I hold it true, whate'er befall; 

         I feel it, when I sorrow most; 

         'Tis better to have loved and lost 

Than never to have loved at all. 

~In Memoriam By Tennyson

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Cold eyelids that
hide like a jewel
Hard eyes that grow
soft for an hour;
The heavy white limbs,
and the cruel
Red mouth like a
venomous flower;
When these are gone
by with their glories,
What shall rest of thee
then, what remain,
O mystic and
sombre Dolores,
Our Lady of Pain?

-

When he opened his eyes, he saw an orb of light breeze through,
It was so quick, he stood staring at it and yet it vanished into thin air,
Something stirred inside of him, as though he had woken from a bad dream,
He gathered himself and turned to walk back into the chapel building
As he passed through the dark passage way and passed by the main altar,
He caught a glimpse of something unbelievable,
On the huge glass window, near the wooden cross, there appeared a woman's face, pale and somber
He stood still and whispered to himself
Rose.......?

-

The queen with her wide-brimmed hat
An inscrutable political dominance
For a game of uncanny throne
A mysterious tale of stabs of regret
A story that grips the readers
A scuffle for rising to the top of power
An assembly of kith and kin before her
To rule the world at the centre
The centre of British Colony
A wish to deactivate the identity
Demotivate the culture & tradition
Divert the tongue for a new language
For a new colony of others
To activate a workshop of empire
For the enhancement of capitalism
And domination of super- powers
And others Euro-western nations

-

It felt like the times had come again,
Re-living each and every moment with delight no one can ever compare to the present times,
When they had people to talk on and machines to mock on..
When they had books to read and no reels on feed!
When they saw trees green and had nothing called screen!
When one letter by their name would make their day and not the spam mails to ignore all day!
All they realized they had been squandering.. for nothing is as precious as time!

-

BY ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. 

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight 

For the ends of being and ideal grace. 

I love thee to the level of every day’s 

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. 

I love thee freely, as men strive for right; 

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. 

I love thee with the passion put to use 

In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith. 

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose 

With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath, 

Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

-

It is very often but our own vanity that
deceives us.

- Jane Austen— % &

-

Take me to a Victorian era

A poem by;

-

We can walk into Mumbai any day or any night.
But the mumbaite in you will never walkout.

There is so much history in this city.
This is a maximum city with so much mystery.

Here the buildings have a Victorian touch.
But we still live and love the fast life so much.

Come fall in love and make it large in our Nagariya.
Where everyone has a heart like Dariya.

-

Journey to the centre of the Earth

Down the hill I go,
Squeezing through the cracks
Looking at the tracks
Where many a trolley go.
Five years was I
When I first went
Into the burning womb
Of my mother.
Naked men there,
Naked women here,
Naked flame everywhere.
Round my stomach
Tightened the chain
Like the embrace
Of a lover clad in black.
Many a load
Did I carry
Until one day
I fell into the trolley dead .
Buried among the thousand coals.
A Black Face vanished among the blackness.
The naked men
Blinded by darkness
Left their incessant striking
And with their pick axes
Dug me a grave and buried me there alongside Tom, Lucy
And those yet to come!

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