It could be as simple as
sitting in your window
waiting for the night to fall in
I don't even realise within a minute
how the October evening turned into
the bitter cold of December
The wind is howling
like this swirling storm inside
Turn away and slam the door
Let the storm rage on
The cold never bothered me anyway
It's good to see how some distance
makes everything seem small
And the fears that once controlled me
can't get me at all
It's time to see what I can do
To test the limits and break through

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What's been rejected by us
often can be a triumph card.
The sad thing is that we don't realise it
all at once and it slips out of our hands.

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Do you know
there is a greatness in being involved,
perceive that feel of completeness evolved
during the four days of Durga Puja
here comes the holy mother,
the melody of her arrival rings in our heart.
we, all celebrate togetherness in this occasion
is like blessings
in the fragrance of parijat,
ambience amplified by the aroma
of warmth and love
emanating from puja pandal
perfectly stored for the fall and winter months.

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There is a story behind every door
this door bears witness to memories
old doors are silent languages.
many unspoken words,
unfinished loves
that never came to fruition
even though they had an ending,
unprocessed stories
that still cling to the past,
yet fresh to be served.
the door of a house is not just wood,
an association of memories.

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The city is sprawled out beneath them,
a rainbow of earthen hues
and bright splashes of colour.
Let your mind wander, unveil,
this festive season
in every fold of the saree,
cling to your body,
the stories are hidden.

Puja is here, let's give a cheer!

Have a wonderfully happy and cozy autumn filled with golden leaves and pumpkin spice!

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An unfinished chapter
and its two characters together in one frame again.
What happens at the end?
Will the two characters really find fulfillment?
Or, will they choose their own path in their own way?
Reality is probably hard.
Fairy tales always remain fairy tales.
A suppressed pain in your chest
wounds you every now and then.
It becomes your lifelong companion.
Every moment you have to convince yourself
whatever happens is for the best.
Nothing better could have happened in life.
probably this is called destiny.
Is that really true?

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To lie sometimes on the grass
under trees on a summer's day
listening to the murmur of the water,
or watching the clouds
float across the sky,
nowadays a waste of time
but once some of those
very simple, natural, captivating beauty
with a bit of anecdote
would have given rise to two-liners.

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The smell of rain
The sound of the ocean waves
The sound of wind in a primeval wood
my poetry was born in between....
If you truly get in touch with these feelings
in such a way you feel in touch with true life,
your roots that is meditation.

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Listening to the rhythm of the falling rain.
Finding beauty in the raindrops.
Puddle jumping like a kid again.
Raindrop melodies and puddle symphonies
ain't that sound like peace?
Finding solace in the rhythm of the rain.
Raindrops are the perfect lullaby for a restless soul.

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A faint hope
arises in middle
Kingdom of heaven
would be gained!!!

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