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Something more!

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I sat to write something Something that would tranquilize the readers Something that would satiate the inner me With joy which knows no boundary   A notion all at once dawned on me Writing is such a bliss and glory I can delve inside myself And bring out all I have ever wanted to I stop and fantasize about writing I stop and think highly Of every piece of writing I have stumbled upon And deem the collective endeavor by everybody Put into oeuvre and creativity Hundreds and thousands of years Some fictional and some bona-fide tears Would have been crafted To make this basket This basket may not itself realize its preeminence What it gives When it becomes a confidante For a lone wolf When it takes a crestfallen Into its jovial realm When it opens a whole new world For somebody who abhors the existing The basket may not itself discern its virtue There are many who consider it Something more than...
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A Man Called Sherlock

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Is Sherlock Holmes Intelligent? Undoubtedly, not the right word for this man. He has got more than just intelligence. What does this man do? Well, I would say he is a detective. But then he would correct me and say – “A consulting detective, the only one in the world, and I found this job”. If you have watched this man, then you know this smart as a whip man. If you haven't, then you missed something prominent. If you run into him, don't be surprised to know that he knows you more than your neighbour. What you did yesterday, how old your clothes are, if you had a break up a couple of days before or even your next plan. He just knows it all. Don’t say it’s trick, there’s no magic here, it is something called the ‘Science of Deduction’. He will make this out by observing how you hold yourself. Do you want him to be a friend? You can't flatter this man to impress him. He calls it 'boring'. Sentiment for him is a chemical defect found on t...
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The Eternal Sky

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Looked while thanksgiving Glanced at while in trouble An interminable space to The little kid’s imagination And room to the Grown up’s insecurities Gandered by The eyes of aspirants, The atrocities of tyrants The stories of dreamers, The trust of believers The hues of rainbows, And the indited prose The wrath of black clouds,        And the veiled shrouds The shatters in history, The unsolved mystery Place to unheard words, And to flying birds To unseen scars, And to clustered stars Witnessing all lost fights, And the wavering kites To all the colossal ruins, And to smiling moons A considerate ally The eternal sky Being gone through all Exemplary and small Yet remains unflappable there Every day and forever.
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