thoughts within me

How do I stop hating myself,
for things I’ve never done,
I know I should have,
I could have,
I would have,
had I begun.

How do I stop these thoughts,
they build on their own,
and keep running
in my head,
while I sit still,
feeling undone.

How do I stop hating myself,
for things I’ve never done,
when I face a challenge,
my mind keeps shouting,
run run, run away,
run run.

How do I get off my arse,
and make myself more useful,
be a propelling fuel,
that drives the future,
and not a lump of mass,
an embarrassing burden.

How do I stop hating myself,
for things I’ve never done,
when I face a challenge,
my mind keeps shouting,
run run, turn around,
run run.

How do I stop punishing myself,
for every little mistake,
every promise I break,
the guilt compounds,
when I realize my good fortune,
and feel that I owe everyone.

They say move on,
look, the future is waiting,
but I keep debating,
and the step never moves.
I’m haunted by the thought,
that no matter how far I reach,
one day I’ll lose everything
one by one.

I continue to hating myself,
for things I’ve never done,
when I face a challenge,
my mind keeps shouting,
run run, go and hide,
run run.

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He was sleeping on the couch,
away from their bed,
she was unusually silent,
pretending he was dead.

He knew the storm will pass,
but the night will be his penance,
he makes the same mistakes again,
but fails to grasp the essence.

That the man may be a breadwinner,
but he’s as good as a sinner,
if he doesn’t understand his wife,
he’s a sad soul for the rest of his life.

If only he had realized this sooner,
beside his wife, on their bed, he’d have slept,
that whatever he does since their wedding night,
the wife must always accept.
the wife must always accept.

Doesn’t matter how noble his intentions,
how genuine his feelings of love and care,
sweet words can never warm a heart,
that’s raging with fury, raw and bare.

He knows the storm will pass,
but the night will be his penance,
he makes the same mistakes again,
but fails to grasp the essence.

That the man may be a breadwinner,
but he’s as good as a sinner,
if he doesn’t understand his wife,
he’s a sad soul for the rest of his life.

If only he had realized this sooner,
beside his wife, on their bed, he’d have slept,
that whatever he does since their wedding night,
the wife must always accept.
the wife must always accept.

The pain of despair only grows,
as you carry it as a reminder.
You feel you’re forever disgraced,
and don’t deserve any better.

You drown yourself deep enough,
to be deafened and blinded.
Because you feel there’s no one,
in whom you could have confided.

You’re so used to darkness by now,
that stepping out into light hurts,
You’ve tried and given up, many times,
that you’ve decided it will never work.

But you do look at those who walk,
and laugh and dance in the light,
and somewhere that desire stirs up,
and you hope, what if it just might!

When you feel that desire grow strong,
and you’re ready to give it your best,
step outside, keep walking, don’t stop,
we’ll be waiting to welcome you back.

He never wanted to be a father,
but he got married following the customs,
and intoxicated by lust, produced a baby boy.

He never wanted to be attached to his family,
yet everyday he felt sinking deeper,
into his unconditional love and affection for them.

He never wanted his son to join the army,
but didn’t stop him after witnessing,
his valor, love and pride for his motherland.

He never wanted his son, his only child, to die,
he wanted him to get married and be a father,
but God always seemed to be cruel to him,
yet kind to all other Indians his boy died protecting.

I look behind me, over my shoulder,
at the distant speck I can hardly see,
from where I’ve come so far,
always kept my head low and obliged,
sneaked through the gaps I could,
naively avoided life’s scars.

But when I raise my head up and look,
at the war zone, the gun-firings and the fallen,
my eyes stare in horror at what I see,
at what I always believed to be fantasy.

Up till now my purpose has been to stay safe,
because failure hurts, and leaves a scar.
I’ve always wanted a simple life, a clean score,
never dared to stretch out and ask life for more.

I see scars many people carry,
some shamefully, some proudly,
but they all say the same when asked,
a scar may remain but its pain never lasts.

I dare to raise my head and look up again,
at the war zone, the gun-firings and the fallen,
I stay still behind the wall, few seconds more,
to witness the fallen stir up and ask life for more.

Everybody is late on a Monday morning,
because we don’t like waking up,
Sunday’s wine was too much.

Everybody is late on a Monday morning,
our maid is late too,
but for us that’s nothing new.

Everybody is late on a Monday morning,
together we’re stuck on the road,
waiting and looking at the billboards.

Everybody is late on a Monday morning,
and missing Saturday already,
while getting ready.

Everybody is late on a Monday morning,
our neighbors with a daughter and a son,
agree that Monday is no fun.

Everybody is late on a Monday morning,
but we don’t care,
Monday comes so soon,
Saturday comes so late,
its just not fair.

Everybody is late on a Monday morning,
and like every Monday like today,
Saturday will come again soon someday.

I fell in love with an angel,
and married her soon,
Lived the best days of my life,
every night was honeymoon.

I called her my sweetheart,
she called me cutie pie,
we made so many promises,
including never to lie.

I thought it was all going good,
but I had failed to understand.
she wanted much more from me,
and now there’s trouble in loveland.

I guess I failed to read the signs,
to suit my own comfort,
and one day when she burst at me,
I felt it was quite absurd.

I hate to argue and fight,
but I was left with no choice,
I tried to defend my male ego,
but felt weak against her feminine voice.

I couldn’t say I didn’t listen,
else she’ll know my poker face,
I was left but with only one choice,
to save myself from disgrace.

I apologized, gave it my best shot,
made big round puppy eyes,
luckily few tears began to trickle,
and she couldn’t see through my lies.

she hugged me with delight,
relieved, perhaps hopeful again,
I was just happy to avoid a fight,
and restore peace but in vain.

For soon I went back to my ways,
enjoying the life like good old days,
once again I thought nothing will change,
unaware of a female’s expectations range.

I thought it was all going good,
but I had failed to understand.
she wanted much more from me,
and again there’s trouble in loveland.