Category Archives: philofloat

20s : The story of emotional attachment

***** rolled down my cheek; and it tasted salty just as it did in childhood. But that was childhood! Who cries in early 20s? It’s embarrassing! (And boys, they don’t ***)

Emotional attachment plays this game. And as one of my friends say,  Ahh the life of Sheldon Cooper.. no emotions.. no attachment!

Image result for sheldon cooper and emotional attachment

  • Sheldon: Why are you crying?
  • Penny: Because I’m stupid!
  • Sheldon: That’s no reason to cry. One cries because one is sad. For example, I cry because others are stupid, and that makes me sad.

20s. You lose your friends to foreign land, one by one. You lose them to career. You lose them to opportunities.

20s.  You lose friends for fault of others. You lose your friends to circumstances.

20s. You lose them with time.

Buy your friends a poster from Amazon!

Friends to acquaintances is merely a journeyof choices and priorities.

However tightly you hold ’em, you have to be lucky to be with your dearest ones through your 20s.

20s is the story of emotional attachment. The story of emotional loss.

How nice would it be to be Sheldon Cooper, away from all emotional delusions.. How if attachment was just a file in an email, nothing more!

Image result for friendship silhouettes


Indelible Chaos Morsels

Turn your eyes,

Or get ready to read it twice;

For the mystery is unsolved,

The malady has evolved,

And the love is lost;

But it will cost!

A Morsel to read,

Chaos to deal,

And footprints we leave-

Indelible it will!

the emperor of all maladies

the emperor of all maladies

The Emperor of all Maladies. ‪#‎CoverPage‬
A morsel that will leave an indelible mark and chaos within you.
My first short story getting published in Indelible Chaos Morsels.


Goodbyes are not forever;
Goodbyes are not the end.
They simply mean we miss you
until we meet you again.

While we leave this,
To begin a new journey
Let us not forget Techo
Where we started our prime.
Our memories of yesterday will last,
But, a lifetime!
We were together through the rough
And we were together during the fun.
We stepped in as several,
But we will leave as one!
We remember the days and ponder-
what we would have been without ‘YOU’!



new beginnings!!

new beginningsHow would a poet start a new year? Definitely, with a poem. A new year with new aspirations, new ideas & most importantly, new beginning. Dump your old resolution in the recycle bin of your mind and start with a new one. When dream ends, life definitely ends. Either keep your dream alive or try a new one- this time, bigger than before.

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
   Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
   And things are not what they seem.

Reading Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on the first day of new year definitely proves my interest in his poetries, but what brings me to ‘A Psalm of Life’ is the veracity with which the philosophy of life is written. I ‘m not going to end up posting his entire poem, neither the essence of poem, but a stanza that keeps me enthralled every time I come across.

Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
   Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act— act in the living Present!
   Heart within, and God o’erhead!
The future will remind us of what we had in past, and slowly will slip to join the past. The present is a present to unwrap. Let us bury the past & start fresh. Let us act in the present.
“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning.”
Definitely, a message to store in memory!
I carry ‘little optimism’ to expect any rumblings of peaceful 2015, but my heart still wishes for no more aviation mishaps or terror attacks to occur, in 365 frames to come in 2015.

before you drizzle

the tree house
the tree house

Beguile me with your charm,

for charm is not forever to stay;

hide not behind those silver linings,

allow me a little more play.

For all I am,

is not just the denizen of your dwelling;

I am your poor little son,

whose sleep is summoned by the lullaby you sing.

Nomad, once again i will be,

as soon as you transform blue to gray;

allow me to find some cover,

lest, world shall call me your prey.

On that tree of yours,

allow me to chisel;

let me build a small tree house,

before you start to drizzle.

Till then, beguile me with your charm,

for charm is not forever to stay;

Hide not behind those silver linings,

allow me one more day.

– Satyagni


my first composition.singers(with english accent), guitarist, keyboard player, video editor required.
here goes few lines of my compo:

music is life

my lips are not made for music
neither for violin, nor for drumsticks,
but whenever i sing,i feel alive,
i feel around me-
the world is no more,
i feel like an eagle thaaaat soars;
beyond the blue skiessss, an endless flight… 
i keep on dreaming, dreaming more.


Merry Christmas

christmas tree

Life is what he made us

Love is what he left for us

Kindness is what he showed us

Mercy is what he taught us

Let’s not forgive that divine name

whom we called Jesus!

Merry Christmas


Who am I?


Who Am I ?

Years after when I turn back a little,

a question pops out of my mind;

Who am I– I ask myself,

It is all what I want to find.

When i see that guy in the glass,

I see an innocent face,

a little shy, never lie,

he is bestowed with god’s grace.

When his fellows mock,

he laughs along;

when his teachers ask,

he tries not to be wrong.

He knows he has a body weak,

But he can fight with a strong soul.

He is no brave, he is no strong,

but he believes he can change it all.

When I see that guy in the glass,

I ask him who he is;

And in that old familiar voice,

he tells me the name,

the one my mother used for me.

He is what I used to be!


deja vu


Before my eyes lie an imprint –

a dead body canvased with chalk;

little it matter for the folks around,

who all, have long miles to walk.

But it pangs me in my stomach,

transports me in the past,

where i could see my brother

and his breathe slowly last.

Rammed by the heavy truck,

he fell off….he fell off his little bike;

had the nearby public acted instantly,

it would have saved, saved his life!

Fear struck the driver of the truck

and he ran out of sight,

and behind the driver, ran the mass,

but nobody to hear victim’s plight.

The driver was chased,

the driver was caught;

and with iron fists,

tried in the court of lawless lot;

some passersby merely glimpsed,

some joined the mob,

some simply passed,

while the driver was left to sob.

while my little brother was slowly dying,

people gathered around,

but nobody could bring some aid on time

that would have helped him get back sound.

The driver lost to blows,

while my brother lost to lack of aid,

it was too late,

to save either of them;

and nobody was blamed!

it wasn’t an accident but a murder,

a murder of two;

every time i see an accident

i get that feeling of ‘deja vu‘ !



Hope (Photo credit: true2source)
FATE, not lie in my hands though,
Agonies shall never conquer my woe,
Sympathy which stays my biggest foe,
when Hope shall stand a little low,
what my little lips shall try
is to say an adamant no!
Castigate, you will,
for the futile efforts-
that I endlessly put,
but I will stand,
I will live the life,
which i forever dreamed.
I hope not for a hand,
Or a wizard’s magic wand,
I hope not for the God’s panacea,
But a ray of HOPE,
Or a little bit of PRERNA!