Releasing My Ambigram

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Today I learnt something, That of all that the wise men say, Of the reality they talk about, The hard work they inspire you to do, The courage they want you to show, The heights they want you to scale, The traits they want you to drop, The habits they wish you to keep, The attitude they want you to let go off, The cool and casualness they caution you about, The principles of life that the lay down... I strived to achieve all... I accustomed to the reality... I worked hard and made my sacrifices... I showed the courage... I drained myself to achieve new heights... I subdued my wild side to be wise... I learnt the hardest of the habits... I let go of my cool attitude... I learnt to be careful and responsible... I tried to achieve and imbibe those hard principles in my life... Yet on my way to be a wise man... All that cool things I subdued... Born different, I merged and became a commoner... The sacrifices i made... Of letting go o...
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A dream that woke me

Of those many things in life that are better read than heard this probably is one. I've no idea why I want to write this out, yet I have an urge to place it here... For I person like me who rarely catches a good sleep, a dream is a distant talk. Though it is a clinical condition, I'm happy that I don't suffer from the same. Continuing with my tale, a few days back I had a very casual dream about my friends, meeting for a very nobel and innocent cause. Yet its flow of events reflected me something that I couldn't ever comprehend..!! So I pondered over it and felt that I either I wasn't true to my self or what..??, so I thought it is best to put forward this story ask my friends what to do... The dream... It goes as, that me and my my friends namely Vishal, Ishtiyak, Nupur, Ruchika, Ahmed meet at the venue of a big social event(no idea of what, when, where and why, though scheduled for the eve.), solely for discussing a few doubts in physics(forthcoming exam) and to e...
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Friends Of Autumn

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Friends Of autumn are not for all,     they bare upon those in pall. To be a tree or leaf,     a question asked I can't believe. Shall I smirk by the edge,     or voice along in their pledge. The wind has me swept,     to a place where friends have wept. Hope I remember my friends long,     wishing to write a song. Should I let them strike a pose,     or how about a rhyming pose. So I will write about the best,     not to forget the rest. I'll start with Mr. Stratch,     notorious right from hatch. He is the artist of the master stroke,     with a nose free to poke. I shall never know what he seeks?,     in his depths or at peaks? Then there is Mr. Right,     always stammered with fright. He has the prowess to duel all,     but Oh! god, he is always the one to fall. Willing I'm to see ...
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