Words

I stretch my fingers, But mind says 'No'; Voice of my loved ones, Trails me as an echo. Persuading my heart, To sway away from phone; Keep it down, You live in a different time zone. Different time zone, I fumble in my thoughts. Morning, noon and night; I am out of sorts. It's perfect here, Too perfect for me, Like dead flowers adorned as a potpourri. Drowning in the timeline, Submerging in seven vast oceans. No distance in the world, Can cause this massive erosion. A part of me, my soul, Never left my house courtyard. If ever you want to collect me, my pieces, You know where to start.

Our personality will lie obscure, Let the righteous acts  guide the soul. Amidst the scattered parts of life, We shall help those  who have no means to recourse. This post is in support of    Protsahan , a NGO which is helping the underprivileged  through  education and creativity. Please join and be a part of this endeavor.  Connect with Protsahan on Facebook!

“ Words, they are burning inside all of us, dying to come out. ”...Someone quoted this to me on my Indiblogger thread. And, I believe, it’s true for every writer. I read a lot and I have read all the works of Shakespeare, Robert Frost, Jeffery Archer, Sidney Sheldon and Chetan Bhagat, to name a few. Not only books, I love music as well. From Mozart to Beethoven and from R. D. Burman to A. R. Rehman, I soak myself so much into their work, that at times I start comparing. At times, I feel Beethoven’s work is louder than Mozart’s. And, Rehman lacks the earthy feel which Burman’s music carry. The moment I become judgemental, I die as an artist. But then I think, they all should thank me for judging, comparing and  criticizing . Beethoven should thank me for listening to ‘Moonlight Sonata’ so many times and saying that it has a boring beginning as compared to ‘Symphony 9.’ And, Sidney should thank me for hating ‘Sands of Time’ as I know he produced marvels like ‘Tell me your dre...

शाम से तकिये पे है पड़ा, ये ठरकी मन बावरा! कमरे की रौशनी मद्धम करके, सांसों के उलझते शोर में, चादर की सिलवटे गिन रहा, ये ठरकी मन बावरा! उसे बोलो आए थोड़ी देर से, खाव्हिशो को होने दे ज़रा धुआं,  लिपट के नाम से उसके बैठेगा तब तक, ये ठरकी मन बावरा! पिघलेगे दो जिस्म काली श्याही सी रात में, और सुलगते हुए जिस्मो की आग में, बूँद बूँद समेट लूंगी उसके प्यार को इस तरह, बस कल नाराज़ न हो मुझसे, ये ठरकी मन बावरा!

All dressed up...I was walking by your side, Comforting myself in your eyes. Should you come near my skin? For my thoughts have taken a stride. With femininity, I hunched on, Your lips were on mine. I read your movements...As I am your girl, This all makes our love divine. You lifted me in your arms, For this…I have no words. I inhale your passion...I exhale it too, To feel you inside my body was not enough. With my dress on the bedside now, Can I say something to you? No matter how I look, I love dressing up for you. Click and read ~All Dressed Up - I~