Skip to main content

Life's a Rented Home




Life is a rented home, One day you have to change.
Death when calls your name, You have to leave it.
When happiness becomes unhappy with you
It moulds itself into sadness.
A time will come you fool, You have to walk on thorns
You will become so innocent and helpless
That shrug of your velvet had to be changed into coffin
Clean your heart with faith, Leave the dirty deeds.
Still there is a time wake up else you will burn in hell
Your condition will become so
Neither money nor power will work
And you will be thrown out of your own tall building.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I am a Prostitute, Sir!!

When my door is been knocked Food cooks over my prestige's stove For you its business's dirty food But in night my daughter doesn't sleep empty stomach I am a Prostitute, Sir! Food is overpriced than my pride! Every morning my body broke up with pain His hand through my breast squeezes my heart For you its necessary pain But in morning my daughter goes to school I am a Prostitute, Sir! Today's pain is bearable against her future! Everyday i put darkness on my face Dreams dress up on bed in the face of money For you they are pieces of my soul But my daughter fills colour in her book with it I am a Prostitute, Sir! Her happiness is expensive than my body!

Unsung Heroes

Do you know about heroes They don’t act in feature films They deliver our newspaper and letters They fight for us sovereignty and dignity They grew food for us They pick our garbage They mow our lawn They repair our vehicles They guard our doors while we sleep! Do you know who else is a hero to us Who wash our clothes and iron them Who bring our groceries Who wash our utensils Who clean our house Who open the doors for us Who picks up our luggage Who washes our toilet and cleans our drains Who wanders everywhere bringing us the vegetables!

It's Just not a Pen

कलम मेरा ईमान, कलम ही मेरी पहचान है।      क्योंकि, जब मैं था अकेला तन्हा और भटका हुआ, इसने मुझे आवाज़ दी, जब मैं था बिछड़ा सहमा और हारा हुआ, इसने ही मुझे सँभाला। कलम मेरा भगवान, कलम ही मेरी पूजा है।      क्योंकि, जब मैं घिरा अंधकार और छल कपट से, इसने मुझे उजाला दिया, जब मैं उलझा सांसारिक मोह माया में, इसने ही मुझे रास्ता दिया। कलम मेरा गुरु, कलम ही मेरी साधना है। क्योंकि, जब चला मैं दिशाहीन अनजान रास्तों पर, इसने मुझे मकसद दिया, जब बुराईयों ने मन में घेरा दिया, इसने ही मुझे लड़ने को एक हथियार दिया।