Moving Ahead

When the chips are down, and you only have a frown,
When the person is gone, and the memories stillborn,
When the sunshine has melted, but the heat hasn’t relented,
When all doors are ajar, yet the destination is afar.

It is then you know, that your life is stuck,
And you have exhausted the last drop of luck,
With the first wave of loathing you are struck,
And you realize, this time, there’s no passing the buck.

You cannot for now forget, and maybe forever forgive,
But you know there’s something that’s got to give,
Tired of life and its memories, you can no longer live,
Yet death doesn’t come, allowing you to leave.

Your experience may have held you in good stead,
But to turn a new leaf, they prevent you instead,
Just remember, when all things come to a head,
The only progress you can make, is by moving ahead.

- GUPTA GHOST

Looking Around

When all your life seems resigned to doom,
And you never want to get out of your room,
Just look outside, and see those flowers bloom,
And rest assured, you may never know gloom.

When you’ve burnt your entire life’s crop,
An you believe have reached a dead stop,
Just stretch out your hand, feel the raindrop,
And rest assured, you may never remember the flop.

When you are drowning in your mind’s wine,
And the foliage begins to surround like a vine,
Just walk outside, into the warm sunshine,
And rest assured, you’ll never fall short of hope’s twine.

In everyday life, these problems do abound,
And when you blink, they hesitate not to surround,
But when you feel their merciless grip has you bound,
There’s always an answer nearby, just look around.

- GUPTA GHOST

Just By Changing

To look up at the stars and begin to dream,
About why things aren’t always the way they seem,
Why life holds back surprises till the last moment,
When it becomes too late to apologize or repent.

When the days pass by, busy in sustenance,
And ridicule is what you face for penance,
When objects of form have no underlying substance,
And they try to fool you, at the next possible instance.

When to your worries and troubles, nobody will listen,
And your downfall, everybody is trying to hasten,
When all your endeavors end up in nothing,
And you dread the suffering tomorrow will bring.

It is time to wake up to the world of realities,
Of the foregone chances and missed opportunities,
And every night you realize, there will be another morning,
When your life can be improved, just by changing.

- GUPTA GHOST

Walk In The Rain

As I step out of my shell, life a shamble of failure,

I look around, what the future holds, not sure,
A distant rumble makes me in my steps stop,
As I am hit from above with the first raindrop.

Within a short time, the drizzle turns into a rain,
And I feel myself reborn and whole once again,
I stand there getting drenched, these drops can’t stain,
In this jubilation, from dancing with joy, I cannot refrain.

I am ambling in the twilight of that morn,
On which my pride and honor was fatefully shorn,
Struggling, stumbling I crossed the border of disdain,
As the rain washes away my tears, and years of pain.

As I walk in the rain, on this monsoon evening,
I am suddenly aware of an innate awakening,
I realize that a man is just clay in the moulding,
His effort can make him a vagabond or king.

- GUPTA GHOST

The Flame Within

It is sometimes focused and loud like a hammer,

And yet suddenly, is soft like a whispered stammer,
A voice so unique, its meaning only to me discernible,
A message so realistic, its impact indismissable.

It fires me into a limelight that nothing can shroud,
Yet it remains hidden, like receding sunlight behind a cloud,
Beyond my undreamt expectations it propels,
Yet to act within my limitations it compels.

Whenever I find myself untowardly bickering,
I look inside to find it visibly flickering,
Whether it controls or only guides what I know,
Is not revealed by its steady, uninterrupted glow.

It knows no tomorrow, and lives not in yesterday,
It is only concerned with making me give the best of the day,
In life whatever situation I find myself in,
I will never forget to ask the flame within.

- GUPTA GHOST

Reason For Rainbows

Droplets of dew on tender petals every morning,

Beams of sunlight between awaiting leaves peeping,
A solitary bloom in a forlorn, unabided desert,
The breath of fulfillment after a tiring effort.

A sudden cool drizzle on a hot, humid day,
A blaze of light that blows away the misty grey,
The sorrows of the day, swept away by the canary’s song,
The exuberance of counting waves for interminably long.

The long dark night passes away into temporal oblivion,
The light of the sun just penetrating the cloud’s dominion,
And the stage is set for the greatest of all show,
As the sky is arched with the colours of the rainbow.

As we watch the resplendence of the seven colours,
A thought flashing across my mind clearly hollers,
That the reason for rainbows, like every new child born,
Is that God still has hope in mankind for another morn.

- GUPTA GHOST

Once In A Blue Sun

The rising shadow of tomorrow, looks down on the shadow of today,
As for today, I know not the difference I made in any way,
Much more than the short yesterday, I decide to accomplish,
But between achievement & aspiration, am unable to distinguish.

I have been trying all of today, just like yesterday,
Before finally deciding, that failure is here to stay,
Every new venture, only got me more sadder,
As I failed to grasp, the winding success ladder.

My innate sense decided it was the last time I fell,
The sudden shame of failure pushed me from hell,
The first taste of success has an incredible story to tell,
Of how things got started and going so well.

But once in a blue sun, comes dear opportunity,
Ignoring it is the bull’s eye way to failure,
As unable as one is to predict the outcome of activity,
For, in life, however safe, you are never sure.

- GUPTA GHOST

Life

Colourful flowers are seen in bloom, hither and thither,
However, at the end of the day, most of them droop and wither,
A person who is fit and healthy at the break of dawn,
May no longer be alive, to see the sun next morn.

The miracle of life leaves no unturned stones,
For, without it, the body is but a bag of bones,
The value of life is known, not by the man who commits suicide,
But the hardest rock, in which inexpressible feelings reside.

Death, riches or fame are no measure for life,
For, no amount of money, no advance in science, or the surgeon’s knife,
Can bring back to life, a body by cold death crumpled,
Or pour a new life into a Frankenstein assembled.

The only measure of each one’s life is our breath,
For, the final destination of all things living is death,
The earth was obscure and a speck in a galaxy of strife,
Until the moment it was blessed with the gift of life.

- GUPTA GHOST

If I Could Tell You

If I could tell you, when time deems right someday,

That, be not deceived by the glint of the early morning ray,
Sometimes matters are so complicated, that it’s too early to say,
Whether or not you are moving along the right way.

Just as the waves of the ocean ceaselessly try to reach,
And swallow up further miles along the beach,
It is very rare similarly, to find someone to teach,
That all life is a code of ethics, that’s difficult to breach.

If I could tell you, that all power is a mire,
That temptingly sucks you into consequences dire,
And no amount of money you earn or hire,
Can buy you an ounce of the happiness you desire.

Dewdrops are an illusion of overnight rain,
And your honour is more worth anything you gain,
For all else are images that will recur again,
Like the endless cycle of pleasure between pain.

- GUPTA GHOST

Falling Leaves

When you wake up on a cloudy morning,

And feel the coolness set your skin burning,
When fortune plays a rhythmless tune,
And beyond dune is yet another dune.

When you can no longer bear any more,
And there’s still a lot more in store,
When your inherent ability is brought to fore,
And from the lashing, your mind and senses are sore.

When familiarity seems a total stranger,
And lurking in the corners is danger,
When things begin to happen none too soon,
And there’s no sign of the oncoming monsoon.

Across the sea, when no shore is visible,
And the crack of dawn, seems not credible,
When the last bit of despair and of fear,
Is replaced by a flood of tear after tear.

With the shadows around growing longer,
And the weakness within getting stronger,
When the certainties in life begin to ponder,
And neighbours appear to shift away yonder.

When the vapours begin to gradually freeze,
And yet, there’s no sign of the comforting breeze,
When at horizon, the earth meets the sky,
And ‘within your reach’ is still too high.

When the stars begin, to one by one fall,
And everyday demands seem to get too tall,
When the mountains begin their forward surge,
And to do nothing you require a greater urge.

When the densest fog seems too clear,
And your enemies want to get really dear,
When the distances seem very much near,
And yet, your own heartbeat, you cannot hear.

When everybody in your life goes nowhere,
And being here is no longer the same as being there,
When nothing, is the maximum that you will share,
And indifference is about all that you care.

When everything is visible even in the dark,
And yet, not a single arrow finds its mark,
When the shadows throw themselves on the light,
And even the meek don’t give up without a fight.

When at the climax of a successful show,
You forget the direction in which to row,
And the shame of failure, doesn’t even let you bow,
For, the seeds of desperation, it has sought to sow.

That there is a tomorrow, suffice it to know,
Keep your cool and let the bad times flow,
Falling leaves in autumn aren’t the ending,
But a sacrifice for the offshoots of a new beginning.

- GUPTA GHOST

Effort

What impresses most of us is a soaring kite,
Displaying to the wind its unsolicited might,
A kite is a piece of paper the slightest wind can ruffle,
Yet it survives, because of its incessant struggle.

The sight of butterfly reminds us of beauty,
Whose wings are an example of perfect symmetry,
From the cocoon, it has to itself wriggle,
Else it will remain forever a cripple.

A journey of a thousand miles, begins with a step,
Remember, Rome was not built in a day,
Do not delay, or deny yourself the beginning step,
For, while the sun shines, you need to make hay.

The greatness of achievement, lies not in success,
But in trying persistently, without a recess,
You have to first erect a fountain, to see it spout,
Because life itself begins with an effort.

- GUPTA GHOST

Dewdrops

Glistening dewdrops herald the vibrant new morn,

And on its incessant tour, the sun is again born,
Fascinated, I reach for a leaf with a delicate hand,
And as if by instinct, the dewdrops slide down to a thirsty land.

Life itself is transparent like the dewdrops on a viewing glass,
People look around and smile at the lush green grass,
By the time they turn back, they see only the brown barren land,
And life to them seems no longer so resplendent and grand.

As cautiously as I climb up life’s stairs,
I am increasingly met with confusing stares,
I walk up to the door, laughing amidst a group,
But step in alone, with only my destiny to grope.

I look around to find a face I can read,
And surprisingly there is no one I need,
With every step, a changing world opens anew,
Like the ever-fresh glistening drops of morning dew.

- GUPTA GHOST

Butterfly Dance

You look up and see a butterfly fluttering,

As from flower to flower it goes nectar-seeking,
Similarly, each one of us has a distinct role,
Fulfilling which we must set our sights on a higher goal.

Just like the different patterns on different butterflies,
The light in one’s eyes may be the beauty in another’s eyes,
Sometimes, moments of life and moments of death come as a surprise,
The reason for this mystery of life, we are none the wise.

On reaching the base, aim for the mountain peak,
On reaching the peak, the sky you must seek,
Conquering the sky, reach out for the stars,
Never mind if you fall, time will heal the scars.

Remember that your life is just a butterfly dance,
Which pleases the watcher at every instance,
Never let go, even if you have to crawl the distance,
For you will never again get such a chance.

- GUPTA GHOST

Be Yourself

The eagle flying high above feels the burning heat,

That caused the scars on a man walking bare feet,
However the sun doesn’t hide its brilliance behind a cloud,
Just because people in a desert, move around in a shroud.

What makes the moon the crux of the night, is its ambience,
It’s soothing rays remain, whether in crescent or in variance,
A late night man, about a moonless night complaining,
Doesn’t stop the moon’s cycle of waxing and waning.

A symbol of ceaseless sturdiness are the mountains,
The very foundations of solidarity is what it contains,
It never bends to anything or anyone until it is eroded,
For the lowly passing cloud, it doesn’t bend its head.

Never do something, just because it is done by others,
If God had wanted it so, He would have made you like others,
But YOU are unique, you have your own self,
Remember, at all times in life, to be proud to be yourself.

- GUPTA GHOST

A New Beginning

A tired old moon sets, as a new dawn begins,
I stand shattered, looking down on my wins and losses,
Not realizing that its long since you weren’t there for me,
But I have always felt, that in my heart you will always be.

In a few more years, the memories may wear off,
And those days of happiness may soon tear off,
Opening the gates for the gradually rising wave of misery,
Showing me that effort is the way out of this drudgery.

As you progress, the sand under your feet may erode,
But only to make way for a new untravelled road,
So put a foot forward, and achieve what you are able,
Or just spend your life incoherently counting a pebble.

During the journey, it is inevitable to fall on your knees,
But don’t let your vision fall, below the tops of trees,
For I shall walk step by step with you till the ending,
If only you take heart, and make a new beginning.

- GUPTA GHOST