The Grosvenor Experiment 3

Our Story. Our Words. We write We edit.

Our Cards. Our Chips. We raise, We fold.

Our Life. Our Time. One day at a time!

The curse of a warrior...

Moral integrity is on a defence 

When a saint is in a battleground 

Krishna suggests to follow the duty

And that was the birth of philosophy

With no quivers or armours you'll be alone

Learn the art to turn an arrow into a flower

For a bud blossoms with myriad colours 

Sapping into the juices of the mother earth

No conch Shell, no ammunition or cover

When the conscience attacks your soul

Just remember a response is more resilient 

When the bullet of words are etched in a promise

There is no war when the skin is reversed

The mirror holds the truth for every single breath

The fight is between the 'I' and the 'me'

Tossing between the saint and the warrior.

Dreams

Had I the heaven's gilded clock,
Enwrought with the past, future and the present,
The dusk and the dawn and the nature's scent
Of gods and demigods and the devil's age,
I would spread the clocks under your feet;
But I, being poor, have only my time
I have spread my hours under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my time...

Due apologies to Mr Yeats - I borrowed your rhythm. For they say that imitation is the best form of flattery.