Author Archives: Bhavi'🌻

She finds happiness in small-small things;
Always playful are her heart’s strings!
Legs fouled by shingle, eyes wishing for the sky,
Her happy face always hides her teary cry.
 
She is a little angle but not with a magic wand,
She doesn’t wear white but clothes stained by sand.
Her bright eyes shine more than the North Star, 
Being so little, she is a master in hiding the scars.
 
Naked eyes cannot see her pain.
Because she always shows the rainbow, never the rain!
Her laughs are the most melodious songs.
Being innocent she has been blamed for the wrongs.
 
She loves everyone equally, being uneducated,
Always her talent has been underestimated.
Her family cannot manage to fill her stomach two times a day;
In complain, a single word, she never says.
 
She doesn’t want anything from all of us,
It’s our mortality to provide her love and care just.
If you find her any day on your street,
Never forget that she deserves, from you, a treat!

Angels have fallen from the sky to my dream,
To fight those demons who made me scream!
They are here for bringing peace to my mind,
To teach the evils the concept of being kind.
 
For some, I am good rest consider me bad.
Behind this pretentious smile, only few can see the sad.
Their ears can only listen to my happy songs,
But some pure souls can feel why my head bongs.

I am different from everyone’s point of view;
I fix a few things but mostly, everything, I screw.
I am just another human stuck between good and evil;li 
When I was drowning nobody came for my retrieval!
 
My heart goes north and brain walk towards the south.
Heart says everything by eyes brain lies through the mouth.
When the brain stops thinking, profoundly heart starts beating;
They are two antiparallel lines, moving opposite, never meeting.
 
My body consists both heaven and hell.
To be a human, I have to maintain this balance well.
Nor an angel, neither a devil can win this fight;
Brain versus heart, the match takes place every night!

We all are stuck in this labyrinth!
Some think oblivion is the way out.

Some choose to suffer and
With all the pain they gather this course,
They open the door of paradise.
The paradise which exists on earth.

Those who chose oblivion, they suffer too.
But it’s obligatory suffering which brings no rain.

Rain comes after the pain goes beyond limits
And endless rain will welcome a rainbow.
Rainbow of emotions and feelings
Will arise to colour the grey world.

These colours will unite to give the white
The light of peace will shine bright!

It was a cold night he asked for a chai.
A question arose in my heart,
"You are sleeping on the footpath, why?"
"There is no home to go, no food to eat,
Only this killer winter moon to meet.”

His words frozen, but eyes melting,
That night, I saw his soul lamenting.
The winter was warm as compared to his hand,
He was like a tree on a barren land.

A corpse out of graveyard, he looked resembling.
The only living action was of his legs trembling.
A single piece of cloth covered his body,
Was his kind of pashmina, though, gaudy!

There are million more like him on the trails.
To provide them amenities, the government fails.
Not for everyone moon symbolizes beauty,
For him, it acted as a reminder of his duty.

His family is starving and dying under the bridge,
Our pain in front of them is just a smidge.
To fulfil our wants, we are corrupting our deeds,
That poor old man’s ethics are more than his needs!

Why mom, why you didn’t tell me when I was thirteen -
For me, the world will become obscene.

From being a girl, I am going to be a lady,
I can no more play with my dear teddy.
In future people are going to use me,
Passing cheap comments, they will abuse me.

For me, dad and you will buy the “best groom”,
Potter head’s favourite will still remain a broom.
Just for some amount of money,
I will have to face immense agony.

I will lose the rights over my life,
The only tools I will use be spoon, fork and knife.
All my dreams of being superwomen will break,
The kitchen will become my world for family’s sake.

Others will treat my life like a game,
I will also change along with my surname.
The second name of mine will become “sacrifice”,
I will be gambled on, in the game of dice.

Mom, if you would have told me this before,
I would have wished to be a little child, a little more.

Once I was drowning in my thoughts.
Those thoughts were awfully cold,
That they made my limbs freeze
Feelings were pervading into my lungs.

The blood running through my veins retarded,
My skin scorched due to extreme brine,
Heart rate eventually went down, 
Bustle of my brain became negligible.

Happy moments ran down my spine,
The worst still have some space in conscious.  
Last minute summarized the complete life.
Every part of my story floated in front of my eyes.

Then hope of survival began to fade,
But fear of death kept the mind alive.
A pen was hovering a little far,
This how words became my lifeguard!

To travel the world is not about going place to place,
All it is about to explore the internal space!
We wander in search of the peace, beauty and dreams;
To silence our soul’s screams.
 
Some dream of visiting Paris, some want to live in Kashi.
Most have guts to bid goodbye rest’s heart is squashy.
A journey ends then begins a new,
Many stories end still perpetual are few!
 
The human body gets tired of travelling;
But the mind, name of next destiny, keep babbling.
The soul is the one who knows the true meaning of peace.
With every voyage, the broken heart find one of its pieces!
 
I am a traveller who looks beyond a panorama;
I don’t collect photos of a place I gather its aroma.
I immensely love mountain’s highness and equally river’s depth.
My legs cover land’s enormity and eyes tour sky’s breadth.
 
Life is a journey in itself, and we all are travellers;
Measuring the route between birth to death, we are callipers.
To travel the world is not about going place to place,
All it is about to explore the internal space!

“I am home!”
I don’t remember the last time when I said this phrase,
From a decade, I am into wandering craze.
Moving from one place to another in search of the home.
Is it in the dark night sky, or in the morning wet brome?

But what home is?
A common reality or a poet’s imagination?
The running tracks of the train, or the tranquil station?
Different meanings, of a single word for different people,
Some call it the basement for some it’s the steeple.

Several consider four walls and a roof, a place to reside.
Whenever bewildered, mother’s lap I search, to hide!
Just like a bird, I fly away and away from my enduring nest.
Though, I make some brief abodes to have a little rest.

We all are travellers of near or far distances;
Of everything lost or found, we are blindfolded witnesses.
Being alone ship amidst the ocean, always I move ahead,
The soothing night only comes when I lie on the sand bed!

On the face of it, home exists within the destiny.
Unknown to the fact that it is all about the enthralling journey.
After cherishing this golden philosophy of animation,
I say “I am home!” with every step I take in this excursion.

The times are changing, but people’s mentality is same.
Not getting married till 25 is still a matter of shame.
People are taking stands for a rape victim on the internet.
In reality, for the predators, she has become a bait. 

The accuse of acid attack is still roaming free on streets,
That little-scorched soul is craving for a few heartbeats.
“Don’t wear a short skirt or else you will be teased”.
Why not teaching men, a women is not a feast?

Yes, you have options be a doctor or an engineer,
Go for a creative field they will consider you insincere. 
Writing, singing, dancing. These all are hobbies dear.
From these how will you earn a living! Every parent’s fear.

Politicians are eating up nation’s money. 
Houseful!! No issues, we will buy the ticket in black, honey.
Giving reservations, on the basis, of caste in this century. 
Let them die of hunger, who are into beggary.

Parents are spending last days, in an old age home.
People ask for shelter after confiscating the dome.
A girl was born; new admission in the orphanage,
Had wings but she was a chained bird in the cage!

If Gandhi were still alive,
For ideal India, he would strive.

Everyone is craving for him, though in the paper.
His name is being used, in politician's caper.
His principles are lying in the trash bin,
Actions for freedom are getting considered sin.

Obliterated teachings, of non-violence and truth,
People nowadays only "act" of being ruth.
He lost his life fighting against Britishers for freedom,
Calling oneself a proud Indian now has become seldom.

Gandhi's three monkeys are of no value, now.
People have forgotten etiquettes due to a holy cow.
He might be guilty of what he did in 1947,
Without partition, Kashmir would be real heaven!

Untouchables are still not allowed in the temple.
The belief of peace and harmony has crumpled.
Hindu Muslims are thirsty for each other's blood,
Talk of equality is lost, amidst religion’s mud.

If Gandhi were still alive,
Maybe India would have thrived.