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Tujhe dene ke liye
Abb kuch nahin mere paas...
Ek toota sa khaali dil
Aur kisiki wafaa ki aas...

Tujhe dene ke liye
Abb kuch bhi nahin mere paas...
Bas ek dukh ki pyaali
Aur khaalipan ka ehsaas...

Tujhe dene ke liye
Abb kuch nahin mere paas...
Bas teri aankhon mein
Apne aap ki talaash....

P.S. : My first "poem" in Hindi
Welcome 2011 ! 


Scribbling Girl said…
Even I penned a hindi poem after ages ....Happy New Year to u :)

Love the poem....if this is first then ur already a master :)
joejoseph said…

very nice poem

its more

happy new year
and welcome to 2011

thanx for your valuable post
Ria said…
Nice one dear...hope we see more poetry from u in 2011.
rocky said…
I am sorry I do not understand Hindi much. So, cannot really comment :)
Priya said…
Want more...
Thanks for visiting and commenting.

Love u as ever. Happy New Year.
Though i don't know Hindi, but i could get touch the a b c b rhyme. And the title of the poem "Tohfa" I think the same Arabic word:"masterpiece".
Happy New year.
Anwesa said…
@Scribbling Girl,
Thanks for that big compliment :)
Anwesa said…
What's so funny ?
Anwesa said…
:) Hopefully.
Anwesa said…
HNY to you too !
Anwesa said…
Glad you still visit this place :)
Anwesa said…
Thanks ! HNY :)
Anwesa said…
@The reader from Yemen,
Thanks for reading my posts regularly.

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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.