What do you do?

What do you do?
When you have nothing to.
Do you sit by the window,
And look out, 
Look out at the world,
Wonder, what it is like to be that bee that hums and hovers over that red rose,
Or think about the decisions you made; the path you are walking on; and the people you chose.

Are you disturbed when you are alone?
Shhh! Come close
Close to yourself. 
Its cozy and comfy and lonely,
Better than those who are but are not
And those too who want to and cannot.

What do you do?
When you have nothing to.
Do you look into the mirror
And embrace the facade,
Click yourself and then edit
Whilst nature loses its credit.
Or do you rather see into your eyes
Try to locate the scars on your soul.

Is there a want of death lurking  about?
Hmmm! Shut up. 
Why to bother with it,
Or why to try to grasp its arms,
It is on its way to you anyhow.
So, you better live and act
Before the final bow.

What would do you do?
If you had something to do.
Hold someone's hand and with them stay
Or by yourself walk away,
Chain yourself with the laws meant to bound
Or hustle to change the things around,
Sweat and bleed to carve your way, 
Or would you let go and give away,
Dream a reality
Or lose yours to a dream,
Mediate in silence
Or burst out in screams,
Try to find what you desire
Or would you lose yourself in the world's mire,
If you had something to do?
Would you hold someone's hand and walk away
Or in your solitude forever stay.

At my behest

At my behest
At my behest,
Get me a decaying leaf,
Or a new born butterfly,
Life of a dead thief,
Or demise of a woman sly.
Get it to me now, come on
Bring me a broken pencil,
Or may be a coral red,
Get me an unfilmed reel,
Or a flower dead.
Get up, will you now,
Listen! Just bring me a lantern,
Or a half burnt cigarette,
Show me a haunted mansion,
Or may be a mystical amulet?
Don’t be so rude to me,
Just bring me a candle,
Or show me a dug up grave,
Or your old bycles’ handle!
May be a hidden cave?
At my behest,
At least get me a picture,
Or instead a bottle of rum,
For all my inspiration is lost,
And my lady refuses to come.

The reel

The reel

In some way or the other
Memories find their way,
In some form or the other
They creep into my heart,
And rewind the reel of life
Taking me back to the start.
And then again play
But on fast forward,
The film of my past,
As myriad images of myriad people, and moments begin to flash,
Both good and bad-
Both joyous and sad.
And they play on, until
They trace back to my aching heart,
And to me, in the present,
Where I sit in solitude
Watching, as they fall apart.