Us!

My soul met your soul
As poet discern words for his poem
We met like torn pieces of our past
For the happiness that will forever last
The long evening walks, and purple haze
Orange hues of sunset, and your gaze
Warm hugs on winter nights
The prolonged kiss till the twilight
Soft smile of your eyes beneath your glasses
We were different than masses
Our stars were meant to meet
And become a galaxy
Our hearts were meant to meet
To become the Universe!

August Rain!

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Regular office day (not near a window) seems mundane!

It’s 12’o noon and a regular day at office. Half day is passed by and few hours are left to finish her day at office. She takes her beautifully painted magenta colored coffee mug by India circus, in her hands. The warmth of the cup relieves her from chilling office cubicle. Rain pours down from the sky, and mist covers the window by her seat as she sips her favorite rose green tea. She isn’t fond of green tea but she isn’t fond of masala tea or coffee either.

She looks out of the window from the 12th floor of her office building. She sees a man running in the rain. She sees a bunch of colleagues going to the famous sutta corner of cyber hub. She sees a sari clad girl walking slow, taking each step carefully and protecting her saree from getting spoiled in rain. Soon her mind wanders in her own world and she is drifted to her thoughts.

Thoughts that come rushing to her every now and then. Though she works in a big MNC and she is always surrounded by lot of people around her but she still feels lonely. She escapes from eyes of her colleagues and start scribing something in her notebook. No one knows her habit of scribing. No one ever noticed. At least she thought so. Unaware of the fact that there is always someone watching you and admiring you for who you are.

She keeps her mug down and picks up her pen. She is fond of pens. Those fancy pens that flow as smooth as butter on paper. Every time she visits a stationary shop, she admire at the shine of those fancy pens but their price leave her crestfallen. The one she is holding is a regular smooth flow ball pen. She likes it too but someday she wish to buy one of those fancy pens.

She stares at blank paper of her thin spiral notepad, the one that employees get at office and a check on count of it for an employee is kept. She stares at the blank paper for a long time, the noise, the people, and everything around her has come to a standstill for her and she starts writing something on it. There are no thoughts in her mind just her pen and pain; and she starts scribing whatever comes to her mind. Most of the times her writing comes that way. It just come from nowhere and makes a perfect sense to her, describing her solace.

She leans down and keeps her head on her left hand on which she is wearing her father’s Fossil watch that has her father’s initials inscribed on it. She is a watch lover too. No, she doesn’t like fancy watches but she is fond of simple watches made by watchmakers. She wishes to wear world’s best watchmakers’ watches on her hand. She watches her hand flowing on the paper and writing words. The curves of words gives her immense pleasure. These words and curves belong to her, she thinks. Her love for writing is from her childhood days that started from first poem which she wrote for her mother. She had a flair for creating verses but travelling made her a story teller. She now enjoys creating and writing stories. She tries to find stories in every moment, in every person she meets.

When she is wrapped in the blanket of her thoughts and spilling out words from her mind, there’s a guy sitting right across her seat and watching her. He is a shy guy from a different state with a different language but the same fire for travelling is burning in his heart as hers. He doesn’t know if she too is fond of travelling but he is swayed by her simplicity, her cotton kurtas and bindi that sticks between her bushy raw eyebrows.

Watch this section to know what unfolds in their lives.

Thoughtful Friday!

Courtesy - Google

Do not categorize a person as fat or slim, tall or short, fair or dark. Let the person be himself or herself. On one hand there are posts about breaking the stereotypes. On the other hand the same websites are stereotyping the body size and color. Social media is taking us away from respecting individual and celebrating individuality. We all are living a story written by God Himself. And as every writer wants his story to be a success, God, too wants His every story to be a success. Some get success early in life and some get late. Do not stop. Have faith! And walk the path of struggles to achieve that success. Pray for your and everybody else’s strength to live their story with dignity. Be kind!

Efflux of emotions and words!

She and Stars!

She and Stars!

Mending Life With Gold!

I hanker for exploring the stuff. Whenever and wherever I get time, I get hooked to “Electronic Brain” kintsugiand start surfing the net for piling up the information in the stack of my brain. So I came across a word called “Kintsugi”. It’s a years old Japanese tradition of aggrandizing the damaged ceramic pots by filling the cracks with gold. They believe that when something’s suffered damage and has a history it becomes more beautiful. How true is that! All our life, we keep praying for our joys, keeping ourselves away from sorrows. Not realizing the paramount importance of our pain in shaping our personality and attitude. Life is a roller coaster ride with ups and downs. Don’t fear if it takes you down. Pain demands to be felt. I know this is easier said than done. But the best lessons of life are learned in pain. None of us are protected from the hardships of life. Everyone has a story to tell which has made the person stronger and confident.  Pain might be God’s own way of mending our lives with gold. So next time if you are in pain, don’t be afraid, be patient. Let thy fill your life with gold. And show the world, gleam of burnished gold, which will make your life more meaningful. More beautiful! Life is Beautiful!