The Art of Kite-Flying

" The sky is clear after that stormy night
  Sun is bright and the clouds out of sight
  A gentle breeze turning violent at times
  Bemusing all with its bitter surprise
  Standing with others, I am doing my best
  To judge the winds while planning conquest.


  The gregarious some are fenced by their peers
  Working together they are speeding near
  And I see the lonesome others, persistent and ardent
  Struggling with their papers but still being fervent
  As I peek inside me and wonder where I belong
  A voice echoes that I was both all along.


  Ah! the winds have now turned favourable for good
  Bringing surge in ardor and a boost in the mood
  A Sudden rush of adrenaline is now filling the cavity
  Left behind by failed attempts and depressing reality 
  Enthralled by the lofty winds, I could see
  The urge in those papers to go up and be free.


  Far away, holding the string is an innocent soul 
  who has tall dreams and majestic goals
  A relentless stress swiftly builds up inside
  In the string that he pulls to reach new heights
  As flinty tension breaks the rythem of the flight
  Lost are the dreams now and so is the fight.


  Suddenly, an analogy is evolving in my mind
  Isn't this game similar to the story of man kind
  A Career in the making is the kite flying high
  Aided by the winds that are Opportunities in disguise
  Restrained in motion and often indulging in strife
  Tied with the string that resembles dear Life 
  As I witness that little boy's despair and his crying
  I search for the one who can teach me the art of kite-flying! "


- Mohit

The-Last-Resort

" The tables are turned, the courts have changed

  Hopes are crushed, the spirit is caged

  Steps all heavy, the base gone away

  With ambitions fading, the night killed the day

  And I wonder, what is the last resort.

  The weather so hostile and the sun turning cold

  As the darkness aproaches, the confidence is all sold.

  Mind is flickering, and the emotions outcry

  Like a desert the dreams are all dry

  And I wonder, what is the last resort.

  The first hiccups mark the struggle

  On the way are the hidden hurdles

  But Man has leaned not to buckle

  As a warrior makes his win double

  There is something to learn from these stops

  Never to sulk and shed crystal drops

  A setting sun still carries the hots

  The time is right to join the dots

  I know the ride is rough and you can't just hop

  But as you lose your breath to reach the top

  That is my friend, the last resort! "


- Mohit

First Step

" Sometimes the desire to do something is overwhelming, and we must seize the moment."

Even now, biting my lips and looking towards the ceiling, I am thinking otherwise than to start this blog. But the above dialogue is ringing endlessly inside my mind and so here I begin. Forgive me.

Since I dont know when, I was forcing myself to write something. A blog was not the first idea that hit me but I started off with writing beautiful and sometimes agonizingly boring poems and rusty two-liners on greeting cards. I got my share of fans and sometimes more than that, a volley of rusted cans!

This venture is going to be different. So bear with me the enunciation of my soul. I will have an opininon on each matter that I expatiate here. Any criticism will be given an affable reception and be rightfully dealt with!  :)

Happy reading.