Suppose...

Suppose with me an imagenary world 

Where boy looks boy 

And girl seems girl 

yet boy is a girl 

And girl is a boy 

Suppose with me an imaginary world 

Where boys were interested in shopping 

And girls were interested in sports 

Boys wore jewellery

And girls roam on streets like vagabonds 

Suppose with me an imaginary world

Where boys remain always excited 

And girls were always flirting on boys 

Boys cooked food after marriage 

And girls worked all day in offices minting money 

Suppose with me an imaginary world

Girls fighted for our country 

And their boys waited in home weeping 

Girls held roses in their hand to propose a boy 

And boy had the power to say yes or no 

Suppose with me an imaginary world 

Where a girl whistles on a boy 

And boy passes by giving a shy smile 

A girl was a tech guru 

And a boy was makeup savy 

Suppose with me an imaginary world 

The gangs were of girls 

And gossips were for boys 

The girls wore shirts and pants

And boys wore sarees 

Suppose with me an imagenary world 

Where girls did all the rituals 

And men were stopped from th same 

Boys kept nail paints 

And girls did not care for their nails 

Suppose with me an imagenary world 

Where girl became the stick for parent 

And a boy considered weight for their parent 

And boys left their homes after marriage 

And live in the home of girl 

Suppose with me an imagenary world 

Where girls dominated the boys 

And boys were beaten up by girls 

And girls raped the boys 

Boys life doomed forever 

Suppose with me this imagenary world 

Suppose with me this imagenary world 

Can it be worse

I saw a man yesterday 

And his condition give me a brief foray 

For I was at once tempted to think about him and his likes

That roam around begging around cars and bikes

Their grim face 

Left behind in this fast pace 

Their unkempt hair 

Potraying life had not been fair 

Seeking rats eyes 

Finding honey in house of flies 

Their dried ashes mouth 

The pain grievance they eagerly shout 

Their hard, black, tan ,muddy skin like a broken tile 

Parched more than that of a crocodile 

Their vertebrae bent ,almost protruding out 

Sharing the fate of a trout 

Now their naked bodies 

Clothes, a word so foggy 

Their hands or is should say only arms that too for some 

Remain on their shackled head weighed down by problems lump 

Their twisted bones and bent knees 

Worst than that of bees 

Their feet chiseled by sharp stones 

Accustomed to bear the pressure alone 

No place to live , no place to call their own 

And no food , to dread their bone 

Their thoughts have lost their mind being numb 

They move in this perpertual maze of the poverty's hump 

Years come by years go by 

But they live the life in a constant sigh 

For a man who has walked on Bing 

He has to fear nothing 

Dried in heat shivered in cold 

Making them strong and bold 

Their future their future misty rusty foggy 

Doomed forever by winds so gusty ...

Waving winds ..

A beast roaring in its den 

His den being the nature 

Making happy all women and men 

A happiness never felt before 

Waving in its womb 

Me u , everybody 

See there, leaf flying up the tomb 

See there , flying worries of an old to baby 

Everybody out of their homes

To feel the freshness 

See a glimpse of the invisible 

Feel it hear it experience it 

Everything dancing on their foot 

Celebrating the festival of wind 

So come on my friend come on 

It's the wind waving its the wind 

Tale of a flame

A flame flickering

Trying its best to sing 

A song so faint so feeble 

Like among rocks a pebble 

Waving right to left left to right 

Attempting to get a sight 

Audience it seeks 

Telling its tale through small beak 

It shines so bright 

Lighting the surround with its might 

A captive held in a glass 

Trying not to be alas 

People come sit laugh talk and go 

Even in large crowd loneliness ads to sorrow 

But no, it still waves 

There's hope in me it says 

It lives his life king size 

And try to rise and rise and rise 

But suddenly then a wind flows by 

And the poor flames dies the poor flame dies 

A matchstick then appears from the dark 

And the flame in the glass again lives on its mark 

And it's journey again starts 

To carve a niche for itself in other's heart , other's heart