Inner Voice


Besides thorns, learn to smile,
To thorns don’t criticise.
Flowers over the thorns bloom,
Say to all don’t gloom,
Thorn is gloomy, flower is a boom,
If thorn is goon, flower is still a boom,
Always smile morning or afternoon.
Amidst thorns, flowers grow and shine,
This is a blessing in disguise,
Hate the sin, but not the sinner,
If you lose nothing, you are a winner.
Thorns earn hate, when to
somebody they prick
Beside thorns we grow, is the trade trick,
Flowers say with thorns you must click,
Whether they click or do not click,
Wonderful association, you all will have is a trade trick.
Why there are thorns,?
In that case from success,
there is digression,
Say no to aggression and
yes to progression,
Follow this Principle and
don’t suffer any retrogression,
Smiles you multiply,
Towards the sky all will fly,
Follow this, if not at least try,
Spread happiness and do not feel shy,
And all the times, don’t cry,
Say to solve the problem, I will try,
You are human being that’s why?

Col Parmjit (Retd)
Sainik Colony


I wish I had a little sis
Cute and charming
She would crawl
And I would cheer
I wish I had a little sis
Wise and wonderful
With whom I could play
With whom I could learn..
I wish I had a little Sis
Like a beautiful barbie
With whom I could gossip
With whom I could read..
I wish I had a little sis
Nice and honest
To whom I could tease
To whom I could bully…
I wish I had a little sis..

Adhvi Sharma
APS Jammu Cantt


Loneliness…Isn’t so lonely,
It has much more, yet to be discovered.
many my definitions of it.
Sometimes dearest to me,
other day ruining me inside.
A bridge it has formed,
swinging me to and fro.
Normal is just an illusion.
What spider smiles over,
seems chaos for the fly.
It has much more to offer.
I have never been so lonely,
sadness keeps me alive.
I am lost…now i don’t want to be found.
I knew exactly, how it feels to be left dying.
All i can see now, is a deaf
crowd passing by.
I have felt suicidal…
Dilemma of living or dying,
entangles me so often.
Something kills me inside so brutally.
I hid beneath the underlying world, seeking refuge in my words.
Unbearable pain of mine… gets diluted,
when mixed with the ink.
What seems terrible to
them… soothes me.
Poetry my only refuge.
Very often i crawl back,
into my world of madness.
Curling my back to the so
called… loneliness.
I am alone, not so lonely.
Percieve it right…
For God’s sake, don’t ruin my choice.

Sona Khajuria