Love Happens

Look for love, 

work on love, 

put in effort to love, 



Love happens.

The more you work on it, 

quickly it crumbles. 

Love is effortless.  

Love is limitless. 


All Around.  


© Kumar Gautam




I got to know 

that you never got the love you deserved. 

Still, you are looking for a real woman to love. 

C’mon love me! 

I have my every breathe of love to offer. 

Worship me as goddess

make love to my imperfect body 

tiny bottoms, teeny boobs 

large heart, love-filled soul 

I will make your soul dance in tandem 

gods may commit sin 

in desire to watch our passions flaring.

Because man,

I have lived life. 

Aged carrying love in my pores,  

raised children. 

My husband used to float in my love cradle 

until Gods wanted to love him more. 


they say you are sun. 

Break-in, pierce-in 

and illuminate corners of my heart and soul.

Let me embrace you back

to make a perfect unison. 


© Kumar Gautam


To all those wondering

when will evil be squashed and wiped, 

the truth is 

evil is undying, 

it is perpetual.  

It is quick to clone, 

sticks like parasite to good 

and consumes it. 

One moment it looks like it has perished,

another moment it is found sticking round the corner 

spreading darkness.

You will have to tear it down again. 

It will provoke you to avenge

but never avenge evil 

else you will be conquered 

because evil has no power of its own 

it feeds on your weaknesses  

instigates a battle within,

a suicidal battle

that perishes you to dirt. 

If you have to fight evil 

fight evil with beauty, 

with light, 

daze it off 

and let it die its own death. 

Until then remember 

you are torch-bearer of goodness,

evil sheltered somewhere in your shadow

is following you 

matching step to step, breathe to breathe.


© Kumar Gautam


Heartbreaker, thank you!


Thank you for all the rage, threatening, abuse and violence.

Thank you for pushing me to the edge that

I have killed my past

and upgraded myself to my best version.


Thank you,

it is because of you

I realised who am I

what’s my worth.


Thank you.

A patient of chronic depression

is now an inspiration

to many.


Thank you.

I have started loving myself most

and I don’t miss out on love

from an opposite sex.


Thank you

for helping me re-define

meanings of love,

re-write story of my life.


Thank you,



© Kumar Gautam


What matters my love

in the end

are words.

Your words are bow

and my heart is string.

Together they create tune of love.

You may be a player with words,

a juggler

or sincere and honest.

What matters to heart

are those words.


Yours words may be true or untrue

may have come out in the moment of pain

or when you are overwhelmed with emotions

or upsurged with love

You may mean it

or may not mean it

but it’s the words that stays home



The time

when I am alone

remembering you

I remember those words

it takes away my loneliness

I believe you are there with me

cooing in those words


and again.


When I meet you again

my heart and mind

wishes to listen to

those words again

just to affirm,

the melody is not lost

and heart is thrusting upon love.

The evolution with in

is continuing.


And when your words are blunt yet piercing

heart bleeds thousand deaths

I may not believe your words

but heart is hurt

it is unable to take it

even though you might have said the same

in pain


to avenge

may be not to mean them.


Heart is unable to suffice

good mood or bad mood

all that matters to heart

are words.


redden my heart

with blood of finely chosen words

layer it with love

garnish it with smile

gleam in your eyes


you might have mastered my soul

but my heart only yearns for words

for propulsion of love.


© Kumar Gautam

Cultured Wolves

Very soon

soul in humans will become immaterial,

we all will be like wolves.

As we are prone to flight of fancy

we will call ourselves, cultured wolves.

We will not kill our own self

but we will certainly not save

our owns

from getting killed.

Later we will feed on the dead

relish the warm fresh salted blood of our own

burp and then will regroup again

looking forward to the present

searching for another prey to feed on.

And in the process if one of ours will die

we will again feed on it

and move on for ‘my survival, my dreams’.


Very soon we all will be wolves,

a evolved human race sans emotion.


© Kumar Gautam