I Wish !!!

When I was six, I was always in a fix

I wanted to be a guitarist like Jimmy Hendrix

When I became seven, I recognized my argumentative fire

So I though why not one day should I become a lawyer

Then I moved on as I crossed the eighth pedestal

I decided that I am too tired of boring jobs so I will write a gospel

But soon at nine I was too French to take up a book

So I realized that it was my destiny to become a famous cook

But the gravy dried as soon as I went into double digits

I raced down the road as my watch counted the minutes

But too fast and too soon, I lost my zest to run

At eleven, I thought I would be the perfect soldier with a gun

Then came year twelve, books took over once again

I should be a doctor, I thought, saving men from their pain

Year thirteen was the most surprising year of my short life

I thought enough is enough lets be a sage fighting it out as a strife

As teenage deepened with year fourteen

All I could dream of was lights camera action and the wide screen

With fifteen years on my back

I decided to live an adventure roaming around with a backpack

Now the years moved fast,

Dreams became rare and looked ephemeral to last

As I became eligible to drive a car

All I could think of was a clear road to a land too far

By the time I entered college, I was destined to be an engineer

Though my fickle minded heart still believed that one day I would be a musketeer

As I graduated in the spring of two thousand eight

My heart was heavy with an unknown weight

Today I am confused, about what I will become one day

A manager, its all so obvious most say

But somewhere inside the little boy whispers to me

You can do whatever you like and do whatever as long as your mind is free

The Painted Horse !!!

Life is a quest for perfection for most of the men

The race ad infinitum with no sign of the end

Perfection is often the misnomer for success

But only the determined win under duress

The painted horse is always looked down upon

They are never meant to be as they don’t have the brawn

I ask the world today, one doubt I have

Does fortune favor the well bred or the brave?

The race to success is not about the pedigree one belongs to

Its about the will to survive no matter what distance we have to do

According to legend, the dark horses are always the one who win

No matter how hard the pedigree in competition is to pin

I add more spice to the curry of sweet victory

It’s the will of the mind which defines absolute pedigree

Not the history of your success or the aquiline nature of your ancestry

So lets break the shackles and run free to claim our victory

The Wind Beneath my Wings !!!

I was standing on the edge of the cliff
With my face towards the valley, but my wings were still stiff
I did not know what to do and when to dive
I wasn’t so sure if at all I will survive

My inner voices were all quite mum
I was not able to judge and my thoughts were numb
Pebbles below my feet were slipping away
It was like god has decided to send me into the fray

Just then a moment flashed beyond my eyes
I saw an eagle spreading its wings in the azure skies
His each turn had an amazing grace
Yet he was fast as if flying in a race

I do not know what happened just then to me
The wind below my wings suddenly became free
I dived into the miles below the cliff
No longer was I shackled, nor were my wings stiff

I took turns, summersaults, rolled along the depths beneath
Then my wings took control and I rose with the valleys and cliffs underneath
I did not believe that I could fly
But then I would have never had I not given it the much needed try

Ladies and Gentlemen, You are free

I was standing on the dais, waiting to flee
I was the host being anything else but me
Then I realized, it was time for the announcement
And I said Ladies and Gentlemen, You are free

It was not an announcement of a parole from jail
It was not a warning of the unavoidable rain or hail
I was just mentioning article 21 of the constitution
But some faces still became red from pale

Life can be sometimes a golden cage
Life can look rosy still be full of rage
We are the writers of our story
Yet someone else is always turning the page

How do we lose control of our own lives?
How do miss the living part walking on knives
By the time we realize where we wanted to go and where we went
We are already in the ocean where we weren’t supposed to dive

I just did my humble duty of the day
Was there anything wrong in what I say?
Ladies and Gentlemen, you are free
Lets live our lives and make our day