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Somewhere there lie...

Pieces of broken me.

Gather I cannot

But stare at them.

Each is a memory - a part.

A beautiful one.


Yonder lay the heart-


No reflections, no names scribbled.

Just a void.

A  grotesque wound.

A frame without  a  picture.

A drop of tear,

And some petals dry... 


Priya said…
No human escapes from these broken pieces of life. Nice.
ninz said…
well written :)
Ms.Meduri said…
wonderfully written..!!!
joie de vivre said…
ouch!! kiska dil toota
Arv said…
Well written piece on that phase of life we just cant avoid...

do get back to some happy writings soon :)

take care mate... cheers...
Ria said…
very well written!!
Priya Joyce said…
u depicted the pain so well...
Tulika said…
Just a void.
A grotesque wound.

I find one overwhelming emotion exuding in your verses of late. Powerful !
Nikhil Menon said…
wonderful.. but why are u always so satirical?? :O

ANWESA said…

Yes,might be. Pain is after all universal.
ANWESA said…
ANWESA said…
ANWESA said…
@Ice Maiden,

Wondering why you smiled....
ANWESA said…
bechaare kavi kaa...
ANWESA said…

Will come back happily.
ANWESA said…
ANWESA said…
ANWESA said…
@lil' Priya,
thanks !
ANWESA said…
Maybe I'm satirical :P :P
sm said…
nice poem
rainboy said…
nice hai...
I hope all is well ?

take care and be good.
ANWESA said…
thank you for the compliment.

All is well.Its fiction after all.
Thousif Raza said…
you have a very deep bond with love and despair..... the way you put it out in words.... ah absolutely brilliant :)

take care and keep writing.........
ANWESA said…
Nikita said…
Beautiful indeed...
ANWESA said…
Thanks dear !
dil k dard ko agar koi shayari kahe to gham nahi... takleef to tab hoti hai jab log wah wah karte hein

wah wah
ANWESA said…
Beautiful line from you...

And how true !

Popular posts from this blog


Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

Amidst Soul-lessness

There is smoke somewhere. 
I cannot seem to figure out where. 
The lights are here, the music is here.
Has it been home here ?
Perhaps. Maybe when it did not rain.
Or maybe when it rained and it did not matter.
Maybe when I walked alone, smiling to myself. 
Or maybe when I realized I was okay.
Had it been always like this ?

Not really. 
Things clicked, took effort and blood. 
Did I do it ? Or the beasts did ? Maybe we both together,
Played this game. 
Amidst soulful solitude, it was love. 
Maybe appreciation.
Another journey, another dry spell. 
Will it ever be home again ? 

P.S. : Penned at Candies, Bandra on 11th January 2017 


I cannot remember my mother,
only sometime in the midst of my play
a tune seems to hover over my playthings,
the tune of some song that she used to
hum while rocking my cradle.

I cannot remember my mother
but when in the early autumn morning
the smell of the shiuli flowers floats in the air,
the scent of the morning service in the
temple comes to me as the scent of my mother.

I cannot remember my mother
only when from bedroom window
I send my eyes into the blue of the distant sky,
I feel that the stillness of my mother's gaze on my face
has spread all over the sky.

~Rabindranath Tagore
Note : This was one of  the earliest poems I read,loved and cherished.