दोस्तों के साथ छुट्टी का आया है मौक़ा भर के रखे खूबसूरत कपड़ेबस कोई नक़ाब नहीं रखा कुछ उसने किया कुछ हमने कर लिया सबसे बेहतर होने का ऐसा कोई ख़िताब नहीं रखा जितना सोचा उससे ज़्यादा खूबसूरत पाया जितनी सुंदर यादें बटोरी हैं वैसा तो कभी ख़्वाब में भी नहीं देखा कई नज़ारे देखेContinue reading “No goodbyes”
Tag Archives: Poem
The warmth of the Embrace
The warmth You feel in our embraceis not of the bloodcoursing through my veinsbut of the beating heartFilled with loveThe embracegoes deeper than the skinThrough the welling eyesAnd the fragrant breathTo the echo of the heartAnd to the bliss thereIn that coreYou will find me waitingFor there, is where we first metand there, is whereweContinue reading “The warmth of the Embrace”
What’s it worth?
What good would be colours if you can see? Colours add so much value if you can see? But colours can only attract and grab attention. But cannot maintain it It can only add value and be value by itself. For it to be valuable, it needs the divinity of sight. Else a worthless illusion
Still like a stone
Felt weary and filled with lethargy. Just didn’t want to move a limb. The stillness and heaviness I felt, I shared in common with the unmoving stone. The stone that is essentially full of inertia, lies unmoving, anchored. It’s entire being is filled with inertia and heaviness. It’s own weight keeps it rooted. It onlyContinue reading “Still like a stone”
The day rises
बादलों को जला कर सुबह आयी है अब आसमान को रंगना है नीला
Colour of the sky
है आसमान में कौनसा रंग वो तो दिखता है हवा और बादलों में है बादलों में कौनसा रंग हल्के हैं, तो सफ़ेद भर गये, तो काले हवा मैं कौनसा रंग है सुबह का नीला है श्याम की लालिमा और रात का सावलापनहै आसमान अठरंगीहर रंग में ढाला वो देखती हैं आँखें जो हो मन मेंContinue reading “Colour of the sky”
I fit in. That’s a crime
I don’t belongBut I stayEvery nightEvery dayI am not wrongYet I changeUnnoticed That’s strangeI am not me it’s fine I fit inThat’s crimeI am happythey do sayEvery nightEvery day
The pot
A crackFrom a fallWidening deeperdisintegrating the potTill only mud remainedAnd then I knewMud it wasOnlyPot was builtBy two hands, Not onecrafted by care Bound by loveAnd it was builtNot bought
Beauty waits for the beholder
BeautyWaits for the eyesThat seesFor whenIt recognisesIt glowsthen ittruly becomesBeauty
I am the seed
My job is doneI am now to wither To merge with the soilAnd feed the netherFrom my nectar Will rise the nextDrawn to me They did the restMy colour is lostthat was me indeedI am not gleaming in the sunI am in the depths, buried I am withering awayYet I am completeI am not theContinue reading “I am the seed”
