There's no space to fear, negativity
And thought of backing off.
Hope makes you stand strong,
Hope constantly reminds you
That you're "hoping" for a reason.
The reason can be as simple as reaching the 10k steps
In your run this week,
Reading a book or doing something big.
Hope makes you work on your goals better.
It's one of the best motivators.

-

Me looking at my writeups after more than 5 months of break.

-

'Because I want to.'

'Why?'

'You're the only one left and I don't wanna lose you.'

-

Running after that
Beautiful bright blue butterfly,
Without a slight idea
Where it'll take me to
But I enjoy chasing it,
As my feet touch
The lush green grass
And to the either sides
Are the tiny & colourful wildflowers.

(Life feels beautiful not just when you're around,
but even while chasing after you!)

-

इस फूल की पंखुड़ियों में बसे है
तमाम लोग;
परिवार, दोस्त और रिश्तेदार।
पत्तों में छुपे हैं वो,
जिन्हे तुम बस जानते हो;
और डंठल सा तुम्हे संभाले हुए है
वो एक इंसान,
जिसपे किसीकी नज़र भी नही पड़ेगी,
लेकिन जिसके बिना
ज़िंदगी का ये खूबसूरत फूल
खिल भी ना पायेगा।

-

He makes you forget
The good times so that
You stay on ground,
And makes you remember
The bad times so that
You be grateful for
Whatever you have.

-

I was broken and shattered.
It seemed almost impossible
To gather those crushed pieces
And stand up again,
But you helped me;
Gave your hand to get up
And wiped my tears
Gave talks of motivation
And made me walk again,
Away from all the miseries,
From the world full of hate and negativity
If it wasn't you;
I would never find the way out
From my gloomy world,
Not getting to see the rays of hope ever...

-

'Didn't you see how people were staring at us?'

'So?'

'It feels weird. Really weird.'

'Come on!
You're just 10 inches shorter than me!'

-

The half of me
Craves for the half of you,
Both our halves
Will make it one
And even if someday
We have to part our ways;
Those half parts
Of you and me
Will stay, forever!

-

Poetry doesn't always come out of the unwrinkled, expensive papers and rarest of the fountain pens;

Sometimes it leaks out of the ripped heart, body which has turned numb to every type of pain.

Sometimes it oozes out of the lungs which can't keep the trammeled screams inside anymore.

Sometimes it's sung aloud through the lips of happy songs ,
And sometimes silently expressed by the language of love through those pairs of eyes.

Who says poetry is only written/expressed through pen or paper?

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