जर पावसाच्या थेंबांनी स्वतःला विचारलं की इतक्या उंचावरून पडण्यासाठीच जन्म घेतला का आम्ही, तर त्यांना वाऱ्यांमधून – मातीमधून – वनस्पतींमध्ये - झऱ्यातून - नदीतून – प्राण्यांमधून – सागरामधून जगायची मजा मिळणार नाही.

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I don't worship you
Maybe you are humane
Most in your generation
Made me more sane

It is unjust of me
To ask more years
Not just from sweat
But from all your tears

For those who made it
Jealousy is high today
From those who didn't
Suckers on the D-day

Red ball is exhausting
But please honour us
With at least one match
Despite all our callous

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Is that a royal fragile heart?
That's definitely not a trophy!
Thank God, there's no cart
Where things smell like coffee

Oh, I see a dumbbell as well
Saying it misses its partner
Food present without fail
Wishing to meet its maker

Didn't expect books as antiques
Proud and with a flirting nature
Playing ball are the mistiques
Gods creating a kind creature

Imagination being the currency
I was afraid and proud to be lost
Even if there was no vacancy
Tell me, isn't it worth the cost?

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Windows in my defenses
Shadowing the stardom
Values in my finances
At ease in the boredom

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Long weekend past
Resembles work week
Does your wonder last?
If this is what we seek

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Flower said to the butterfly
Ordinary and not fragrant,
Is that your jibe?
The response came so sly
Your alive nectar vibrant
Thought we could vibe

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She was chained in her world
I was liberated from mine
Her keeping herself from me for me
Built me a home on cloud nine

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येऊ नकोस आता
गुंत्याची गाठ कळली
रडवू नकोस आता
सांत्वनाची वेळ संपली

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Learnt to read again at night
Sly notions sleep on a cot in April

Conflict is invisible and tears so dry
So many silences I fought in April

People cry, I die and rhyme again
Stargazing this world a lot in April

My Lord is giddy and cautious
So many friends I forgot in April

You resist the poem, O love
Shall we tie the knot in April?

Why do you fight your work, Omkar?
Empathy is not just a thought in April

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Freedom is there
Where blue ticks are not
Why do I care
I am immune, am I not?

Anonymity protects those
Who do it for the readers
Not a curated daily dose
Just the boredom and the doers

Saturation has hit us
We can't overlook
To be born again from us
Here we dare to cook

Those forms and shapes
Which we mould together
From the art, the artist escapes
Audience engulfs the weather

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