Beautifully decorated and adorned with accessories… There I stand at the center, hiding my worries. Locked in a jar, torn and crippled… My existence laden with a soul, so tattered and painful. I can’t move much or breathe a lot… As the transparent jar won’t let me do that. The jar is imaginary, they say. …
“I don’t have time to hate the people who hate me; as I am busy in loving the people who love me!”
I stand here in a large room,On vigil for the students who write the exam.A room, with a lot of chairs,The chairs, occupied by the students.The students – Some lean, some fat,Some excellent, some averagers, some worriers,While some relaxed. The room, filled with silence,With the only sound of flippering papers.Students of all streams, I have …
In the deep silence of every noisy household, Silently lives a gentle soul. Unheard and unattended, who attends every chore. In the deep silence of every noisy household, There lives a gentle soul. The whistling of the cooker is spread across the rooms, But her hues and cries are nowhere. She doesn’t need an alarm …
That one month of ignorance,Which I spent in meditative trance,Praying for my mother’s health,Unaware that she had lost to death. Oh, that blissful period of ignorance,Whilst I thought she was battling for life,But she was not alive. Oh, that serene month of ignorance,A month of feeble hope and despair,A broken heart, which was hard to …
On your Birthday…. I am lost, lost in your thoughts! Lost in the shadows of your absence, So deep and profound. In the serene ocean of your memories… Like a sinking ship, I drown! DEAR MUM… I recollect the memories we’ve created… The laughter we’ve shared… The love you ushered upon me… The care you …
I feel proud to be a teacher… When I feel the respect and awe in my students’ eyes… Yes! I do feel proud. I feel proud to be a teacher… when I paint the canvas of my students’ hearts with lessons of wisdom… Yes! I do feel proud. I feel proud to be a teacher… …
Here’s to my daughter unborn… For whom my heart do always yearn. I wanted to feel you in my womb… You are the one with whom I would have loved to share my room. Your tiny fingers I could have felt… Your curly hair I could have swayed… I would have cradled you in my …
Kashmir, just the mention of the place throws up vivid images of heavenly beauty and calmness. As a poet rightly said, “Gar firdous, ruhe zameen hast, hamin hasto, hamin hasto, hamin hasto.” (If there is heaven on the earth, it’s here , it’s here, it’s here) But one can’t deny the fact that the thought …
“Love isn’t something that you can read in a book…. It’s something that you can feel in a touch or a look.”
“Loving yourself is not being selfish, it’s just understanding your worth.”