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Imprints of love they are
Deep and ruddy.
Peeping into my soul -
I find it untouched,


imprints of love are unloved..
oh boy....
hope it is all fiction that you write....
Ria said…
Aah beautifully worded.
Jaspreet said…
Beautiful! I simply loved it :)
WarmSunshine said…
lovely! and i like what u did with the blog :)
Phoenix said…
Your words resonate with my soul

sawan said…
u shudn hav labelled it as fake. no emotions are fake, fiction - reasonable!

luvd it :)
Thousif Raza said…
makes me wonder... i liked i a lot :)
Bikramjit said…
love is god they say .. so i am sure no one is UNLOVED ...

ANWESA said…
Thanks !
ANWESA said…
Yes,its fiction.
ANWESA said…
Thanks :)
ANWESA said…
Thanks !
ANWESA said…

*hugs you back*
ANWESA said…
What I meant by "FAKE" was in context with the piece. Its not about fake emotions. Its about emotion-less relationships which are FAKE.
ANWESA said…

Thanks !
ANWESA said…
I was talking about relationships in this world.
Phoenix said…
your words echo the emptiness in my soul!
Anwesa said…

P.S. : Didn't you comment before ? Did you like this so much ? If yes, I am glad.

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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.


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