This materialistic world was mere illusion when we held our hands. I know you aren’t the one  you used to be and nor I’m. Is it the time who played the villain or the fate who showed no mercy?

But still something of that time is  buried deep inside you and me,gleaming somewhere counting its last beats…

 you might have forgot all those things…But some people, unfortunately aren’t made to move on…….

 Me and you both are lost in this muddle of time, to keep the clock of life ticking and letting it to reign us…..



What if the characters in the book know that they are only the fictional characters who never exist and what happen to them is sheer fiction,and what would happen when there would be an urge, desire in them to sprout out in the real world.??

The philosopher.

‘Do you believe in God?’ He asked softly.

She surprised by the question but she had to answer, perhaps in better way.

She looked at the horizon, sighed then turned to him and said 

‘I don’t know, she paused.

‘But I know that he believes in me that’s why he has given me this beautiful life! He could have chosen someone else, so I am not going to betray him by doing something nonsense to my life anway’

 He looked at her, completely startled by her answer and that day he found shrewd  philosopher in his wife.

whom to love.

whom to love,

to the one who loved you,

or to one who mocked.

thought they had been lied

love all them as a blind.

spread love as a holy fragrance,

in every dark corner here.

even evil would embrace,

with remorse full of tear.

malice for none and love for all,

not the bleeding grudge,

and with not any retaliation

which cause humanity to fall.

someone has been counting,

how munificent, generous you are,

yes, the invulnerable one,

who breath in your heart, nowhere far.






He was waiting for train on the platform wreathed with people who were
desperately seeking train for home. Alike all of them, he too was
exhausted and iota of energy which was left that too drained by glancing
repeatedly at the speculating digital display. backpack which was lighter in the
morning now felt heavy, like an overkill shackle around arms.                                                               He saw a girl, it was sheer fortuitous glimpse. How one could be so that lively    after the hectic day? He thought at her agility. Her face reflecting her vivaciousness, graceful and alleviating like the moon. Her hairs black and layered not in extravagant way but simply manageable. He couldn’t see her eyes but somewhat predictable, they
must have been gleaming too. Her friend beside, was chubby girl, black spectacle
tucked on the nose and she was involuntarily pushing it back by her pointer finger
with repeated and perhaps after the same time interval. She never know that she
had been the victim of contrast bias by standing next to her friend. Why on the
earth every beautiful girl has spying chubby girl with her who acts like her
bodyguard and looks every guy wryly.  Anyway, he glanced at her again, and the
cacophony around him faded slowly. Her face was magic, he was completely
mesmerized and about to drown in the world of imagination. What if it were a
typical bollywood movie he thought. Her dupatta would have wafted in the air and
landed on his head and then slowly uncovering his overacting face. The rain would
have fallen in a mist. The people around would have had transitory time travel,
leaving them alone at the platform. He would have smiled at her and she would
have tried and failed to shy in an orthodox way. However, The train bustling by
pulled him out of the trance. Clanked utterly, faded slowly and finally swallowed
by the horizon. He looked at it blankly.
‘Would you tell us where is the platform number nine?’ The soft voice said from
behind. Shivers pricked on his neck, the voice was soft and reassuring. He turned
back and saw her, she was more vivid now, yes the metaphor moon, the spotless
moon was correct, god’s immaculate creation. the chubby girl beside her staring
at him almost with scorn.

‘Why— I mean why not’…… he stammered a bit and replied.
Follow me. He said and walked ahead of them, both of them followed him
involuntarily. None of them spoke, he could only hear footsteps from behind,
somewhat rhythmic. one was fierce must have been chubby girls and other soft
almost inaudible.

‘Whats your name?’ asked chubby girl, tone like investigating
cop. He looked back over his shoulder.

‘Ravi’ he said and managed a smile.

The look that neither so flamboyant and not so dull. But his smile prevailed and made
its impression. ‘Why does platform number nine is obscure?’ now she( the moon)
said. ‘ it used to be a crowded one, don’t know why, trains seldom come here.
May be just two or three a day’. ‘Okay she said’. Chubby girl was expressionless on
their conversation. ‘So you both never came here before?’

‘the first time and perhaps the last one’. Chubby girl said abruptly.

And the train arrived, rattling a bit,slowing down and finally stopped with hiss. Both of them climbed into it and he stood there again deep into thoughts.
He was about to leave but mellifluous voice stopped him.

‘Thank you Ravi’ she said.
With smile and he smiled too. And she boarded on the train again and eventually
train accelerated slowly and then disappeared.

Life is a fiction, and we are the characters who are driven by the circumstances. God has assigned us a set of people and our life hovers around them. But some strangers with their transitory advent marks an eternal inscription on our life.

Ravi finally slept in rhythmic rattling of the train. Platform no 9 was his last conscious thought.

to be continued……………………..



When your emotions bleed by stabs,

Someone leaves you with deep sobs.

When wiping tears become meaningless,

Then it is better to be a heartless.

Wisp of solemn in qualmy love,

Those false vows to lonely dove.

When the promises become tactless,

Then it is better to be a heartless.

In twilight of love and hate,

That heaved thou in eerie fate.

And when faith seems worthless,

Then it is better to be a heartless.

When things goes against you,

Only you need is light to go through.

To break the shackles,

And to be relentless

You have to be a heartless.

Suraj Kadam

Missing Marbles. (reviving the childhood)

Striding little tyke with pocket full of candies,

Chasing the ventures with friendly taunting.

Kingdom of sands and the wooden swords,

 The Furious rides with dulcet chords.

Falling and tripping was a bit limper,

Though thee smiled with adorable dimple.

The little rifts that never bruised loyalty,

The friends we got by complete serendipity.

Usurped marbles were secret treasure,

And scribbling pencils were true pleasure.

The shade of oak was tranquil piece,

Dangling on it made fantastic beasts.

Memories are floating in vehement ode,

   reviving them from immortal lode.