hidden than spoken, For words fail but love does not, All that is said is said, All that is to be heard is heard, Yet spoken words are never heard, Unheard words are always spoken Pain and suffering may change lives, Paths chosen may be broken, For what is there but to mend and move on, A life is but lived just once, Living experiences are but once, Lifetimes relived always in memories. Pain Pleasure Thought Stress Memories Lifetimes All are but the pawns of a single coin, Flip it across and all that is left is but one, The ONE thing that lived out lives and merged again- the soul

A weight never lifted, A weight weighing in on the mind and the heart, A weight, failing to lift or lighten All it does is be a burden, A burden that changes what is but conscience, Changes lives, relations and teaches all but acting ok, Cannot live in one's own skin, yet lives does the burden in you, The fight of the minds are but just begun, Long and drawn and mostly hurtful, What matters is but one life, And this shall not be burdened forever, For, family, friends and life are much more than just burdened, Burdens will come, they will be let go,  All that will remain to be said would be.. This too shall pass.....

A space made for self Honest and just. Just for living and to sustain Walls of thoughts and actions grown beyond petty bickering, What is today is result of a time gone past, Past yesterday, month or year, TIME, past present and future, bolsters the truthful walls within. Enter: vices, Roaring out its battle cries, The vices want to breach the walls, Walls that still sustain, barely Needs, wants and bad poetry all together, All but remain is the fight that never ends A battle between right and wrong The truths and the vices, The prophet but thinks of one question What is right and what is wrong, Truth and vices are but  perfection and decadence , Perfection and decadence of the same spirit LIVING through LIFE

Twas a night before Monday, actually twas Monday, early in the day. Not able to sleep, the boy pulled out his extension, his cell phone and started typing out. The random checks of mails, networks and instant messengers done, the world now was a silent place. As silent as it was, even the music playing in the ear was little different, things away from the fact that the boy's health needed attention, not of the world but of himself. To quote business, twas was not a balanced business model. Then again, years of deprivation had taken their toll, the sleepless eyes, twitched more than the usual, the blinks had almost stopped and the warm,feeling when closing ones eyelids were replaced with a sharp pain of burning sensation, the nerves more used to remaining open , were protesting closure. Then began a journey, as the words started to flow, just like the music in the ear, the streams of life grew again. It came and went, the chemical mocha's and the fascinating warm...