once upon a poem

Everything is God’s own creativity, a piece so antique..This is what makes everything that same yet unique?For what that is born, Has to die, Then why does it have emotions like being happy or to cry?If everything is same, then what is the difference?If everything is different, then how come the end is same?While things in our lives go in phases?Then why there is the moon, in a lover’s…

C’est juste une pièce de papier, on dit,Ce sont juste Les mots ce qu’on lit.Mais pour quelqu’un qui les écrit et pour quelqu’un qui les rit, ce sont les émotions..Ce sont les sentiments don’t les mots sont les traductions. C’était environ une mère qui ecrivait à son fils tous les jours, pour returner l’Inde,C’était la poste qui est le legende,Qui envoyait les letters à son fils pour les lire,…

It seemed to me, like a candle in the wind,The little sun, hovering at me,While the world is asleep and can’t see me. It’s that time, when none can see the sky,No matter how hard, they’d try.Many, in their room, to their loved one will propose,With a ring and a rose. And I and the sun, will be united again,To show the earth the magic,The magic of love, the life of comparison will come to life…

Holding hands is magical,For as it gives you hope, that someone’s there.Holding hands is magical, for as it lets you feel safe! But, a little baby holding your finger, and making you feel the world,Is completely priceless!It’s a different feeling altogether! A feeling that a new life is right there, in front of your eyes!A feeling that is hard to explain!A feeling that wants itself to refrain!A…

Les cahiers sont bons, parcequ’ils rappellent tout.Et nous, les humaines, oublient si tout, sans dire <<grâce à vous>>!! J’étais à Paris, venue çomme Assistant d’anglais, une enseignante,Et premièrement, ce n’était pas si vivante.Je ne connaissais rien à faire,Et c’est comment, j’ai rencontré les transgendres,Que je ne veux jamais oublier. Ils m’ont aidé, sans me connaîtee, sans aucun raison,Et…

And on that day, a mother was ready to bid an adios to her son,And sent him to fight against odds,In the jungle the war was supposed to be fought,And then, happened something, which nobody ever thought. All the people came to live with him in his exile of 14 years,Even those who were not that dear.All because Lord Rama had a great character,The one which made him, even today a great leader. He…

I came across a beautiful book on my way,A friend, a companion I got.In the bus, while the ways swayed,Came for what I prayed. The book gave me the secrets to live life happily,As living from home, isn’t easy, they say,But book had a whole bunch, of different todays. I read the book, and tears flowed by,But not with sorrow, but with happiness and joy.The joy, of coming out stronger, when life…

Long time ago, childhood, teenage and adulthood met for a dinner.Childhood began with nostalgia, happy and carefree it seemed,While the teenage seemed a little absurd,And adulthood was the one, who was listening to it all. Childhood recalled, what teenage failed to realise,While adulthood, was still confused, whose future it is, in disguise. Teenage discussed, how mental maturity built and…

Long time ago, childhood, teenage and adulthood met for a dinner.Childhood began with nostalgia, happy and carefree it seemed,While the teenage seemed a little absurd, And adulthood was the one, who was listening to it all.Childhood recalled, what teenage failed to realise,While adulthood, was still confused, whose future it is, in disguise.Teenage discussed, how mental maturity built and ruined…

It was a rigid rubber band,Strong enough, to hold things tight.And weak enough, not to hold beyond limits.It held the things tight, for a while now,Like the arrow with a bow.Waiting for the arrow to release,So that it could enjoy under the breeze.Took the band, the load, more than it could.Which probably, it never should.Broke the rubber band first, then the things apart,Many are still retained,…

Who protects the world, while keeping it all sane?What keeps the moon still in loop, while, it itself rotates insane.What would really keep the things in the world as they are,Who’s the one, to have such a power!!Is that a thread, that binds the things?Is that a glue to hold?Or is it, a simple clay, meant to amalgamate and mould?What is it, that joins the wonders of the world, in its beam?What is…

Took the flight from ending the year in one country, landed in the past in another,Time, there had been slower,Enough to welcome the new year there.Took the plane again to land somewhere,The Eve had just started there. Saw the new year entering in all places in different times,The earth’s same, yet in the places, time, still sublimes. Somewhere it’s the day, while we in the dark sleep,Somewhere…

It was a piece of paper,White as milk, and clean as whistle, it would be.Comes then a huge force of wind, makes it lighter enough to fly,And then, how hard it would try, it would fall.One side of it, would now have a dust to be seen,While the visible one, was the white, as it has been.Picks that paper, a noble person now.See. What happens now. Cleans the dust with his own hand, on the paper, The…

Sometimes, the switch is off, and so is the mood.The plug then steps in, and turns the switch on,And then the mood turns on, like the machine.It works and works and works, till the time we want,And then after some time, the electricity associated with it, starts to haunt.The machine works, the plug is inserted and the switch literally runs it all,But then, in excess all of it starts to fall.The…

    नयी  जगह , नया  शहर , और  अनजान  चेहरों  से  हुआ  था  स्वागत  मेरा , तब  मन  में  चल  रहा  था  माहान  भारत  मेरा .   किसको  पता  था  की  हवाईजहाज  की  उड़ान , मुझे  परिंदा  बना  देगी , और  में  यहाँ  पर , घोसला  ही  देखती  रह  जाउंगी .    हाँ  आता  है  मुझे  अपना  आँगन  याद , कही  न  कही , वही  तो  है  मेरी  बुनियाद . क्या  मैं  घर  बहार  छोड़  कर , दूर  आ गई  , आपने  आने  वाले   घर  के  और …

Water in the river is never the same, It flows like time…Flowing for the water, is like the game,Even if it gets catched, it knows that with flow, again, it will become prime.Nightmares that did haunt us in the past, Later become jokes that make us on which we have a laughing blast.Things that we don’t admit early, become those memories that we all adore dearly.Why is time that weird, that does…

Self love comes, when we grow up,It comes, when we miss people, without hiccups.It arrives, when we are lonely,It stays till that feeling becomes homely. Nostalgia still hits, when we look at that old playground, Still played, even if we were full of wounds. What happened to us, the days, probably better knew,And then we grew up, with friends, probably very few. Gone are those days, when…