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Deepankar Raina

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Deepankar Raina

So when you are,
Choosing what you,
Don't see,
But know who you are,
Not just in words,
But with every breath,
So far,
You desire,
The right order of things,
Even when others had to find,
Comfort in the wrongs,
You'll feel compelled,
Like those choices,
Are where you belong,
And they are who you are,

You become your own karma,
Like the flesh and blood,
You move about with,
You'd become the very thing,
You've been running from,

The very reason,
You said the last morning,
Let's wake to see these through again one last time,
Before you drift towards the certain death,
And not even move a single fibre of your flesh,

With a purpose,
To do something,
For yourself,
But just to be in the same space,
As your loved ones would be the next day,
For a start!

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Deepankar Raina

You sleep,
And wake,
Up,
With the cruise,
Of those thoughts,
That you wish to be your bedrock.
And also your home,
They are what,
You are,
And you are them,
Not just simple thoughts,
Like an animal,
Struggling,
For food.

But like the desire of your unconscious self,
To live after each breath ends,
Even after all the pain that you took,
After each insurmountable hurt,
After each sentence,
That made sure you felt like the most disgusting one,
Like everyone's moving,
And you are at rest,

After each moment,
You thought that would last,
But passed away like,
The moment didn't care,
What or who you are.

You are,
On the ship that's sailing,
Over the sea of your own crushed up curses,
And disgust,
That you felt when you said some words,

And,
Even then,
You breathe,
The next breath,

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Deepankar Raina

When your choice is,
What you feel compelled for,

Does that make you weak?
Or owning to yourself,
And base instincts,
Makes you better?
By far!

When the choices that you make,
Are the ones,
Which you were compelled to make,
But not by others
Or someone else,
But by your own self,

After you know,
Who you want to be,
Not in the sense of being a millionaire,
Or a billionaire,
But in the sense,
That your thoughts are as exact as your breath,

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Deepankar Raina

Stop!
Becoming nothing?
When you are nothing,
But a husk kept for breaths,
As the body drifts,
Slowly because the body too has a mind!
Or rather reason being you are the body and mind!
Along with the intangible,
Samples of all that is divine!
Sleep off till the next time you like to smile!
A reason to live,
Or,
The meaning of life!

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Deepankar Raina

As if,
Almost touching all that is divine,
Even when every meaning is a lie,
And the reason if use is to,
Keep living for the coming times,
We make use of words
But still struggle,
As the time goes by,
When there is nothing to rhyme,
And nothing at to be done,
With any of our plight,
Even at height of our flights,
We knew of nothing but the said words,
Of the saints,
Or the scriptures,
Of religions or science!

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Deepankar Raina

Here we are again,
Thinking of what does this mean?
What was that breath?
How did I reach this exact set?
Well, you know the reasons,
But the meaning is what you search for,
Like meaning was not made up in your mind,
Like meaning is inherently a truth,
In all that we see as life,

Well embarrassed,
We walk,
In line,
Because they all want these lies!
Who are we if not,
One of the many towards a certain demise,
But, if only we knew the meaning of life,
Won't that be a glimpse of the ultimate,
And of all that is sublime.

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Deepankar Raina

Why? Do you ask about,
What could have happened,
After you have survived?
Do, you want to,
Blame your discomfort,
On someone?
Is being grateful unaccepted?
But being ungrateful is?
Is that the "normal"?
Because you are the one who survived,
And "you" got hurt,
But none of that,
Would have mattered,
No plea would have been heard,
If you,
Just didn't,
Survive by the end,
Now you focus on the blame,
You want to shift,
The cause of worry,
From you,
To not be you,
That almost didn't exist,
Someone who can still feel the grips,
Of the end!
So, you want to be,
Someone who feels,
The reality as she is.

Like the fake,
Accent you conjure,
Not to make sure others understand,
But to fit in,
So no one thinks,
You do not understand.

So, if you don't mean to be grateful,
All good!
But,
Don't play the blame game,
And hate,
Someone you shouldn't! #paidstory

paidstory

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Deepankar Raina

Why did you look?
Was the truth,
Not enough,
Or is this about friends
And family,
Who are always good!
So, I leave with whistles,
The nighttime crew!

You exist as you should,
And nothing is good,
Or bad
Even when,
Things just have to always be good,
But they are,
As they should,
True to their nature,
As souls,
Of the departed,
Or the ones who live,
Without thinking,
Even when they should!
Bless you!

Nothing I do is good enough,
So, singing your lines,
From the rhythms,
You have heard from my hands,
Born of heart,
And no real calculation on my part! #paidstory

paidstory

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Deepankar Raina

I take your words lightly and I am wrong,
When I take them at face value,
I almost die,

Everything I might want to do is a lie,
Exactly why do you cry?

The only truth is what you know,
The only breath is what you took,
Then why do I exist?
Then why did my leg even shook?

If there is nothing I can ever do,
Why should I even shout out?
Why should I even smell,
Eat, listen, watch, breathe,
Anything other than,
What you might consider is mine?

Do I always comply?
Or should I be a bit rebellious,
A crook,
Or a cook?
In stoic mood,
Cause the world is a blessing of your roots
And I am a rootless bush!
As chaos always should! #paidstory

paidstory

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Deepankar Raina

Wake up to a special flow,
A thing of the past yet so close,
See to your functions,
Bodily or otherwise,

Sleep a bit more,
And wake up to the falling strikes!

Of water pour down from the heaven,
As night approaches
With the golden skies,

Yes yellow, you presume!

But nothing out of ordinary,
A special dream,
When no one but you are there to pry!

A bit of an optically function and camera zoom should be applied,
The light you see can be altered,
As light often does,
Even without the notions of you or I,

See something true to how in physics they'd like to call a law,
Absolute, but the changes appear when you,
See the rhythm up close,
Cause well we live on a sphere,
But then you may see mountain spears up,
In the periphery of your eye,

And people don't see enough,
So things just appear,
Flat too to some eyes,
But as said,
Sun may be golden today,
But has always been white,
You either live by the rules,
Of the natural rhythm as the day goes by,

Or stay agitated because,
You know the golden sun bleeds rainwater all fucking time! #paidstory

paidstory

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