Here I am

So here I am,
Another Sunday evening,
Desperately trying to becoming a better me,
For tomorrow, that will be a rehash of another Monday.

Even my 4 lines are out of rhythm,
For I am learning to be better at excel,
And watching another movie which says live in the moment,
Weird, for this tomorrow and that today seem to be irreconcilable.

The beats call me on, enticing, making things simpler,
But the ego that is me, scoffs, for there are bigger, challenging mountains to climb,
Being the best it says, that is what it boils down to man!
My mirror of I is and will always be bigger than I can ever be.


It is such a relief, not to think hard about the rhyme,
For there is a constant tussle to be in synch, logical, right!
Trying to fit the pieces so hard, of a puzzle I understand a little too well,
But the story, the puzzle tells, I miss.

I think the need is for the meaning, the aarth behind the numbers,
All I need is the rush, aligned with who I am,
For that is what will give the soul to the targets and the days,
Just need to find where and who I am, for the numbers to be a little closer to mean a lot.

Today or Tomorrow?

And again not in present anymire,
Willing to lose today,for the fancies of tomorrow,
Crafting yearns of tomorrow , amidst today's torpor,
Building happy paper boats,in today's drains,narrow.

Why am I lost?Or am I really lost at all?
Ecstacy of future , that hit oh so high,
Willful blindness ,perilously,close to abyss,ready for fall,
Pinch,and the bubble bursts,me alone and my walls.

My imposter self,smirking,holding the keys to door,
Mocking me,scoffing,daring me to shakle out,
Me with my golden cuffs,drugged,chained to the floor,
Comfortably numb,stuck,safe tucked in,sans doubt.

Path?

We all are living some kind of quite desperation.It stays alive,alive when we lose,fall on our faces miserably, even more so when we win...feel like a fucking imposter,a bloody fraud who is not meant for all these praises because frankly speaking ,I am not worth it.Why are these people saying twisted sweet nothings which cuts through my skin harshly like a barbed wire...or some sharp cane that was used in school... Not on me though... Coz I was safe there...good boy u see...and I am good even now...being a little different calls for balls.All I wait for is the next failure to prove to myself that I am worthless. And somehow it is a relief in proving that to self.
Now I am not sure that these words are a testament to reality or is it just those few minutes I have when I am not busy running on the treadmills, or is it because I am watching tamasha once again and it seems fancy to associate self with the protagonist who is living a life of turmoil and desperation. Possibly all of them. Or probably I met Ruskin bond today who is darn content doing what he is doing at 80.Or is it reading marukami who is just hurting me with every word he writes.
Or may be I realize I am not strong enough and struggling between my hipocracy and imposters syndrome.
Questions like,if I cant prove myself here will I be able to do anything elsewhere? Will I be able to live my dream if I can't prove my worth in eyes of who all are watching?
Freaking confusing.
Can I step up,weather the challenges today or is it time to pick entirely new battles and say fuckall to gauntlets thrown,strewn all around me... Or are they a noose...I am too tired for this shit.
Should I just accept what is Today like and be happy... And it is not bad today to be honest... Keep at it and hope it will get better.
Or do I thrash all of today for a tomorrow which scares the shit out of me.
Again, am tired for this shit today.

Kisse

किस्से कश के किस्से जाम के,
किस्से कुछ नाम,कुछ गुमनाम से

किस्से जिन पर रोये थे कल, आज शाम मुस्कुरान के
पीछे देखा तो लगा, किस्से नहीं वह दोस्त थे

साथ चल रहे थे,सँभालते हुए हमें,बिना किसी मंज़िल के,बिना किसी मक़ाम के 

Somwar

सोमवार को भीड़ भड्डाके वाली जगह ढूंढ़ता मैं ,
जहाँ शोर ही इतना हो की अंदर की दबी आवाज़ बेज़ुबान हो जाये

रविवार को दूर भाग रहा हूँ कल से, आज की रात को कस कर पकड़ के बैठा हूँ
कस के बैठा हूँ , इस रात की चमकती हुई रोशनियों के दरमियान

की बस आज रात यहीं रह जाये और कल सवेरा न हो 

To be or not to be

Most of my work is pretty derivative.
Sans originality, a fancy by product of the closest most easily available, comfortable anecdote,harsh truth and pain that I can find in vicinity.

Themes are pretty much same too. Discontent, expectation and so called pain on the status quo that plagues my existence in general.

But reading something today stirred it slightly more than I usually let on.
Hence a few lines.

Hopefully I don't forget what they are screaming to tell me today as I write under a stupor.

To be or not to be was never a question, never a stumbling block,
Always to be imagined how it would be , the shining victory hop,
Never to be,the tortuous route, the treacherous  terrains,
Fears to sleep with, holding the smiles, amidst the pains.

For the dreams were to be too certain, and not to be insane,
The path , oh so cured, no disagreements,just embellished with fame,
Lights were to be bright, with the halo of success behind,
My trophy just in sight, up for grabs , the laurels set, lined.

And that is how it was to be, or not to be ever,
For the journey is going to be a fucked up, harsh, severe.
Not to be were the questions, the self doubt , the loathe
The naysayer guard of my dreams satisfied, as I twitch,back and forth.

For it knows, that the itch was to be temporary,easy
No driving force, lulled to sleep again, settled, cozy,
Could I break the shell, run the full mile, and miles over?
Or will I die, regret ,the could be, would haves and the never.