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I always wanted to walk on clear paths.
But if I get lost with you in the alleys,
I would love it.

I always wanted to be the richest person.
But if I am in rags with you by my side,
I would love it.

I always wanted to live a long life.
But if I ever die in your arms,
I would love it.


Ria said…
Aah what a thought, i have often felt this way.
and if you ever make a fool of myself, not only i will laugh it off,but i would love to make a fool of myself too.
Nikita said…
Scribbling Girl said…
Awww so lovey dovey and beautiful :)
Fatima said…
Beautiful thoughts...true words :)

Take Care.
Me said…

It is 'YOU' who matters, the company...nothing else fills in for it :)
That waws beautiful!
What every girl wants from life :)
satya said…
excellent!! heart touching..
Anwesa said…
@ Neeha,
Thanks !
Anwesa said…
@ Ria,
You are one amongst the blessed. Touchwood !
Anwesa said…
@ Priya,
Thanks !
Anwesa said…
samajh mein nahin aaya kya likha, lekin jo bhi likha gazab likha ! :P
Anwesa said…
@ Nikita,
Thanks !!
Anwesa said…
@ Scribbling Girl,
Thanks !!
Anwesa said…
Thank you !!
Anwesa said…
:D Yes,for sure.
Anwesa said…
@ Harini,
Thank you :)
Anwesa said…
@ satya,
Thanks !
so expressive, gonest and poetic

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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.