Riding free

She rides the horseA free spirited steedHooves galloping swiftWings flying wideSometimes on the groundon the lush green meadowSometimes in airOn the fluffy white cloudskicking up the grassAnd sometimes the cloudsBouncing manesAnd her flowing hairMatching their rhythmMatching the stridesThere is a songThat the wind singsShe hears the songShe sings that tooThere are no reinsThere is nowhereContinue reading “Riding free”

At last free

Water is freeFrom the confinesof the unseen glassIt leaps outOff the rimInto the free windCaught by the gustIt dissipatesinto million dropletsLosing its identityNo longer liquidJust a free vapourExisting unseenSeparated dropletsFlowing in the airEvaporating into cloudsThere they gatherand make a planThey hurl downas a torrid rainThrough rivuletsthey travelGushing on preset pathIn the river they meetFinally unitedasContinue reading “At last free”

The green tent

There stood a tentWith the colour so greenon the side of the roadSomewhere in between Some just passed bySome stopped to seeFor it never stopped anyonejust waited in the shadow of the tree The wind straining on the fabricPickets fixing the tent to the groundResisting the urge to fly awayWaiting forever to be found ItContinue reading “The green tent”

Swirl in the Rain

Swirl of the umbrella Spinning the rain drops Making that dance Oh what a spectacle! I stopped as the crowd gathered Suddenly Aware of my self The umbrella continued to swirl My feet fell silent, stuck in my shackle. My eyes filled with shame I did what I shouldn’t have Each accusing eye, a strangerContinue reading “Swirl in the Rain”

Shakti hoon, Saksham hoon

मैं कौन हूँजानती हूँकिसी नाम से सीमित नहीं क्या चाहती हूँजानती हूँकिसी सहारे की ज़रूरत नहीं किसकी तलाश हैजानती हूँमें अपने आप में पूरी हूँ, ये मानती हूँ देवी हूँ, पूजा होती है मेरीजानती हूँपर बस औरत रहना चाहती हूँ मेरी फ़िक्र है तुम्हेंमैं जानती हूँपर अपना ख़्याल खुद रखना जानती हूँ शक्ति हूँसक्षम हूँऔरतContinue reading “Shakti hoon, Saksham hoon”

I am the dusk

I am the duskthen it will be darkfiery ball coolsweary of the scorching daysliding down rapidlypulling the rays downpausing briefly at the rimJust for one last look at its creationbefore it is nightlast stroke of golden brushpaints the sky crimsonI am the duskslowly turning darklast rays lingers on my wingswarming it up, keeping it aliveitContinue reading “I am the dusk”