I am a solitary vagabond walking on an endless path

I have left the world behind long ago. I have neither love nor wrath.

I have no fear. I have no care.

For this world anymore.

I walk freely with emotions left bare.

I tell my stories to the mountains.

Get refreshed by drinking the water of the fountains.

I lose myself often in the labyrinths of time

Trying to escape from the painful past-wounds inflicted before some time.

I flow with the breeze, I rise with the sun.

I sleep under the stars. In wilderness, I have all fun.

The world has forgetten me and so have I.

I am a vagabond. In solitude, I live and shall die.

Subrat Mohanty



Something is to be done, somehow it is to be done. It hardly matters why it is to be done.

The world has been doing it. Let us also do it. (If not for anything else, just for fun ?)

Rules are there very much. They speak in favour of this.

Before them, we are dumb like cattle and helpless like caught fish

We have sold our logic and strangulated our souls.

We lay trapped, in a cage of illusion painted by the world, like moles.

What to do ? That is how people do it.

Why do you mock us ? It happens with all. Can’t you see it ?

Yes, it happens with all.

But who again causes this ‘obvious’ fall ?

Brick by brick, the cement crumbles

And before you realise, one day, the building lies in rubbles.

Let us look at ourselves, we now seem a bit stupid.

Before flinging the stains of blame, mindlessly so rapid.

Pause for sometime, ask yourself why things are the way they are,

Where do you want to go – before you go any far.

It is always easy to be slave to the ways of the world.

It is not a sin to be a bit bold

To speak your soul out and do things your way,

Breaking free from formalities and carrying the day.

Subrat Mohanty

I walk alone

Abandoned by fortune, I tread along my path in isolation.

Shivering in pain, yet I live my life in strong resolution.

I saw flowers but now I walk on many a thorn.

Then I walked amidst in crowd but now I am a solitary forlorn.

The passers by did laugh at me seeing my battered state.

Wondering how cruel can sometimes be fate.

They think I am a stupid and I am dirty.

They don’t do anything except for taking pity.

I say them

“I don’t need your consolation any more.

Please.No looks of pity and no fake emotions anymore.

You desert me, I make silence my friend

Your rejection will not make my life end.

Now I walk with bare passion

Passion to live and passion to grow

I will rise but will never bow

To the whims of the whimsical world

Infidel by nature yet shamelessly so bold

I walk alone my way

Now, no sweet words have I to say.”

Subrat Mohanty


It is a confusion – what to say and what to not

Before the words come, many a battle within are fought

Between the head and the heart

Pangs of emotions striking on the back of mind like a explosive dart


The world seems a mystery…..

They laugh, they cry

They ‘try’ to be true and sometimes they lie.

They jump in joy, they bang their heads in disdain

Sometimes they appear logical and sometimes insane


Now the logic seems to be melting down and emotions have grown strong

The path seems hazy and yet I try to move along

With a hope fed to us since ages

By the books and wise sages

“Do what is to be done, the way it is to be done when it is to be done.

Forgetting the past gone, bettering the present now, for what is done, can it be ever undone ?”

Subrat Mohanty



Vague impressions made on the canvas of mind

Of events and people left behind

They can’t be touched, met or faced

But only be heard, seen and felt.

Some are beautiful some are miserable

Yet so attached are we to them

From where they come

I know not the answer

May be from the unknown depths of mind

Far from understanding and hard to find.

Subrat Mohanty

A journey on the mountain road


Treading on the path, drowned in the air of isolation

With lofty timbers touching the heaven, compelling one tomeditation.

Upon nature, the beautiful creation of god.

And how it  stands so still in balance, looked after by the lord.

Wintry breeze welcoming us.

Majestic mountains gazing at us.

Pebbles lie where the river once used to flow

Far from the city din, where the plants now grow

Beside it.On this earthly throne on which they sit.

Together they make up the portrait of the master

Hearts fill with wonder

For the creation and awe for the master.

Subrat Mohanty