28 Dec 2014

Two Poems

Here are two poems beautifully keyed-in by my little brother, Upkar.
Hope you enjoy these :)

BOLTED

I may not be fun
But I tell you, Iam as Iam !
Although you may care none

A teen I am, young at heart
Curious, talented and smart
But not in your eyes

Coz I don't fit into your notions
Of being expensive and cheap
I live in my own world
One of dignity and virtue deep
But not in your eyes

In your eyes
I am a very stupid one
Coz by hook or by crook
You know to get your things done
But I do not

I remain standing
Bolted to the ground
My virtuousness and integrity bind me there
This is what I have found

But I want to remind you
That if you ever feel sick
Of the phoney muck
You have gathered around

Worry not, you will find me
At the same place
Because I am standing there itself
Bolted to the ground


I PRAY

I pray...
On this Christmas day I pray
For a world
With a little less work and a little more play

For a world
With a little more smiles and a little less frowns
With lesser metros and more towns

For a world
With a little less indifference and a little more compassion
Lesser cruelty and greater consideration

For a world
With a little less suspicion and a little more trust
Lesser deceit and actions just

For a world
With a little less vanity and a little more modesty
Greater responsibility and lesser frivolity

For a world
With a little less brain and a little more heart
Lesser of science and more of art

For a world
With a little less disparity and a little more equality
Lesser of gluttony and more of charity

For a world
With a little less darkness and a little more light
And a conscience to guide us
To do what is right.


 Guest posts are welcome!
Passionate about writing short stories/poems? Send them at connectinsight@gmail.com

 "If I waited till I felt like writing, I'd never write at all"
- Anne Tyler



14 Dec 2014

The 11th Floor

“11th Floor”, she said with a slight blush as he pressed the button.
Their eyes met in the 30 seconds up to the 8th floor, everyday.

She seemed to collect herself together. The empty elevator smelt of Le Bleu de Chanel.


“8th floor”, said the elevator. His phone rang, “Love in an elevator” and he turned it off.