Memory

A City Glimpse

In the morning light the city lies silent,
Slowly it awakes with the rising sun,
And life moves along its streets,
Children walking to school,
Joggers on the run to keep fit,
Vehicles roaring to arrive first.
I walk with you by my side,
Through the lanes and roads,
Turning once in a while to smile,
Laugh or reply to something you,
Just told me with the wonder,
Of a child shining in your eyes.
I love the city in the morning light,
Only when you walk with me.

Being

When away from you thoughts gather,
And desires like creepers murmur,
In the dark cloudy sky to trees,
Until you come with your silence
And rain bursts in my space,
Where you are is my dream,
That I would exchange my being,
For being the air around you.

Springtime

You were a springtime in this uneventful life, 

Where your promises filled this heart daily, 

Your thoughts played like a chorus in a song, '

And in those days, you were like a demigod. 

When you reach out with your tender words, 

When you return to this life with your bounce, 

I forget that once your absence left me dead, 

And I celebrate your homecoming with delight. 

My fears are about what I'll do if you go away, 

For a promising life had collapsed in a day, 

When you and I parted our lives eons ago, 

To leave behind a life of longing and strife. 

You bring new thoughts and dreams to cherish

And I speak of us as if we are together again.

@ YJHD

meaning

Relationship

awareness

periods meme

periods

love

periods

late period

periods

memory

be humble

A song for you

Of all the songs that have been made,
For you, until they turn old and fade, 

This one is short and may be the best,
In this world, I love you the most.

Let new songs come and years pass,
I cant find a word that rhymes with pass..;-)
(well, I can, what i mean is I don't want to)

Don't have much to say,only new words,
Come and take place of the old ones.

Scent of rain

The earth forgets the scorching summer,

At the first drop of pelting rain

And its scents are translated into perfumes

Waterlily

Just to take this picture, I kept an alarm and woke up early to everyone' s surprise.  Anyway, this picture has come out so well out that I have  made it into my blog-picture. 

You and Me

You and I don't have anything common between us apart from our love for words. You love stringing words together; beautiful words that collide against my mind, when I encounter them somewhere in books. They show how you have been digging words, their meanings and their various tones to paint pictures.

While here I sit and sweat trying to express what is on my mind; for words fail when it comes to what I feel for you. So I try to explain mystery after mystery, glance after glance, suddenly remembered conversations that bring you clear before me.

You and I have been away from each other for too long. Sometimes, I find that the colour of your words have faded and died. It has nothing to do with me, I know, but the fact is that  it no longer makes me laugh or cry unlike earlier and I long for those unwritten words of yours.

A sacred space

For a time, life meant complete relaxation. Getting up late, making black tea and later lunch, listening to favourite songs (which prompted a question from a curious neighbour who thought it was a guy who played music), checking mails, replying to them and sitting to read on my favourite chair.

That chair was like a haven. The view was restricted with a wall, sometimes with a cat on it, the road you can see at a distance, the neighbour's houses (where at night, the sound of the lady scraping the last bit of food from the vessel for her husband could be heard in my room even with the windows closed) and a guava tree.

On days when I cleaned my room, after the work is done, I would sit and stare, first at my ultra-clean room with white floor (God, I miss my room, with the neatly arranged furniture, whose position I change during every cleaning session, though I am no blood relative of Tuglaq) and after a while at the scene outside. Once or twice I have seen the neighbour plucking the ripe fruits from the guava tree. Anyway, the ripe smell of its soft tasty flesh reached me all those times.

Once, on an idle day, I saw that this guava tree has a strange resemblance to a human form (with a well-shaped posterior) though upside down, with intertwined arms like an ancient supplicant praying incessantly to the gods. I even made a rough sketch of this sight. 

Now living with a husband who runs a chidiyakhana (he’s fond of pets and keeps two cages of budgies in the room) that drives me mad at times, I miss my room of single days- my neat sparkling room with a lot of space and with a good view.