Confining  oddly  in the wheel of fate and fortune

It is all thirsty

and all the universe,  is like a desert

Human, who is kind enough, to offer hither to, a pinch of water ,

has distanced himself, to far off lands.

Not even single tree, which can protect us with all its wider shade,

is not visible  at all till the stretch of  far end corners.

Though the flowers lost their natural scents

and human got rid of the delicateness.

The world formats a doll, with no rhyme or rhythm.

The world sans all dreams

and languages,

moves about all around,  in our active presence.

Human, waits for something unknown and inexplicable.

Life is a volume of poetry, penned for world’s well being.

It will transform itself, as a prophecy, without any significance

and will be concealed firmly in the pages of  book of desires.

To fling strings on Veena, is to extol melodious notes,

in a finely tuned version only .

Human’s life is there to allow flows  in  streams of nectar tickles

filled to the brim with all powerful musical notes to spread onto, all over the earth  .

By birth a human is lover of freedom and liberty.

As long as he moves about, vigorously in this world

Human’s life becomes a hard worded, complex and long sentence

and turns out as a formless , hard rock.

yesterday the person who lectured on the platform,

 in a high tone ,like a thunderous sea

 today, departed well before the arrival of the bright sheen of the dawn.

The refiner who  anxiously wished to glance at the twilight columns of the beautiful modern times, in the deep depths of space and also desired to bloom, in  fragrant flowers of affectionate bonds in fraternity links , is broken into pieces,

Confining oddly,  in the wheel of fate and fortune

and saluted raising up,  both  his hands