Today morning, when I was cleaning my book-shelf a.k.a. The Divine Den Of Doom (3D), a crumpled piece of paper dropped on the floor. I opened my nuclear-radiation-protection gloves and picked it up. It was a poem scribbled with a blunt pencil on a piece of paper which was otherwise filled with mathematical rough calculations. I wish I had a scanner so that I could have shared it with you. Nevertheless, I’ll write down whatever I had written.

When I was writing this poem, the initial intention was to expel my anger and frustration of the pressure of studying. Look how I challenge God. And note how it ends.

Prelude: Winter Vacations – Was (supposed to be) studying – early morning – felt extremely frustrated- exhausted of the pressure – had to vent my feelings – scribbled a poem.

Once on a drowsy winter morning,

On my bed, I lay awake.

Looking at the ceiling, blinking and yawning,

I wondered if God was all but fake.

I’d like to write a painful song

Sitting below a green tree

Speak about all that has gone wrong

Imprisoned emotions set free

I won’t use any hard words

Will keep it simple and sweet

Gaze blankly at the little birds

Which venture near my bare feet

Look at the vast empty blue sky

And picture her pretty face

Just as the precious moments pass by

I’ll scribble in my diary at a slow pace

 One of my novice attempts at poetry. Hope I can send through an important message.
















Love is but a weakness

Trust is waging war

She may just be a tigress

Or a shining night star

An aura in the sky

In graceful silence

Whispers drift by

Of her mystic presence