Cherish the moments

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Seperated but still love you

I hope it hurts you.

I hope your heart aches everytime.

When you hear my song.

You feel yourself staring out of the window.

Wishing one of the faces in the crowd would be mine.

Just so you can see me again.

I hope it hurts everytime it rains.

Since you still picture me.

Sitting by the window with a cup of coffee, lost in the pages of a new book.

I hope it hurts everytime you passby a bookstore

Because you know if I was there with you

I would drag you in the store then you would whine the whole time.

Getting jealous of the fact that books are getting more attention than you.

I hope it hurts when you are walking through a crowded street.

You get a whiff of your favorite smell.

You feel like burying your nose in my hair once again.

I hope it hurts every time you hear a giggle similar to mine, you try to visualize my face and the way it lit up to a joke you just cracked

Honestly I hope it hurts you , because I know I was not just an another name to you.

Death of a Bookstore

Death Of A Bookstore
The room is cold and sterile,

Bereft of sensations.

The walls exude a chill,

As a thin light through the window spills.
Casting pale shadows on racks,

Dry yet musty,

Where the tomes rest, in slothful idleness,

And volumes of tales, lost in translation,

Spineless and desiccated,
Paper backs and hard backs, in desolation,

Their timeworn leaves rasping sad stories of estrangement-

None to take, none to hold, none to own.
The bibliophile

Saunters in the empty aisles,

A loner, looking at

Straightjacketed books,

Dissociated and distanced by brackets.
Foggy titles on dusty covers and dusty jackets.

This world is spookish,

And anything but bookish.

Oh for that waft of warm scent!

Of bounded leather and printed paper,
Of steaming mugs and rustling leaves,

Of hushed tones and sunny spirits.

Alas! The bewitching hour is spent.
The bookworm’s beating heart stills.

The truth unveils,

Like an anticlimactic ending of a chapter,
It is now a local lore,

‘Death of a Bookstore’
Electronic earthworms can now chomp ‘n slurp away million bytes a minute to flashy pen drives as we relax getting a caffeine refill or hairdo.

Whether we get it all into our grey cells is another matter!

Era of the on demand literati has arrived.

When book stores die let electronic stores sprout!

More money in the latter if you ask me!

When you come 

Come unannounced sometimes 

When you are like free rhymes,

That comes creeping anytime. 
Come and remind me of my existence 

Call me by my name with persistence 

Flying like a broken kite in daylight 

Bring in smiling happiness bright.


Come like a bird on my balcony,

Chirps in dawn with sweet melody

Like the cold breeze kisses my cheek

When I feel exhausted and weak.


Come like the fragrance of petals 

Crossing through meshes of metals

Drown me in your tender presence 

I long for those liberated moments. 
Come like a child without inhibition 

Who comes to play pranks forbidden 

I need playful gestures of innocence 

When nothing matters but sensations.
Come with the gift of your vacant mind

Stealing some mischief of sunshine

Under the tree our hearts will swing

We will fly together on unseen wings.
Come to spend the day at leisure 

When our company is the only pleasure

Don’t bring a watch for time to measure 

Happy Marriage Anniversary 

A pleasant Surprise for you Di 

I know if you are reading this …you will come to know I am talking about the most wonderful day in your life …Every girl doesn’t forget it ever

HAPPY MARRIAGE ANNIVERSARY

Today is your Marriage Anniversary Di …I am sharing this post once more for you ..despite of my exam tommorow…you must be busy celebrating the same with Jiju…wishing you a happy married life forever.

Here’s  a pleasant surprise for you

How would you feel to know that I was present at your marriage ceremony even though we didn’t knew each other.

It was 22 May 2015. For first time I had come to Shanti Nagar…where my father’s friend Rakesh Soni once lived. Now he has shifted to Pune.I hate the humid and hot climate of Mumbai in summers as I literally get drenched in sweat.

I had just come to the venue Bapa Sitaram Temple  thinking it was a temple of Lord Ram and Godess Sita.But it was a temple of Saint Sitaram. At the same time there was a marriage ceremony going on.I felt the presence of someone very close to me.

Curiosity pulled  me towards the marriage pandal even though I was an uninvited person by both the parties.The feeling of someone close to me became stronger and stronger. 

I stopped. I saw you dressed in red transparent saree and blue blouse standing alongwith your sister.

I realised this just 3-4 days ago when I saw the photo your sister in one of your posts .She is an unique person and can be identified easily.

Your spouse wore a dark red sherwani.The remarkable thing was he hadn’t shaved yet he looked very handsome. The stage bore his name S –  –  –  – – H and yours written in yellow colour.

I could sense the feeling of happiness and satisfaction on your face getting married to a person whom you like most and at the same time a feeling of sadness for leaving behind your family… the persons whom you love the most.

I felt like I should walk upto the stage and  talk with you but since we were unknown to each other ..also I was a stranger and uninvited guest …somehow I controlled myself and walked away.

Yet happy to be a part of most important day of your life.

Introspection 

When I wear the wings of my dreams,

Then I sing the song of my life,

When I hum the tune of my wishes,

Then I write the enchanting words of delight.

Golden hair strands, roll over my forehead,

I carefully put them aside,

This is when, I look into my own dreamy eyes,

I turn to the keyboard, I smile and I write.

Flowers of ecstacy, spreads their fragrance in the air,
I look at the thorns, that pricked me, once in disguise,
Suddenly I realize, What I have inside,
The most valuable possession is life…

The curls of my hair, flutter in the air,

The lashes of my eye, blink and I sigh,
Looking at the past is a long lost lane,
I wandered here and there, never wanting to be sane…

Raindrops asked me to sit and introspect,
I love rains, I finally have to give them respect,
The winds moved and then took a new way,
I realized my life was simple, yet on a highway…

I look out of my long –glass-window pane,

I see someone running to me, I realize its rain!
I stepped in my own shows, removing the mask over me,
The shining face beneath was making a plea,

Then I realized…

Colors of mist may mock in pride,

Devils of past may ridicule in every premise,
But I look into the mirror,this is when I smile,
I know, I haven’t lost myself, I am a true being inside.

Editing 

Life is an unfinished book 

Future pages are still draft

Write, edit, erase, cut…rewrite it again and again to get make it a perfect book.

Every comma, full stop, semi colon, question mark, exclamation mark has a meaning. 

Each punctuation mark is powerful enough to change the whole meaning.

Check, recheck, edit, reedit every single line, word, phrase and punctuation. 

You should edit grammar and sentence structure as well because they can create or destroy the meaning

Editing is boring.

Editing is time consuming.

But it’s necessary to make the perfect book-life. Never regret for a bad first draft.  

Remember no draft is final till it is published.

Write and edit your book of life carefully to make your draft of life as a happy journey.

Life is not a film. There are no happy or sad endings.

Life is a continuous journey…like a river.

My sadness


On some days,

My sadness is small ;

As small as a teardrop rolling down my cheek.

And on the others,

It’s too huge to fit into my hands.

It stretches, it expands

And becomes a giant monster.

It visits me on lonely nights 

With lilies and chocolates.

It slits my skin

And pulls out my veins

Like guitar strings 

And plays a strange rhythm. 

It sings gloomy songs to me

And makes me eat bitter memories for dinner.

On some days,

It hides inside my pocket like a baby bird;

And on others,

It holds my hand

Like my lover

And we go out for a walk.

It makes love to me every night 

We blend into each other;

So perfectly that 

We become indistinguishable. 

But when I try to leave,

It screams,

Groans,

Cries,

Howls like a wolf.

It throws the crockery at me

And cuts my skin with a knife.

It bites me

And strangles me until I’m out of breath.

Mother’s Love

Behold the wonderful phenomenon of love as an Universal emotion. When love passes through the heart of the mother, motherly consciousness translates it into motherly love.

Reflection of love comes from the one Cosmic Love. The mother doesn’t know why she loves the child; the child knows not why it loves the mother. They do not know whence comes this love they feel for one another. It is the manifestation in them of God’s love; and when it is pure and unselfish, it reflects His divine love. 

True mother love is unconditional. We can say that in many ways it is more spiritual and therefore greater than most human expressions of love. God implanted in the heart of the mother a love for the child that is unconditional regardless of the child’s merit or behaviour.

Mother’s love is steady and unchanged.It is perhaps the human love closest to the perfection of God’s love. The true mother forgives her child even when no one else will. That kind of love exemplifies God’s love. He forgives His children no matter what sins they have committed. 

Who could have placed this love in the mother’s heart, save God?