Solace in words

The thesis of life is not written just yet, it has to be imagined, plotted, edited and then finally written, but there is a lot to create and discover before it's finished.

What do I do?  I'll do what I want to, Something my mind does not know But my heart does, Something I may not have an idea about, But it's not illusionary, It is not cascading with success, But it isn't failing either. It's just like an ant, Trying its best to Climb the pinnacle of success, It may fall down, But it doesn't die, It's my 'future'.

Anger rushing through my mind, something which I can't hide,  But remembering that face makes me smile in grace, Tired and worn out at the end of the day, But remembering that face and the tiredness gets erased. Trying to sleep but feeling scared, remembering that face and it slows down your pace. Got a bruise on the leg, Crying in despair, the lovely face vanishes the pain away. Who is the lovely face? It is your mother, who stays with you, cares for you,  Who has sacrificed for you infinity times, who loves you unconditionally,  To whom you can never payback what you owe her with any amount of money.  Endless love, respect, and care is what she deserves.

Your words pinching my heart, Your actions ripping it apart, Your accusing me of things I didn't do. You used me the way nobody else did,  You hurt me the way I could never imagine. Thinking of you, memories stabbed my mind,  I thought you were kind,  But alas! I was so blind, Unable to see your thoughts behind. I always cared for you, Fought for you, But you wanted more, After trying so much I gave up my heart,  After all you thought  I wasn't worth you. And then you put it all on me And said 'I' betrayed 'you'.

Stuck on the ground,  Ripped apart by a nasty hound. Relations are nowhere to be found, No one to call around, Surrounded by something so similar to self But almost dead to the world, Nothing assured in life, When the wind blows,  It might take the poor thing to places it never wants to go,  But who cares to know? Having a life but can't decide where to be, Under a foot, Or under a tree, Just as it wakes up thud! Came the sound, A strong foot pressed it down. Filled with sorrows but no one to share with, Ignorance is all it gets from the world, the trees, Even abandoned by the bees, God thank you for giving me such a precious life,  But please never give life like that of grass to anyone, Not even to the enemies for grass is  as lonely as sound, stuck on the ground, Too hurt to even turn its face into a frown.

History is a story to be told, an impossible mystery for Holmes. All the successes, all the regrets in the store, follow a really long struggle for sure. Many at times it has given scars till its core, but as the time passed they became cold. One was given to my nation’s soul, which created a really deep hole and it parted the nation, though. First the Mughal then the British and suddenly we were in the prisons India and Pakistan now what they were supposed to be, two different countries, two different souls, two different forces, two different goals, entirely different at the core. Many people killed, blood trickling everywhere, it was a horrible sight in despair. Now nothing could be done, it was all a waste. Now the regrets won’t help, those who were killed have already gone their way. This made both the nations to hunch back and stay, It was all a blunder to my dismay. It has made many hearts cry, even today.

Thousands of people I meet, With a smile I always greet. Whenever I make a mistake, Sorry is the first word I'd say, And always hope for the same. But for some people, Life is just a game, Money today and tomorrow fame. They know that they are wrong, But still insist to be right, So they don't hurt their ego inside. On the road not far away from them stood a beggar once, But they were so selfish that they couldn't even shed an ounce. Always tensed about the competition of reaching heights, Counting who took how many flights. Laughing at the ones who couldn't stand where they are, But they should not forget that even a tortoise won the race from a hare. But its useless telling them, All they want is money and fame, They are the colors I can't change.