Skip to main content


Kisi din meri kavitaayein
Bhi tumhe rulaayengi,
Tumhe yaad dilaayengi
Tumne mujhmein kya khoya.
Kya payaa woh tum jaano
Par humein yun hi kho diya...

Kisi din tum bhi mujhe
Aasmaano mein dhoondte huye
Bhatak jaoge hawaon mein.
Kho kar bhi humein naa paoge,
Kyunki hum toh honge
Kisi aur vriksh ki chaaon mein.


Fatima said…
Lovely, the pain and yet the love is beautifully expressed !

Take Care.
☆ Rià ღ said…
Pain...and more pain...sweetie its time for a happy post now.
Scribbling Gal said…
Wow I loved this post.....and specially the last two lines....brilliant :)
Anwesa said…

Thanks !
Anwesa said…

Thanks dear !
Anwesa said…

Thanks !
Anwesa said…

Yeah :) Coming soon.
Anwesa said…
@Scribbling Gal,

Thanks !
Anwesa said…

Thanks !

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.