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Deepak Ahuja Poem
There’s a fire on the stage,
And the fans feeling the heat,
To them it’s a sign of stardom,
But the first spark of this fame,
Burned my home, my kingdom,
Left me with few broken promises,
The fire brought me a fortune, for a Scar,
And yet I’m a Demigod, and yet I’m a Rockstar.
Blinding neon lights, outshine the Sun,
A humanoid zombie fiesta, a never ending run,
The fury within, punishes my hands on strings,
The red sins melt in the symphony that it brings,
And when I cry out the agony inside,
The rhythm is given, but tears are denied,
They enjoy the show of suicide, the weapon being my guitar,
And yet I’m a Demigod, and yet I’m a Rockstar.
I had all I desired, but is this borrowed life worth?
Fond of my naivety, will they hold my truth?
Yes! They do love me, but isn’t Love the name of my fears?
Of the prince of their Songs, will they hold the tears?
Will I ever be a fool again, to take the fall, in love?
Can I again wish for you, from a Wishing star?
Will I ever take you name again, in my unheard song?
And can your arms be the world to which I belong?
Every apprehension derived; leaves me aghast,
I’m stuck at the medley; of my future and my past,
Of a short lived empire of masked men, of which I’m the Czar,
Or for that cradle of love, for eternity that can last,
Where my transgressions, redeem their yield,
A premonition I carry, is to meet you in that field,
The only escape so I see, is that Field, with the door left ajar,
Where I’m just a human, where I’m not a Rockstar.
(Based on the Bollywood Movie - Rockstar)
Copyright © Deepak Ahuja | Year Posted 2012
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Deepak Ahuja Poem
With every word, with every phrase,
You breathe, you come alive,
A tale of truth, mapped with reality,
Or a dream unlived for which you thrive,
You live through what is written,
Or you choose to hold your pens,
It doesn’t matter how it ends,
Because it’s the end where it all begins,
Broken hour glasses of the War,
Acting as the mirror to see through the past,
The good is victorious, and is glorified,
And evil is evil, because in the battle they did not last,
With their blood, is inked the war diary,
So winner takes it all, and is called as ‘good’, hence,
As it doesn’t matter how the war ends,
Because it’s the end where it all begins
And then there is Romeo, falling in love
And Juliet waiting for him in the Balcony,
They kill Romeo, and justify the murder,
But love is charged for an unforgivable felony,
Died, the felons leave the stage,
But love lives irrespective of the skins
As it doesn’t matter how the life ends,
Because it’s the end where it all begins
You pose the king of you story,
Or in their game, you are just a pawn,
Your story is written in this moment,
Larger than life; this moment is never gone,
So when they bury you as a ‘Sinner’,
Be the phoenix to rise from your sins,
As it doesn’t matter how the Story ends,
Because it’s the end where it all begins
Copyright © Deepak Ahuja | Year Posted 2012
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Deepak Ahuja Poem
The sound of air; bidirectional,
I keep on breathing; unconditional,
Yet more often than seldom,
I miss the taste of my freedom,
So if there is a horizon beyond my sight,
And if this air is a part of my might,
Then I miss that never flown flight..
Yeah! I miss my never flown flight..
A list of few million don’ts,
Is the constitution of my Liberty,
To show me the path, Sun keeps burning,
While the Earth chains me with its gravity,
So with everyday’s Sunset, I bury my hopes;
And for an unborn dawn, I succumb to this night,
How I miss that never flown flight..
Yeah! I miss my never flown flight..
Of this future; unpredictable,
I find this battle; Irresistible,
Mercy may plead for forgiveness,
Any victory is all but delusional,
So I give away the armor of the knight,
And I surrender myself, to continue my fight,
I miss that never flown flight..
Yeah! I miss my never flown flight..
So sing me the song of Conditional Freedom,
And hoist the flag of Reign of Captivity,
I raise a toast to this Bounded Liberty,
And let the ghosts of bondage paint my fright,
Because I’m living for the day; this horror,
A revolution in me, it manages to Ignite
Till then I miss that never flown flight..
Yeah! I miss my never flown flight..
Copyright © Deepak Ahuja | Year Posted 2012
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Deepak Ahuja Poem
Days come and days go,
Like a pendulum’s to and fro,
But night’s stay with me awake,
As if a world is in the make,
Only one thought holds on to my mind,
As a species does to one of its kind,
The child I saw in the corner of the street,
Though not a home to him, but a retreat,
The road has relinquished him of food,
But has taught him to fight his hunger,
The open sky has gifted him the coldest of nights,
But has taught him to fly high in the dreamy air,
The sickness was visible in those deep black eyes,
But they were all decorated with the aspirations,
He was though fighting for his necessities,
But was having all the energy required for his illumination,
The moment those black eyes fell into mine,
There was a question for me, and for the divine,
Why the one having all the opportunities fail to achieve,
While the one who can achieve is not opportune,
May be the destiny is answering this to us,
As this brings the status quo to an equilibrium,
As there is no one who gets everything,
And there is no one who gets nothing, but some.
Copyright © Deepak Ahuja | Year Posted 2012
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Deepak Ahuja Poem
Cruel Sun, heating up the matter,
The ray blades burning up the skin,
But something was holding me strong,
Some Shelter, I was feeling home within,
Flowers abloom, or at least in words,
For rest of the world was a desert,
This was the summer of my love story,
This was the summer that felt like a blizzard,
Marking its presence, the stage of this play,
Shining its name, was the bus’ bay,
And how I wished her bus never came,
Because close to me, that can make her stay,
But more it made me calm, it psyched her,
Restless of Sun, and of wait, we talked,
Though I was destined for someplace else,
Where we’re together, towards that path I walked,
Her eyes, her words, were working on the spell,
I lost myself in her, and found her in me,
The romantic novels, and the love sonnets, once invisible,
Were now those distinct Colors, which I can see!
The Coffee Mugs, the window panes, and the morning dew,
Everything looked beautiful, like never before,
Those 45 days of warmth, wrapped by her arms,
I never knew it was the only love for me in the store,
The heat got mild with the darkening clouds,
This story was ending and so were her college days,
I was high, on this flight with her,
But it was time, for this heart to return to its base,
As good as she made me feel, with her presence
She had to pass, like a summer breeze,
I wish I could hold her in my arms; for a moment,
If for a moment; forever, I wanted that moment to freeze,
The sky cried with me, that night
Few drops of love, poured in by the rain,
For some time I believed to have caught those drops,
Less a mild feel of touch, these drops finally drain,
Copyright © Deepak Ahuja | Year Posted 2012
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Deepak Ahuja Poem
When it all began for me, the dream,
College; they said was fun,
Speech was a free bird, wild and country less,
But meaning was hard to be found, if not none.
Grab it all; fetch it if you can,
Everything was available, but again,
You’ll get it only if it’s in the script,
As they hold the rope to the curtain,
Shaping myself into one of them,
Ideating their stenciled design into action,
I got dragged on the path of slavery,
I burned my angel, for my devil’s resurrection,
The code executed, and brought me to next level,
I graduated from the collage Prom, into the conference room,
To travel to the day where the Sun watches me shine,
And to the world where flowers see me bloom,
But more I is out of the swamp of the monarchy,
Deepen I got stuck into this Corporate Sand,
Yes they are living here, laughing, if on the programmed jokes,
Yet the hunt is on, to survive in this Zombie land,
Beautiful, as it seemed on the horizon,
The man beneath the mask is playing yet another game,
The world is but just a cage, staged on purpose
Coz it’s the beast within me he is looking to tame.
Tortured till I fall, all I know is being numb
Dried off all the emotions, sentenced a barren life,
Even though the desire to live if I had any, died
There is something in me that did survive
It is the dream, untamed and unbound,
To fall deep in love, to let that pain make me cry,
To be awake and still live that dream,
And for this dream to live, I shall die
Copyright © Deepak Ahuja | Year Posted 2012
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Deepak Ahuja Poem
Feet, tired and bleeding,
Stopped to live, yet breathing,
My coordinates have long gone untraceable,
Strength shattered, but dreams stand unbreakable,
So where this Journey does takes me?
A part of mine, from which it separates me,
Less different from me, than similar,
I met people on the way, who felt familiar,
A different name for their God, but faith synonymous,
Winning the wars for their identity, still anonymous,
So long; this odyssey continues to unwind,
I hope to meet a God, with no religious tags to bind,
Amidst those seas, lies the Twilight;
Illuminates my arena for the next fight;
Explains this Path underneath; may not always be earth,
As to meet the horizon, travelling on the waves shall be worth,
Beyond this voyage, I wonder if I’ll see something through;
Lest this Ocean, if I’ll ever get lost in something blue;
A million miles in question, and yet an unanswered urge;
Where this mighty Ocean sinks, my desires continue to surge,
And when the water denies my thirst of its satisfaction,
I look for the Sun, to fire the desire in me for my resurrection,
The quest to wander, grows me wings to fly,
Just as I aspire to burn, even if a second Sun in the sky,
This endless crusade of insanity,
Is just a milestone of my vanity,
The nomad running away from his earlier versions,
Has travelled beyond universes, and across dimensions,
Determined by a cause, or a random event of desperation,
The intent, to move on, has set this Journey as my destination.
Copyright © Deepak Ahuja | Year Posted 2012
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Deepak Ahuja Poem
Warmth contained in the liquidity,
Breaking out of its vessel and bleed,
Painted with the Red of Life,
The Yang breathing inside this Yin,
Is but the child born due to this Fire,
Even salvation is satanic, for it is a desire.
Inhaling every negation as its Oxygen,
Setting this materialist soul on the flames,
Efforts to redeem the sins buried in sands,
Or one may call it by other fancy names,
But the tag hides an evil body in Sagacious attire,
Even salvation is satanic, for it is a desire.
To be demanding is a curse, with bounds,
As limited is the seed for incepting dreams,
Then to give away your desires to fulfill others;
Is like angels lending hands to devils; or as it seems,
One dream turned into reality; mentors another to aspire,
Even salvation is satanic, for it is a desire.
So rather let this human feel this earthly quest,
And on urges, let this mortal monster be fed,
In contrast of dualities; lies the meaning of good,
And without a demon, what good a good is instead?
The path of destruction is thus what I admire,
As even salvation is satanic, for it is a desire.
Copyright © Deepak Ahuja | Year Posted 2012
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Deepak Ahuja Poem
As the day has grown old to its age,
The night is abloom with youth and beauty,
We came closer and entwined to one,
But then destiny came amidst,
Success invoked my man’s ego,
And glory bonded you with aspirations,
Our ways separated, dreams shattered,
No one was to be blamed, but the situation,
I ignored sagacious friends,
I was running away from salvation,
Undoing the thought of the wad which was missing,
I continued to my voyage without defining the destination,
I won the battle but then realized,
I was on my own to share that surprise,
As for which I gave my whole life,
It was actually a fool’s paradise,
It cost my life’s biggest treasure,
For it cost me her indeed,
Yes! Now I meant something to the world,
But meaning of life without her was incomplete.
Copyright © Deepak Ahuja | Year Posted 2012
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