Poems are hard to come by

Poems are hard to come by....
Hard it is, to sit back and write when duty buzz round the clock.
When mundane routine revolves around your spine.
To draw inspiration from a locked down world is indeed difficult. 

Poems are hard to come by...
Harder it is to compose verses. Verses that rhyme or those which are unrhymed.
It's actually tough to bring words together that make sense, when life itself doesn't . 
To articulate thoughts when minds is flooded already with enough to process.

Poems are hard to come by....
It's hard as bringing ideas into action. 
It's harder than quitting a habit. 

It's even harder than losing fat!

The harder you try, the harder it gets.

But hardest of all is to restrain from writing, when a poem does come by...!

The 3 A.M. drama

 You either perceive all at once or nothing at all.

Everything hurts or feels extremely blissful.

You turn utmost kind and greatful or you judge and do the envy thing.

You want to fly high and touch the moon or just hit bed and never get up.

You are bouncing with inspiration and possibilities or sinking into utter dismay. 

Casual words cut you deep or you remain indifferent to the entire happenings.

Your past fits perfect and future seems set or you are stacked with anxieties and regrets.

From next day you want to diet and detox but right now you crave for rich caffeine and extra cheese junk.

You wanna shop hard and lavishly spend or shed styles and become some simple saint.

This way, you relax your reins and let your mind and heart sing in unison , the glory of extreme emotions.

Because you know one thing for sure. That it will be morning again and all this 3 am drama will fade away....

RoMa's Roars Relished and Recited!

She has her pink summer solstice and her spring is he.
Also, a little average of her own, she got for free.
Though her first love is always coffee,
Her one day's blossom is me.
And my thorns she omits to see.
As her unmatched shade of grey, I artsy.
and at times in her joy of nothings I glee.
My darling child is she and her wicked witch is "Me".
Collectively a masala mash up is we.
Her lover is no mystery and his affair is her main misery
She says love can never harm, only to turtles may be.
Alas! Her dearest is in disguise, knew not she.
She treasures the flabby one that remains, but her perfect ring did flee.
Oh! In this vicious cycle of life, only she could love the lost, one must agree.

Checklists checked and yet if your plans spill, she calls it a bliss still.
One moment she is the kill and shortly later she makes you immortal with her skill.
Yes! To be one sweet sound of irony is my lady's will!
When life is wrecked and each day is a drill.
And when way across seems all uphill.
She tries to fit in the mould and fill
If not,  choose to handshake and part your bill.
Because she has always got her gulmohar getaways to chill!

She gets wise and high watching an eagle fly.
Petitions she write to your sunlight,
To re-align it's daylight and shine bright.
She paves you a road to delight and
In between hides the bait,somewhere tied tight.
She has got a memory curse, remembers even the remnant of scents you disperse.
Under her Kajal smudge, there is so much sorrow and misjudge.
Because unasked burdens she carry and about his thirty three she worry. 

Insanity and insecurities made her draught.
Deep conversations she "Then" sought,
With persons who owns her heart.
But only with muted screams she fought
And only deepest cut she got,
Waiting for what!? even she knew not.
So to blame it on time was her only resort,
Because thoughts and contemplation did naught.
Beware and be aware,  she self-taught.
In immaterial books and train journey, love she got.
And food did comfort her a lot.

Thus running against the world, she took halt.
Life, love and laughter into it's handicapped land she brought!
Dancing gracefully, mastering every beating heart.
Through Zoya's stories, her childhood back she caught.
Happiness beckoned, in celebration of her art.
How beautiful life has changed since then...I  always thought.
Ya! With me she belong, and I will love her no matter what! 

My better half - A disguised poetry

I am smart and beautiful they say,  and he celebrates me not just for that.
I have not changed much, and that as his success he claims.
He knows my flaws, the very details of where I lack and yet,  honors me not any less.
He leaps forward at my every drawback.
He is not a gift wrapper,  but a neat lamination.
He has no surprises nor secrets.
He is simple with no complex
A closed book of riddle I am,  and he trusts me nevertheless.
A detached lone side I own and he equally respects all my shades.
Not just me,  he immensely cares my everybody.
And he loves me an inch more than I could ever love him back.
My better half he is and at times my better whole.
And each day with him, I am a better self!

Your absolute love and my everything pure!

Planets I rule and their holding gravity is you!

 The entire sky and sea is me and you it's every shade of blue.

Creator I am and my intellect is you.

My great battles all know, but  my untold glory is you.

All three world's chasm I am,  and it's churned goodness is you.

Just a belief I am, the innocence behind that is all you. 

Heavenly bliss I am,  my heart's yearning is you.

Life events I am,  my little celebrations you are.

I live through yugas and this each beat of heart is you.

World architect I am,  my artistry is you. 

Oceans, my hands clasp.., the outflowing nectar is you.

Earth's eternal music I am, and my every breath is you.

I can grow billion parsec huge,  but that distance between my eyes is always you.

Oh Radha! Your absolute love I am and my everything pure is you....

Just a glance away

May be my this bond with the sky started when I was too young.  Too young to know and understand when or how it began. We have memories together which I don't even know had existed.  We might have started from unexpected meetings, when someone asked me to look up pointing at mystic stars or confusing cloud patterns. This might have lead to occasional glaces and then planned meetings.

 I grew and the sky grew closer to me along.  We have spent addictive nights and attractive days together wandering wild with the wind. We have sat back chilling under the breeze with stars and have let the sun color our faces tan.  We have watched moon phase in and out. We have seen passing clouds,  handled complex comets, fallible rainstorms and feckless weather patterns.  We have fallen hopelessly in love with innumerable sunsets.  And I know that we will continue to have more of all these in the days ahead.

But so much between me and the sky is not because we get to be along all the time.  In fact, our time together is too minimum to get enough of. It's because we have this instincts working. When ever the sky is alluring, it's as if I get a call from there above to look up.  Even during days when I am locked up inside,  something pushes me to peek out to glance at the beautiful sky. And that glance leaves me changed.  With enrichment.. With awe.. With all new zest.  With which I would run for few days, until we get to glance at it the next time. I also have a constant part of sky for myself..  The one through my window. There the sky is there for me always. During out of the blue 3 am conversations with pouring dreams and sleepless nights with soothing darkness , during early mornings with warmth and spicy afternoons with shade. Sometimes so clear, stary and moonlit. Sometimes wavery, heavy clouded and confused. Sometimes all blue,  sometimes grey and recklessly red sometimes.  But it's ever beautiful. Ya the sky..  it's there always, just a glance away.  So much there that I can call it mine!

The Art of Life

The Art of Diplomacy

You need this to win people . It's all about the knack of playing well with words at the perfect time. All great leaders are great orators first. The right words have remained as the spark that ignited rebellions and also the ultimate weapon that had ended many wars! Ever since language took shape as the means of communication, humans have fallen for words, women in particular. There can be nothing as seducing as a beautiful conversation. It's about telling what people want to hear, as my wise friend always says. Arguments are fine, they help you drag people into a conversation. But you are in serious trouble if you do not know to end it well. It is said that, truth can be stated in a thousand different ways. So why not be diplomatic and choose the nicest way to say it?

The Art of Pretending

This gets you viral. It's about how you showcase things. You had one wreck of experience that day, but you post it as a "hilarious adventure".  You are boiling with nervousness inside at your interview, but you pretend to be confident. Your sweet friends have planned a surprise party for you and you pretend that it was a great surprise. You well know that it was not funny, but you just smile away.. You pretend that you don't care anymore.., you pretend that you are okay.., you pretend that you are over it.., you pretend that you are happy..,You pretend, pretend and gradually you become!  The art is about being nice, making your first impression look good. This of course is just a time being mask, but it definitely helps you to start with, to quickly settle down into newness. Once you sink in, you can always be completely yourself. 

The Art of Choosing

Life is a tricky gamer. Haven't we all had times when everything happened at once. When all doors open at the same time and we didn't know which one to go for?  Making the right choice is a challenge always. There often comes a tug of war between following passion and fulfilling commitments. Not only when things are at stake, its equally important to take the correct decisions when everything is going good. And we need not always choose the "road not taken". We don't have to play the "being unique " game, forever. What is the point in doing "out of the ordinary" if that doesn't make us feel right? At the end, the art lies in choosing what makes us happy. It's about what we prioritise in our everyday routine. It's about knowing which reins to hold on tight and which to let go... 

The art of Patience

Sometimes all you can do is just "wait". It is during this time that our brain works tremendously. We will have bunch of ideas sparkling and all of those will seem fabulous. But we are badly tied up and won't be able to execute any. That is how time tests us.  It cripples down all the excitement. The wait for a result is hard. Even harder is the wait before we begin something. And the worse is the in between halt. Something that was started, but it took a pause even before it hardly reached anywhere. This holds true, both in work life and relationships. The art of patience is about how composed we are during that wait. It lies in working out endless number of times in our mind and never getting tired of it. It's about keeping the inner fire kindled until The Day actually arrives!

The Art of Acceptance

Everything gets down to this. The ultimate key to happiness. The first step and complete process towards self love. The Art of Acceptance. Say you played all the drama nice, you worked hard and smart, made the right choices and waited patiently. But still sometimes things don't work the way you wanted. Then is when you keep calm and learn to accept. Grass may or may not be greener the other side, but you have to quit bothering about that side and accept the way it is your side. And once you enter this realm of acceptance, infinite possibilities unravel. You bestow yourself with unmatchable power and master immense peace. Like nothing can pull you down.  You become the core of happiness and radiate pure joy. And that draws the entire universe towards you!

On another "Happy Valentine's Day"

The beach is brightly lit, red carpets drawn and round tables are beautifully set. Guests breeze, cameras click, gossips and giggles fill the air. Music is enriching the space and yet it's less soothing than the sound of distant waves. Like pearls, the bridegroom gleam upon the oyster white stage. She blush, he smiles and inside both adrenaline gush. Their long planned "destination wedding" was happening that day .

She is proud, she is tensed, she has all emotions at once. " Happy Valentine's day" he whispers as they exchange their wedding rings.  The crowd cheers and the party begins....

While back at home, her crony parents anxiously wait at the door, because their daughter still did not reach from office that day.

What to say, its just another "Happy Valentine's Day" !

100 days of motherhood 🥰

Room smell milk! and eventually you will get used to live with it. I once had some spicific likings, specially with coffee. I preferred it customized for me, with that thickness of milk, not too high or low, just excatly enough strong, aquduate jaggery and with not even a thin layer of cream. But now, just anything to quench thirst and sooth hunger is fine.

Whole house gets rearranged. Your room will now be surrounded with baby towels, sheets, toddler toys, wash cloths and wipes.  The security pins, wallpapers and screen savers, display pictures ..all gets changed. People's routine alter with just this one new member at home, specially that of the mother's. Your parents blash at you if you are not on time for him and you only laugh at the turn of things. "Sucks" feel exactly like the word means. But there is no better bliss when it pacifies his shrilling cry. There is so many times of feeding and changing during a day that you forget your left and right, the time, day and date. You are grateful for online shopping now than ever. A random advice from a friend or family would work magic for you and you would then wish that you had had a word with them earlier.

Sleep when the baby sleeps they say, but sleep doesn't come that way. Your watery eyes are mistaken for sleeplessness and you are glad about that. It's an emotional roller coaster at times and trust me , its just postpartum stress. Atleast when you blame it on that and it will feel a lot better. You get loads of personal time but you better think nothing then. Day used to start and end on phone screens. But now there is no difference between day and night, one starts and merges with the next day and gets over unannounced. Some mornings break so much unaware that you forget to brush. Dresses don't fit. Either you look like father pope or the top is as if you are pierced into it. Sometimes you get frustrated,  you look at yourself in the mirror desperately wanting that "you" back. But next moment he makes sound and gestures to look at him and you just forgive yourself for thinking so stupidly.

 Initially everything does hurt, but it's worth it. Every milestone is a struggle for the baby too. But you see him doing it, every single time he pushes so much hard without giving up. That inspires you. Your tiny tot teaches you so much. They teach us to forgive and forget. One moment they cry and the very next second they forget it whole and are with all smiles. Each day is a new learning from them. You draw strenght from him, for him. At the end "Anything for him" and that's only an understatement! 

What it feels like?

What it feels like?
To love but never being able to prioritize it..
To suffer pain but not fruits of it..
To see your foe just getting away lucky..
To get mislead when you almost reached..
To be the middle sandwiched between extremes..
To quit just a step before success..
To free fall and hit the bottom..
To confront with your demons..
To slip a step and fall of the cliff ..
To find all hopes turning into deception..
To feel your heart aching at a climax..

What it feels like
To love but never being able to prioritize it, and still feel immensely loved in return.
To suffer pain but not fruits of it, but grow stronger after every hit.
To see your foe just getting away lucky, but your friends stand by you always.
To get mislead when you almost reached but your instincts kept you going straight.
To be the middle sandwiched between extremes, and a handsome hand pulled you out.
To quit just a step before success, but your boss held back your resignation.
To free fall and hit the bottom , and not shatter but bounce.
To confront with your demons and not fear but tame them
To slip a step and fall of the cliff , and stretch your wings and fly
To find all hope turning into deception, when mum woke you up from a bad dream.
To feel your heart aching at a climax and that movie has a part II !

The Stars

Most melancholy are sung under moonlit nights because the sun superior is too bright to confront. But then, what if even Mr. Moon fails?

Thats why we have these scattered bits of undying hope called " Stars". Not with scorching blaze, nor with creases and wane but a spec of atmost shine they are. Eyed by all and yet they seem so undisturbed. Clouds and comets may come and cross, but they are the ones that stay. And the best part, at a comforting distance they stay. ...

They say people die and become stars. This could be true as they are much relatable to mankind. Like every individual, each one grabs its space and dazzle distinctly bright. Group within groups they too form, as beautiful constellations our early dreamers had drawn. And as a whole, they decor the dark, just by being in there, like people are supposed to.

When all envy their beauty, I envy their timing. Its night for all of them at once. There is no "meet and move on" for them. They get to twinkle on the same time and they are always on the same sky. The same vast sky where there is no "two different roads" and hence stars don't have to take different journey during their lifetime. And I envy that.