Two times in all
Never meant for his fall
At times he stand tall
Others, he lack walls
So blissful, hearty and hale
Fewer times he turns pale
In it’s beauty life is a rail
He’s never expected to derail

In the dawn, he’s had a whale of a time
So excited, thinks at his prime
Conceited, thinking it’d all rhyme
Hadn’t thought he’s in crime
What about the good old days
Serenity were those ways
Prayer, in those days pays
Couldn’t he pray and do as God says?

In his cause, nearly pyrrhic
Now in the web
Of course, the law is no freak
What! Now that he can’t sneak?!



Coming home from home
In the wilderness
All alone
Commuting in darkness
Strange faces to “it’s” dismay
Cheer thought quite truly
Or should “it” go away?
No, after all its only a journey.

Smile Stamped Since SHE’s serviced
Even when not quarried
In its ignorance
To any of the existence, is “it” a hindrance?

Do they have anything to lose? When it comes ignorantly
Like when asked to choose
Where would “it” like to be?
If this persists
“It” would rather be deceased
So as to be pleased
Leaving home back home!!!


What should a man need to make him happy? First, you must attempt to define the word “happiness”, because that most subjectively elusive of noun is, perhaps, next only to “love” in its slippery variance from one case to the next.

For one man, happiness may mean taking great risks and overcoming unimaginable dangers – scaling Everest, or jumping from an airplane at ten thousand feet. For another, happiness can always be found by his own fireside, with a loving family and a well – stocked pantry, and enough golden – year’s retirement money in bank certificates and mutual funds. A third man may discover his happiness by bamboozling other men and conducting a deal that puts a few more obscene millions into his numbered Swiss account. A fourth man wants racy cars and desirable women, flashy clothing, fame, a hit record, the adulation of the world. These are perhaps simple forms of happiness, depending on the wish of adrenalin, or constant affection or the peace of mind that comes with security, or hungry greed, or the desire for success and the envy of others, yet they are not unfamiliar forms of triumphant attainment or even unworthy goals. We certainly recognize all forms of them; our society sanctions and even applauds them. But they are – after all – simple desires.


What of the truly moral and intellectually complex man, for whom happiness cannot be defined, but merely delineated by a number of difficult, labyrinthine, and interdependent factors? What if he’s one of those who know that happiness at the best is transitory even ephemeral in nature? He is aware that, on the same morning that the multi millionaire rises depressed and miserable in his to greet the day, the blind beggar may wake up in his cardboard box laughing out loud in rush of joy. How does anyone explain that? And, further, how may you grasp at that joy in living and hold it close so that it can’t wriggle free? What form of happiness if any can be tamed and made to stick around?


 What if a man has never felt the need of another’s arms around him, holding him close to give him comfort, has never missed the sound of a child’s voice and a woman’s singing? Suppose he lives many years without the agonies and ecstasies of physical love, lives until his heart seems to have shriveled up like a raisin. I f a sudden, unexpected flood of emotion, of desperate caring for  another, should overtake him unawares, would that poor dried – up little heart burst asunder in one mighty explosion.

Happiness means different things to different people.


What does happiness means to you?!