Few words...

Seldom are the days when a sip from the cup of life feels as refreshing as this The mind can't help but wonder, why aren't they all filled with the same passionate bliss What do they lack? The comfort of friends and family? or the warmth of somene close? Or is it all of them combined, that makes the difference, In a period that destiny chose.. Whatever it is... Like a cleansing sea, it washes away the problems for sure... Creates the space I need, in the attic of my head, it leaves a beam of light ashore... All I hope now, is that this nectar, fills up my cup to the brim... I'm done feeling sad and sorry, want to lead my life like it's mine, minus dreading the future and feeling grim.

ओ मेरे नेता, क्यों तू पैसों को है पूजता? रिश्वतों के काले बाज़ार में क्यों न तेरा हाथ दूझता? इस देश की सेवा में, एक बापू ने जाँ निसार की मगर, अब अगर वो हँस रहे तो सिर्फ सौ-हज़ार के नोटों पर | जब विश्व के शीर्ष पर हो रही भारत की बुलंद पुकार है तो क्यों देश के अखबारों में भरे तेरी काली कर्तूतों के सार हैं? क्यों देश के उज्जवल भविष्य को काली स्याही से है लिख रहा ? बलिदानों की धरोहर का हो कर भी क्यों कौड़ियों में बिक रहा ? अपनी कुर्सी को ताजो तख़्त ना समझ, सेवक है तू राजा नहीं, देश की आवाज़ बन भ्रष्टाचार का टूटा बाजा नहीं  | क्या देश को ठगने के सिवा तुझे और कुछ ना सूझता ? ओ मेरे नेता क्यों तू  पैसे को है पूजता?

This is to my mind wandering in wilderness, lost for too long out there in the dark, now the silent fire inside me grows, waiting for that lost spark... I have lost many battles, have been injured in many spars, now it is time to rise the occasion, it is time to raise my own bars... I can't see the dangers that lie ahead, nor can I predict my own future, all that I have is my dreams, they are those which I must nurture...  It is time to see clearly now, time to stare back at every target I mark, It is time to stroke that fire gently, It is time to give it that missing spark...