Wednesday, October 31, 2012

He - she - Love



जो मिले नहि कभी राहों में
आज मिलते हैं इक दूजे की बाहों में
सपनों का जिनको शौक ना  था
आज कहते हैं खुदा से , सच हो हर  दुआ  ..

(This is specially for Ibeingme )

Translation:

they never crossed
each other's path
yet today they stay
in each other's heart;
they never dared
to cherish a dream
yet whisper prayers
to make love happen still.

And now to the 3WW poem :


He illustrates love
not with red roses
that she might falsely like;
but with sallow leaves
handpicked from the way
she likes to be green.







Tuesday, October 30, 2012

And So it began ..





She fell in love ,
one tweet at a time,
He fell in love
one meet at a time;
They are in love
one kiss at a time.


--

Prompted @ the Mag
also linked to this week's Open Link night

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Love , A story & About it


It was here that she realized she was in love with him.
It was mostly empty during the week; unless you count the the green grassy plots and fresh flowers keeping an eye on her.
He had looked handsome that day in the coffin.
The cemetery became her home since.

Written for Theme Thursday & for G-Man's Friday flash 55



Last week I wrote this as a comment on some one's blog and I think it was misinterpreted as me mocking the author. I find that amusing 'cause my thought process was all intent to explain loneliness of a human. We all need some one to talk to / write to . Just to let our stories be heard. to be known for the words and thoughts. And when you have no one to share those words with , it gets really haunting and lonely place to be.

Ye kaunsi kahani hai ki yaha likh bhi main raha hoon,Aur padhane wala bhi koi aur nahi hai..

(Translation :)


What is this story
I script,
and I alone would read it.



What did you understand for the lines ?
Let me know your views.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Black Coffee


It was the same cafe,
or so she thought;
the smiling face at the counter,
guiding everyone about
every cup billed for,
recommending just the right one,
scoring more smiles
from the kind old coffee lovers,
a nod from the new ones,
and an occasional "thank you".
It was all the same
or so she thought
till he read her thoughts,
knew how she sheltered
her pain within the coffee
and sipped on,
ignoring the black coffee
she so hated,
but upgraded her taste still.


Written for The Sunday Whirl , OSI , Sunday Scribblings
Linked to Open Link night - the one place that never ceases to inspire me :D

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Monday, October 15, 2012

Dear Sister

Long time ago,
I sang few lines,
praises of you
and your love
that fills my time;
I wonder if you
remember this
or let those thoughts
behind some where
as you moved on;
so today I thoguht
to try once more,
to appeal to you
with my ways
of dealing words.
will you like
to hear of clothes
the fabrics and colors,
the random mix and match
some lovely, some odd?
Or would you prefer
to hear of the stuff
full of glitter and gloss,
part real,part not
some precious,some lost.
Or maybe you can
finally cherish
the spaces this poem charts,
the smiles that shine free
even as we stand world apart.

--
Prompted @ OSI , sunday Scribblings , OctPoWriMo

Friday, October 5, 2012

I sleep well (for me)

"You just dont get it",
he throws the words at me,
and I cant stop laughing.
"I can not sleep in patches",
is all I have to say,
I can not also sleep,
knowing I have to write,
or when my fav show is on tv
or I suddenly remember
a book I left unread last night.
There are many hours,
that I know I should sleep,
and a few more when I could,
but I give it up for reasons,
I can not make any sense
or convince him any day
I too sleep well.

--

My second poem for OctPoWriMo ( so much for tryign to write 20 poems atleast this month :P )

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

will I last ?

will I last all days ?
Its something
I stopped asking
a long time back;
time now lacerate
the passion to pen,
ripe ideas tempt me but
I do not comprehend;
I simply say to myself,
make it fun,
make this count;
read and write,
with dignity and pride;
make friends as you walk
spread words while you last.


This is the first thing that popped in ym head as I chanced upon Octpowrimo challenge . No way I can write 31 poems but I can sure try my best.

Also linked to 3WW

Monday, October 1, 2012

Absence

He has been absent
for long;
the doorknob gone cold,
the mats heavy and dull
awaiting his footsteps
that led more to her
than to the house in all.
she has been waiting
so long;
the recipie books torn,
the stoves left to gather dust,
awaiting him in next chair,
her gaze fixed
on stale food,his empty chair.
In an old cemetry he lies,
wondering how long
she could hold on to hopes,
In the adjacent grave she lies
wondering how long
he would take to be home.
The food,the home,
the warmth, the love,
all lost.long ago.


Prompted @ OSI , Magpie Tales