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JIVANN

Na sukh, na dukh,
Na mitr, na shatru,
Main keval chalaa karta hoon
Jivann ki raah par.

Na satya, na bhram,
Na janm, na moksh,
Main keval socha karta hoon
Jivann ki abhilasha par.

Na prem, na dwesh,
Na asha, na niraasha,
Main keval dekhaa karta hoon
Jivann ki  vibhinn roopon ko.

Comments

Mystic ray said…
U r amazing......ur writings are amazing....sometimes life seems as u wrote in ur poetry......i think we all jst need to watch life play its game like a cricket match .........hahaha...:).....I love poetry so do urs....
Fatima said…
lovely poem...
Great usage of words :)

Take Care.
Priya Joyce said…
Um It's always pain to find out words to comment here :P cos you just dun always like to comment amazing out of the way b'ful :P

I need to have more adjectives in my vocabulary :P
u r just awesome :D
☆ Rià ღ said…
Too good...lovely words only this time in Hindi!!
Thousif Raza said…
its beautiful... but living like that is very difficult dont u think... true u wont be affected by anything... but i think a life lived with emotions that a like a ocean.. is much more satisfying... where u can sit back one day and remember the good bad and worse things in life.Personal opinion:)

The poem is beautiful... :)

take care and keep writing......
chand said…
i'm speechless.how can a person b so versatile??hats off 2 u
Anwesa said…
@Mystic Ray,

Thank you !
Anwesa said…
@ Fatima,
Thanks :)
Anwesa said…
@Lil' Priya,

Thank you sweetie :) And its my pleasure that you read my posts.
Anwesa said…
@ Ria,

Thanks dear :)
Anwesa said…
@ Thousif,

I get your point. But sometimes rare things do happen, don't they ? Sometimes you can be impassive , maybe for a few moments.

Thanks for dropping by :)
Anwesa said…
@ chand,

Just like a one-line compliment being so lavish :D
mein zindagi ka sath nibhata chala gaya :P
Anwesa said…
@redemption.... ,

har fikr ko dhhuen mein udaata chala gaya ...

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I CANNOT REMEMBER MY MOTHER ~ Rabindranath Tagore

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.

WAITING FOR YOU

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