• English Poetry

    The Semal and The Storks

    Each year come the Ides of March
    The Red Silk Cotton starts to bloom
    ‘Tis then that the waiting starts
    For the winged guests to arrive
    
    Somehow this cycle of nature
    Hast created for me a sense of normal
    Indicators that all’s well in the world
    The flocking birds and the blooming Semal
    
    This year too there was the anxious wait
    I wondered if, for the tree had bloomed late
    Woke up this morning and the cynic had died
    The flocking birds brought my hope alive
  • Hindi Poetry | कविताएँ

    बादल

    गुमनाम बिन पहचान फिरते रहते हैं ये
    कैसे अनदेखे अनसुने से घिर आते हैं ये
    उबाले समंदर के नहीं बनते है ये
    बिन मौसम तो कम ही दिखतें हैं ये
    
    मुरीदों की सौ सौ गुहार सुन
    कभी चंद बूँदें तो कभी बौछार बरसा जातें हैं ये
    ये बादल कभी सफ़ेद नर्म रुई से
    तो कभी काले धुऐं की तरह छा जातें हैं
    जाने कितनी उमीदों का बोझ ले कर चलते हैं ये
    अब के सावन उम्मीद लिए एक बादल मेरा भी होगा
    सूरज की रोशन गर्मी को मध्धम करने का बल मुझ में भी होगा
    
    कभी तेज़ चलने तो कभी रुख पलटने का दौर मेरा भी होगा
    जम के बरसेंगे बादल जो अब तक नहीं थे गरजे
    आसमान पे छाने का मज़ा कुछ और ही होगा
    
    वक़्त के अम्बर  पे एक हमसफ़र मेरा भी होगा
    अब के सावन उम्मीद लिए एक बादल मेरा भी होगा
  • English Poetry

    An Imperfect World

    Someone once pointed out
     There are no straight lines in nature
     No perfect circles without doubt
     Why in life then do we seek
     A straight path leading to the peak
     A shower made of perfect spherical drops
     Guarantees not a bountiful crop
     When rivers flow they bend and wind
     Don't they know
     The shortest route between two points is a straight line
     We only think of stemming the flow
     Tis us who builds dams and dykes
     Seeking logic and reason we pretend
     That we were here by design not accident
     This human urge to achieve perfection
     Is what causes grief and gives us strife
     Pray someone tell me is it really worth the sacrifice
     As utopian as it may sound
     If this race to be the best didn’t exist
     If good were really good enough
     If greys were accepted not just black and white
     Would it not be a simpler world
     An imperfect one but rather nice
  • English Poetry

    The Tempest

    I wake up to a beautiful dawn
     The birds are chirping signaling morn
     The wispy clouds floating in the sky
     Give no clues of the night that went by
     Innocuously they had gathered
     Getting darker by the day
     The quiet before passed unnoticed
     Before long it started to pour
     The winds roared and howled all night
     As the clouds spat venom with all their might
     Trees uprooted the rivers broke bank
     Entire settlements without trace they sank
     Oh! What a tumult it caused
     The destruction that it left in its wake
     The tempest has now blown over
     It's time to pick up the pieces
     And salvage what you can
     Rebuild things make them better
     This time stronger than when we began
     Got to keep moving forward
     Ups and downs are all part of the big plan
     The choice is ours and so is the lesson to learn
     We can keep looking at the strewn leaves
     Or decide on which leaf to turn
  • English Poetry

    Moonlit Heart

    The Moon hung low last night
     The gentle blowing breeze
     The melodic sound of bristling leaves
     Pushed a poets heart was under a spotlight
     Melancholic as the setting was
     My moonlit heart strummed a forgotten yet familiar tune
     Vivid memories filled the spaces in between
     Of a love long lost never to be seen
     The moon with its blemishes and all
     Stood testament
     That nothing in this world is perfect at all
     For in love you are destined
     The higher you soar the harder you fall
     Love sent a message through the receeding moon though
     It won't be long before I go around and am back again
     I'll fade out of your sight
     Sure enough I'll be back full and bright
     Strange is the power love yields
     Can cast as a spell of magic
     Or drive you to the depths of misery
     Inexplicable, inescapble as it is
     The low hanging moon had thrown a curve ball
     Reminding me of a time gone by
     And telling me
     Its better to have loved and lost
     Than to have never loved at all