Words become worlds.

The joy of little things,
From the sound of the bat to hearing the birds sing
You never know what life brings.

Life’s too short to complain.
From unnecessary sorrows, you must refrain.

It is those tiny tiny moments
As primitive as watching a comet.
That fits your heart with bliss.
And that is what is the joy of little things.

I have cherished these things
Since the day I took these lens.
Each time I pick it up,
My entire vision changes.

I discovered how much joy these things have,
Just taking a good look is all the crave.
The joy that the perfect photo gives,
It can’t be explored through words.

From a small chirp that changes the mood,
To what makes us feel good.
Oh! Remember it all going through my ears,
That left me with nothing but happy tears.

These small things are what difference
To what we have and will do hence.

There are a number of things,
Which are a source of joy.
But what excites me,
Makes me a jolly boy.

Watching my favorite batsman bat
To listening to my favorite band,
Playing cricket with that brand’s bat
To playing keyboard with my favorite music band.

Discovering the world of pi,
To eating my favorite pie.
Reading atom structures by Bohr,
But these never get me bored.

Watching movies with an intellect,
Until my mind gets to recollect.
Grinding series late at night,
Until my schedule kicks me tight.

One late noon, it was cloud’s day,
The sky dark and the feeling gay.
Few soldiers fight in the battlefield,
While the king plays with no guilt.

I look at them and tell my lads,
“You are living your lives”.
Wish we’d be out of this mess,
To relive these times with complete bliss.

On a nearby puddle they play,
With their rides and swords they prey.
Slaying weach other and their guards,
And splashing the elixir on our lords.

The battle continues with screams
But for us, slaves, we only live with dreams.
The joy of these little things that we see at night
Are what we wish to attain with all our might.

As I take a stroll down the streets,
Tiny pearls of water greet.
A sound surrounded, not upbeat,
But a melodious and euphonious tweet.

They gather softly on my sleeve
Like secrets the drizzle chose to leave
Magically, the day feels light
The ripples gather below gently but with might.

No glory, no big claim
No sun, no blazing flame.
The chaos inside me drowned
By the king but uncrowned.

Nature roars beyond my sight
Covered by this subtle delight
But in a drop that kissed my hand,
I found more delight than he had ever planned

Waking up hours after the alarm rang,
taking a sip of coffee, staring at the sun.
Sharing food and laughing too,
spending hours making slime with glue.
Joy moves steady, not in a rush,
teaching hearts with the softest touch.
We spend our days running around,
while joy stays quiet, waiting to be found.
It whispers like a gentle song,
“I’ve been here all along.”
We rush through moments way too fast,
then wonder why happiness feels like the past.

From the brightly shining star,
To the crescent moon in the sky,
I feel alive in every way,
Lightening my heart a little more.
The soothing sound of the shores,
And the sun beaming with joy,
Something special waits for me,
Concealed in the little pleasures of my life.
During these peaceful times, I find myself
Noticing the most pleasant things around,
Finding joy in every moment I spend,
With calm and tranquility in my emotions.

In drops of sunlight, joy waits.
In bright, rapid laughter,
On chilly mornings, in hot tea,
early in the morning in birds.

It resides under shared umbrellas.
Little moments, gently shining, in books, puddles, and the breeze
That gave heart comfort.

It lurks in subdued kindness,
In the notes we leave behind,
In soft words and borrowed smiles,
And we're hoping for peace.

When stars blink before bed,
Dreams are just beginning.
Little daily things bring joy.
That gently fills the heart.

It all lies in the joy of little things,
The quiet moments,
And the ones we almost miss.

It's found in the shared smiles
And the inside jokes.
In the back of school notes
And in the first note of a familiar song.

It's all about the shared laughs in class,
And the late nights in dorm,
It's in the comforting turn that signals the road home.

These things aren't loud and don't ask for attention
They simply remain,
Reminding us that we the joy in these moments,
Are enough.

Joy lives in little moments,
With friends I see each day,
In sitting next to classmates
And talking on the way.

It’s sharing books and lending pens,
Helping when we can,
Laughing softly in the class,
And trying to understand.

These small things make school feel nice,
They help me feel okay,
Because joy is in the little things
That happens every day.

One time I was 7,
Half a rupee candy,
Made me feel like heaven,
Hit me like a melody.

Or the time i was 10,
When I had my best friend,
With no evil, no pretend,
Forever conversations, he was a godsend.

13 was the time,
Teen talks, teen vibe,
Back of the bus, where it belongs,
We played and sang the most beautiful songs.

Life hit hard and hard it hit me,
Rejection, betrayal, cheating with no mercy,
the cake wasn't great, but the icing,
Friends, family, you kept me going.

There’s beauty in the sky
And in worlds gone by
In the vast, indelible ocean
In all its mystic motion

But those things rarely satisfy
The thirst in those eyes
That only sparkle and shine
At everything between the lines

At the steam from a morn’s cup,
Waking the weary soul up,
A silver thread in a weathered coat,
A lingering song from a distant throat,

Oh incomparable is the beauty
Hidden under the glamour of “pretty”

Rain drumming on the dorm roof at night,
Midnight chai snuck from the mess, shared quiet.
Nailing that math quiz, mates cheering low,
Fist-bumps under the study lamp's glow.

Warden's rare smile, "Lights out soon,"
Group study hacks, laughing through the grind.
Dawn fog on the field, first bell's ring—
These small hostel wins? They keep me alive.

Sneaky card games post-lights out,
Whispers and giggles till someone snores.
Package from home—crisps and a note,
Tastes like freedom behind closed doors.

Sunday night roll call skipped in bed,
Foggy field walks, breath fogging the air.
Stars peeking through the hostel window,
Little lights proving everything's alright

The joy of little things
is not waking up happy every day,
but finding small reasons to smile anyway.

Like getting an extra chocolate at the bottom of the bag,
or when your favorite song plays
right when you needed it.

It’s laughing over dumb jokes
that don’t even make sense later,
and sitting quietly with someone
enjoying the silence.

It’s the smell of rain,
the feeling when warm sunlight peeps in through the window,
and watching the same old movies
because it somehow feels comfortable.

We keep thinking joy has to be big,
like something special or planned,
but most of the time
it’s just hidden in simple moments.

And maybe that’s why it matters—
because the little things,
don’t try to impress you.
They just show up.

Daily I hope something big to happen
Something life changing, something memorable
Imagining the future in hopes of the better

But now I realize something better
That the small moments
The laughter with my loved ones
The angry, sad, scary moments

I hope for another moment
With friends who I may never meet again
And the people who helped me mature

So I keep in mind now
To cherish each and every moment
Not regret the past and obsess the future
But live in the present

Drenched wet and dancing in the rain,
Inside jokes we can never drain,
Packing our bags - “no homework we shout”
“No jogging” - our vanished pout

Endless UNO and monopoly games,
Gifts we smile at as we read names,
Blowing bubbles in the lemonade
Countless 11:11 wishes we made

A 400 page book finished in a day,
Midnight singing with friends,
Together we set the fabulous trends,
Sneaking around, broken vases,

As back benchers we always come last,
Sharing moments of past,
innocence , believing the tooth fairy,
And the memories we carry

Joy of little things I’ll never forget,
None of these moments I regret.

It feels like everything was yesterday
If we sit for a day,
And think of yesterday,
It cannot be covered in a day

All the fun I’ve had,
Because of my friends
All the scoldings I’ve had,
Because of my teachers

Those memories still cherished,
Deep in my heart as always.
Some echoes haunt others’ play,
Hope that they always stay

A bunch of thoughts, encircling my mind
Containing loud echoes of ideas, that I couldn’t find
From the echo of a bouncing basketball,
To the echo of a distant valley’s waterfall

The echoes of yesterday
Remind me of the tournament day.
Where the grief of our defeat,
Echoed through a hundred feet.

These echoes of yesterday are too heard to be forgotten,
But the hope is not to be disheartened
Because this can be
The echoes of tomorrow

As this can be the echo of tomorrow,
Not one of complete sorrow,
With this echo I shine bright
With my mind now ready to fight

The echoes of yesterday softly call,
Glimpses of moments rise and fall.
Weaving the threads of stories old,
When love was sung with hearts of gold.

The warmth that feels so far,
Like one of those distant stars.
Though times change and hearts mend,
Some bonds just never end.

In the echoes of our yesterday,
We find light in endless ways.
Now echoes fill the empty space,
Where once it was a happy place.

So let the years go, let them pass,
We’ll hold these moments like glass.
The love we’ve shared in many ways,
A love that time can never erase.

The wind still hums your half-sung tune,
Through trembling blinds and ghostlit noon.
Where silence hums like something torn,
And dreams grow old but never mourn

The mirror hums with faded light
Its glass still holds the edge of night
The face returns, then slips away -
A ghost that never learnt to stay

The clocks all choke on ticking grief,
Their hands like prayers without belief.
And every dusk, the shadows wane,
But whisper back your name again.

Now every night, I drift astray,
Through ruins where your echoes lay -
And though the dawn still finds my eyes,
I live where your tomorrow dies

The echoes of yesterday remind me
Of my mistakes that weren’t meant to be
They tell me I have failed, putting me in mystery.

Yet I cling to a brighter hope,
Were I can grow more and more
Yesterday’s failures tied to me as rope,
Tomorrow brings me a better hope

To live in the past is the greatest sin,
As one gets stuck in what could’ve been.
Forgetting about what you can be
Limitting yourself to what you can see.

As the days keep flying by,
I don’t stick to yesterday or cry.
Every second has a price to pay,
To live to the fullest every day.

When he closed his eyes, darkness spread,
In sorrow, his eyes wept and bled.
Regrets return, memories haunt,
Emotions flow but never forget to taunt

Mind ripped, heart torn apart,
Echoes do, really play a part.
Yesterday haunts puts him in the dread
Sinking in reality he was dead.

But these echoes don’t always torment,
They also possess emotions that we can never invent.
They may curse you and make you plead,
But they can also bless you and make you lead.

They comfort me, help me push,
I succeed and to it shall the world hush.
They help me triumph and hold my victory,
And with that I begin my own story.

The way echoes are, are dual,
They help you or they pull you to a duel.
But in the end, those are that shape us.
Those craft us and those build us.

Was it yesterday,
I realized,
I was born,
From the heavens without being torn?

Was it yesterday, I used to weep “Stomach Pain”
To bunk school, achieving no gain?
But I did go to school, angry and sad
But so did I return daily, as a happy lad

Was it yesterday, when we used to spend every moment
With family and friends at home
Now we do long for such moments,
In a home away from home

Well, what are these,
These are the echoes of Yesterday,
Which we long to hear,
Even today!!

Sometimes I remember things
From days that passed away.
Little moments come back to me
Sounds like the soft echoes of yesterday

I think about the fun I had,
The smiles and games we shared.
Those memories make me happy still,
Even as life puts me through ups and downs.

As I look towards what's ahead,
I keep those moments close and true.
The past may be gone, but never forgotten,
And the echoes of yesterday still ring in my ear.

As the lonely boy lies curled against the wall,
Hoping for a respite from the pain,
The thought that keeps him going, a light in the suffocating dark:
The freedom of turning a new page.

As the writer crumples the upteenth page of words,
Compelled to give through and escape the despair,
The thought that drives his pen across the page:
The fulfillment of turning a new page.

As the woman crosses the war-ravaged fields,
Reaching for the safety beyond the booming weapons of hell,
The thought that pushes her broken, bloodied legs:
The hope of turning a new page.

There comes a time in a child
where the pages of life flutter wild
from paths of pain and turns of disdain
from bouts of glory to moments engraved in memory
the constant cries of the sinners so incessant
plaguing the youth ever so effervescent
we are shrouded in the darkness of ignorance
owing to humanity’s unholy penance
the poisonous ego of the individual
and the cunning apathy of of our race
forms a viciousness so habitual
surmounts to battles a child has to face
alas! a doom may indeed be prophesized
but a cure lies in the depths of calamity
the depths reached through the purity of a child
which can rid us of our profanity
it’s up to the children of today
to turn to pages of tomorrow
turning a new page to humanity
rooted in values of child-like purity

I turned a page today
or something like it.
The corner folded clean,
no trace of what it held.
The words behave themselves now,
sit neatly in their lines.
No sudden slips of meaning,
no ink that runs too far.
Still, sometimes in the margin,
there’s pressure without a mark
as if a thought once rested there
and chose not to remain.
It’s nothing you could point to,
nothing you could prove.
Just how the paper softens
where it’s been held before.
I read it like it’s ordinary.
I let the sentences pass.
But something in the silence
lingers just a little longer.
I close the book or so I say,
But some pages don’t turn away.

Life, a tapestry of stories intertwined.
Some common yet some of a whole different kind.
A journal of pages, worn and torn.
The author, a child, from when they were born.

A tale that follows from cradle to grave.
Invincible, are those that end brave.
For trials will linger all along
And pull you away from where you strive to belong.

Yet fingers linger on pages once known
Tracing ink like it’s carved on stone.
But something within starts quietly to shift,
A tremor of change, a hesitant drift.
The ink of the past begins to release,
Its grip grows lighter, its echoes find peace.
The weight of “what was” no longer remains,
Just fragments of stories and softened refrains.
A silence appears—untouched, undefined,
No echoes behind, no script pre-designed.
And there, in the hush where nothing has stayed
You become the hand… and the unwritten blade.

Between the last word and the first,
a breath the universe holds long.
The self, unmade, unquenched by thirst,
becomes the silence before song.
What burned was not the whole of you,
only the name you wore too tight.
The page turns white the way dawn's dew
dissolves into arriving light.
Write nothing yet.
Just feel the blankness.
Even the ocean stills before it broke.
Some depths are born only from darkness
some flames rise only after smoke.

It’s that time of the year again,
Changing grades and starting new,
Arriving at the last stage of school,
The last dance conquered by a few.

Old leaves shed and new ones get a base
Everything changes in a way
Achievements take place in our case
As we grow to our maximum

The world changes a lot,
People might say its just a grade,
But the pressure of 12th is not easy,
The students stay afraid.

Turning a new page could be better,
For people looking for a new space,
As it brings them good luck
Like an angel on the heaven

Wounds, cuts, betrayal washed,
secrets, whispers, gossips hushed,
New year, new mind, a new start,
Focus and aim the dart,
Become one of a kind,
Patience to unwind,
No grudges to be held,
Broken bonds to mend,
Distractions out of the frame,
More dragons to tame,
Now a fresh slate,
No point whining it’s fate,
Sky high we must reach,
Throw out the blood sucking leech,
laughter, fun, memories and more,
With a happy sigh we arrive at shore.

Words that deliver so much to feel,
Through every moment I learnt to heal.
Pages and pages of stories made,
Written so that they wouldn’t fade.

Then, new words start to appear,
Crafting memories with ones who are dear.
Like seeing the moon after long,
While it sings its silent song.

Then I turned to the nest page,
To find myself freed from the cage.
Wasn’t easy but flipped it away,
Didn’t want anything bothering to stay.

It feels like just yesterday
when I thought this would be my forever,
when I hoped things would stay the same,
where there was no room
for regrets or heartache.

Now, as I turn to a new page,
the margins feel wide again.
There’s space for mistakes
that don’t sting as much,
for sentences that don’t have to be perfect,
and for stories still waiting to be written.

The old chapters remain,
reminding me why I can’t go back there again.
After all, those lessons shaped me,
made me who I am today.

They’re not shut completely,
but they’re not wide open either.
They sit quietly in a corner,
just out of reach,
as I step into something new.

Where I reside right now,
Is not where I want to be.
Scared and alone,
In a world not as care-free.

Responsibilities and worries,
Exist as live entities.
Troubling my mind constantly,
Sometimes getting me on my knees.

And I yearn with my heart,
A place where I can sleep.
The softness and warmth of the security,
A long rest without a peep.

So I go running back,
Blind, without clarity.
To my family, a warmth I’ll forever seek,
The one’s who I call, my refuge from reality.

When reality hits too hard at times,
And everything in my head goes wrong,
Whatever I do feels like crimes
And life is just slow and long.

Sometimes I feel like crying,
Sometimes I just get mad
At people who were just consoling,
And make them sad as well.

Then I figured out,
That there was this one guy,
Who I have always known about
Who wouldn’t let me cry.

At times, he’s my refuge,
At times my soul,
At times my only fuse,
And in my life he plays a huge role.

It was all right, just as I’d planned.
The world walked, according to my stride.
It was a life upon which I held command.
Without pain, to my word, it did abide.

But reality does not knock,
It tears straight through.
A life no strength could mock,
Vanished into the blue.

Nothing stood, nothing remained
“Oh what ruins” screamed my hopeful gaze
No voice, nothing responded,
All that answered me was empty space.

But as the final strand of hope,
Vanished into the unknown
There was a power that pulled it back as a rope
Before it was completely blown.

In that light, reality did not dare,
The burden of the world, no more mine to bear.
A quiet refuge, untouched by despair,
Even ruin could not follow me there.

Reality is not something easy
It might make you go crazy
If I had to take a break from mine
I’ll run to the place which’ll make me shine.

Anytime to escape this toxic danger,
I neither have to meet my friends nor a stranger.
I just have to rush towards that room
Where my dance skills will unleash and bloom.

Its a place where I forget everything
I dance to my fullest and sometimes also sing.
This is my refuge, my way out,
I’ll dance forever with no doubt.

When the whole world gets way too loud,
And I just hate being in the crowd,
I open my drawer and grab a page,
To let go of all my stress and rage.
With a HB pencil in my hand,
I create my own quiet land.
No marks, no tests, no one to judge,
Just black lines and a charcoal smudge.
This notebook is my silent space,
My favorite little hiding place.
Here I don't have to explain a thing,
I just draw until my thoughts take wing.

When academic stress get way too tense,
And nothing makes any sense,
I sneak up the stairs to the open roof,
Away from every lecture and proof.
The wind up here is cool and sweet,
Far away from the noisy street.
I look up at the moon and stars,
And forget about my hidden scars.
Sitting alone on the chilly floor,
I don't have to pretend anymore.
The night sky wraps me in its breeze,
And puts my crazy mind at ease.

Whenever life feels way too heavy,
And my head turns totally messy,
I don't want to talk to anyone around,
I just need to block out every sound.
I plug my earphones in my ears,
And instantly drop all my fears.
My favorite song starts to play,
Washing all bad vibes away.
In this world of beats and bass,
I finally find my personal space.
No fake smiles, no extra noise,
Just me, the music, and a singer's voice.

Whenever people misunderstand me,
And reality feels like a penalty,
I don't scream or fight out loud,
I just walk away from the crowd.
I pull out my old rough diary page,
Where I spill my truth at every stage.
I write down words I can never say,
Just to make it through another day.
My ink writes what my heart really feels,
It's the only thing that actually heals.
This small book hidden under my bed,
Clears out all the chaos inside my head.

Bound in chains, held up tight
The world held its reins, denied me light.
Each passing second carved me thin
Until I had nothing more within

It broke through me, shattered my fame
It got me down, seized my flame
No light, not a ray
Just an evil bark engulfed in dismay

But when it all vanished aghast
Rose a faith to flabbergast
And when the end remained face-to-face
The flame it lit, burnt ablaze.

No force remained to keep me bound
No weight remained to drag me around
The world that ruled, now understands
Its my time and its I who commands…

When the winds chase you to the edge,
When your fears break your pledge,
That’s when you’ve got to make the choice,
Listen to your heart and ignore that empty noise.

Jump and rise!
To see you zenith, you’ve got to experience your demise,
Because when you choose the difficult path,
You discover success’ addictive wrath.

Stumbling you shall fall,
But lift yourself and stand tall,
Because the toughest story,
Contains the most magnificent glory.

Caring, sharing and supporting your friends;
That is fine, but it might come to an end.
When you are low and blue,
Your heart feels broken into two,
Friends may or may not be there to fix you.

Maybe once, maybe twice,
You will have people by your side.
But to prepare for the last time,
Learn to be alone.

Push your self, motivate yourself,
Because if not someone else,
You will always have yourself.

We all live in a world so full,
All negativities gathered up.
We might go down on the way,
But to stay on track, we must get up.

You might have goals to fulfill,
You can get some help too.
But it will last only,
If you change yourself into someone new.

It is not that no one is there,
They are the sticks that support us,
But the actual strength comes from within,
For which lifting yourself is a must.

There are people to push you low,
But it is you who decides to go up or down.
People may kick you or prick you,
But it's you who has to move on.

With little sparkling eyes,
I see the world outside,
Trying my best to chase others' praise.
But why am I trying to prove it when I know myself.

It is me who lifts or pulls myself down,
It is up to me to build a life for myself.

There are friends,
But where are they when I cry?
At the end of the day,
It is up to me to decide,
How I want to live my life.

When you feel low,
Don’t hide in others' shadows.
Instead come out and,
Lift yourself by yourself.

Follow no one else,
But your inner self.
Don’t fear anything,
Just prove yourself.

Wake up to reality,
Before it's too late.
There will be no one to guide you,
But yourself.

Lift yourself by yourself,
A value so great,
Helps in reaching the goal of oneself.

Hardships may block the way,
From the path of righteousness we must not stray,
As it is the only way.

To taste success in life today,
Lifting yourself
o is the only way,
So lift yourself by yourself today.

The time has come for a new beginning.
Starting from changing the violin string.

Cello bringing harmony,
And the flute completing the symphony.

The bass would add some depth,
The drums filling the rhythm with every breath

If all the instruments came together,
It would feel like sunshine in bad weather.

An orchestra of peace,
Togetherness across the seas