And I know, I will

I want to knit cardigans to keep you warm

I want to pluck strawberries and plums from the back garden

and stir them in a pan to make bottles of jam

I want to polish tables and play the piano

I want to scrub the stone steps that lead to our house

I want to feel the wooden floor with my bare feet

and decorate the fireplace with black and white photos

I want to grow vegetables in the kitchen garden

And make tomato soup and roasted apples for supper

I want to sit by the fireplace

Sipping rosy wine in tall glasses with you

And laugh and talk as old people do

Remembering days of our own wild youth.

 

 

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Storm and hail

No finery in the world can appease me
No gold can hold my attention
No wealth can seduce me
I work against any pretension.
It is you who gets my heart
In the world filled with people falling apart
I will trade my comfort for your company,
altering my own destiny.

I want to kiss you under the night sky
hold your hand and never say goodbye
Till we grow toothless and frail
Standing strong through storm and hail

Just another evening

I was sitting in the balcony today evening. The sky was deep orange in color and everything looked as if I was seeing through an orange gelatin paper. Do you know that there are a lot of Gulmohar and Amaltash trees around? They were in full bloom today. It all looked so beautiful.

I missed you when I was looking at all this…

Not always in rainbows and butterflies

Not always in rainbows and butterflies

That you find love passing by

Sometimes it’s hidden in the dungeon below

Where chaos and nostalgia give you subtle blows

Where confusion emancipates

And clarity takes a bow.

Sometimes you find love in  old diaries

In those old forgotten greeting cards

In those pressed yellow flowers.

Sometimes you find them in photos hidden in  cardboard boxes

And in old facebook posts that you don’t want to share any longer

Sometimes, love whiffs by when you pass the restaurant you went on your first date

Sometimes, the old telephone reminds you of the conversations you had

You close your eyes and try to hear that voice. In vain.

Sometimes you find it when you rummage  through your closet

And pull out the blue dress

You trace your fingers on the brown stain

And fondly remember how you dropped some chocolate pastry on it

And how those tissue paper clad hands carefully wiped off the cream.

Sometimes, you find love on a particular spot on the building terrace

From where you stalked his house.

Sometimes, love slips through the letter flap

Enclosed in a white envelope.

Sometimes, it plays in your music system

In the form of a voice note.

Not always in flowers and butterflies

That you find love

Sometimes, you stumble upon it

While looking for old emails

And sometimes it pops up in your message inbox

When you are least expecting it.

Shivardhangini

You and I went to the river bank with our feet covered in earth

And as we sat beside the flowing water

And listened patiently to what the Gods of wind had to whisper,

The leaves rustled and brought along the song of silence.

And at that moment I knew that all I would ask for is you.

I want the stillness of your mind,

The calmness of your heart

And the thoughtfulness of your soul.

The more I think about you

The more I want to become like you.

Open the gates for my soul O Love

I am waiting, dreaming and hoping

That you will rescue me someday

And let me be your Shivardhangini

 

 

All I want

You know this is all I want

I want to bathe in the brown of your eyes
I want to be in your arms for a very long time.

We will pick up all the old pieces that still thrive on nostalgia and memories

We will seal them together in our embrace

And bring along peace and end all menace.

O Dear Love, let us take this chance

And hold each other in a dance

Because I do not know what tomorrow will bring

And that is why I want my heart to sing

This song of love so that I can breathe you in.
So cradle my Soul-O being
Let the scent of your existence soak in me
And we will become one
In the world full of dreams.

Home

I merge into the mountains and feel the waterfall dribbling on my lips
My head starts to rest now and my memory slips
The soil begins to seep into my pores
And helps relax my body sour
And as freedom spreads its wings
The thrushes begin to sing
And then the light enters my soul
And takes it away to the rescue shore
One with God, as I become
Purpose fulfills and I come home…

My window and the thoughts that float in my mind

I rest my elbows on the aluminum bars of the sliding window and lean out of the frame to face the street below. I hear the sparrows chirping. I see hues of beautiful green leaves swaying obliviously. As the soft sunlight touches my face and as the cool breeze capers with my hair, all I feel is freedom. I close my eyes and think what would it feel like to fly in the sky in the truest sense. I imagine myself like that sometimes, flying above the earth in my favorite orange dress, cutting through the air like an eagle and my hair unbound, fluttering graciously in the limitless sky. My heart glows at the very thought of it. My mother says I am mad to think of it literally. But I feel that we can always have the liberty as humans to dream, sometimes, without thinking of sane boundaries drawn across our imagination and jump beyond notions of a structured life and the vicious circle it loops us into. It’s a beautiful way to refresh our mind and let a bit of fantasy rule our lives, even for a little while, and let magic sprinkle around and make us  grow out of our own self.

Grey clouds

 

The sky was quite

and the grey clouds hung low,

the air was heavy and brought along a pungent smell.

That’s when she woke up with a jolt

She felt bile rise in her stomach,

and her chest felt so empty that she placed her palm there, to give herself an assurance of some sort.

A knot of emotions stuck in her throat,

tears rolled down on her beautiful cheeks.

She wanted to let out a cry, but she couldn’t.

Her heart thumped against the rib cage

It was hard to believe that it was a dream, it had felt so real

If there was anything of the nightmarish Narak that the Puraan spoke of then he should have been there…

Perfect

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We are not perfect.

We are flawed. And that too beautifully.

The perception of the people shapes our personality in their mind

And people can be wrong.

No one knows us better than we know ourselves.

We should not wait for someone to validate our existence.

We are enough. We are so enough in our self.

We need to believe.

And everything will fall into place.

You and I deserve to be, what we want to be. We have it all.

We can be everything. We are everything.

So put on your happy soul out there in the wild

and use every bit of talent that you have

to make this life what it deserves to be.