Serendipitous Musings

Archive for the ‘poetry’ Category

​Can a Soul be Sad and yet not Dark?

Yes. And no. Honestly I do not know. Because souls are beings. They define our very existence. Souls are neither happy nor sad. Souls are just souls. Souls are life and a proof that we are alive to feel the emotions of sadness and happiness. Darkness is an attribute we associate with emotions of sadness, jealousy, envy while happiness, bliss and laughter are the light in our lives but two contradicts can very well coexist. How I cannot explain but you can feel them. Being sad doesn’t make you a dark human or a dark soul because a sad person either gives up on life and commits suicide or he uses his sadness to create art. Art that will be so powerful and passionate that it will make you feel uncomfortable. Dark poets are always celebrated yet criticised. Paradox? Irony? Maybe. Because some things are so intertwined that it’s impossible to pinpoint. Fascinating are those that radiate sunshine through their wounds of hurt and sadness. And divine is this thought that gives meaning to art and life. 
My dear, souls cannot be dark, souls cannot be sad. Souls can only be drunk. How? Ask the Nightingales.

Advertisements

हवा-ए-इश्क

सुनो?

आज हवा ज़रा ठंडी है, करीब आजाओ,

तुम्हारा हाथ थामना है।

तुम्हारे हाथों की गर्माहट में मानो, ज़िन्दगी का सुकून है।
And when you look at me with those eyes,

There’s a fire that lights up inside the cells of my body and want to embrace you in a sudden fashion so that when my head rests on your chest, I listen to the song of your heart singing love songs.
तुम मेरे अंदर वो एहसास जगाते हो, जिसे मैं खो चुकी थी,

तुम्हारा होना ज़िन्दगी को गुलज़ार कर देता है।
हो सके तो मेरे प्यार के गुलाब में मोहब्बत की खामोशी बन जाना।
I’ll love you in silence. You just keep the windows open when winds come to say hi. 
फिर जब किसी दिन कोई हवा का रुख तुमसे मिल जाए, समझ लेना के मैंने प्यार भेजा था।

-Neha

Flow of Life

wordpressIn this journey of life,

we all flow like some semi-solid liquid,

slowly moving on because we have to

but resisting change too.

In the process of growing up,

we feel like grown ups.

Life has become a bit stable

when we have so much work on our tables.

Workaholic is what I am becoming,

Sunday’s sleep is what feels like the homecoming.

Friendships are few and happy

Love life is as non-existent as the battery in the lappy.

“Ambitious ladkiyon ki zindagi mei pyaar k lie jagah kahan”

Profound are such discussions with dear girlfriends,

This poem will now end.

“Jeena yahan, marna yahan

Iske siwa, jaana kahan.”

Lost Star

Screenshot (107).png

It’s you and I sitting on a bench looking eye to eye,
Your fingers entwined with mine and there’s purple color in the sky.
The angels of the universe might have liked the purple of your shirt as much as I do.
Your presence offers comfort and fear because with you I don’t know if I am in my comfort zone because you’re challenging at every step. Loving you is like a ride I am not prepared for. Being loved by you is a dessert I have never tasted but want to but at the same time I am afraid of spoiled taste of beautiful single life.
You’re my vulnerability. Looking you in the eye sets my soul on fire. Your fingers put my heart in a frenzy choir.
You’re my biggest strength and my worst weakness. With you, my vulnerabilities are what I witness.
I wish I could tell you, I could never really have you.
I wish I could tell you, I could never let go of you.
You’re my lost star in galaxies of this heart.

Close

img_6592

Image source: The Internet

“Those brown eyes shine like the stars when they close,

Those fingers of yours fit into mine like feathers closing,

Those lips of yours are like rose petals kissing me good night.”

 

Dear love,

I like for you to be still in silence,

where the evenings close by the beach

and we are not in each other’s reach.

Let our hearts communicate through the universe,

and let our hearts remain open for love.

And when one day it’s raining, you’ll find me close in your arms.

And our love will create a home so warm.

And then those stars, feathers and rose petals are all mine

We make love as pure as red wine.

Butterfly

11811518_886936214674779_8032091432457021315_n

With spring fading away and summer sun shining, there are clouds that are creating noise seeking attention because nobody seemed to talk about the beauty of rains and winds that spread heavenly aroma. When one is in love, one is crazy. And rains bring out this eternal hopeless romance within me. On days when I am chasing my dreams and looking at the dreamcatcher by my bedside with the sound of the rain and soft humming of the wind chime, I am reminded of you. You’re not here with me and sometimes you are a figment of my imagination. This perfect soul mate with whom I want to share my Rumi with. Sometimes you seem real like a fairy tale. You are the butterfly kissing the flower that my heart is and then flying off in the garden with your pretty yellow wings. While I am the sunflower and sometimes I look like a daffodil dancing in the rain when you slowly suck my nectar leaving your footprints all across. This tale of love is as bizarre as this unexpected rain. On some days romance doesn’t sound so vain. Close your eyes and let my love reach out to you through this rain.

World Poetry Day

fountain pen on text sheet paper with rose

Poetry, I discovered poetry in my first year of college. I always used to write a diary as a kid and often rhymed unintentionally, but college made me realise I could write and that has been one of the most amazing discoveries of my life ever because that’s how everything changed. We are all born artists, it’s just that we need to realise, and we have been doing poetry ever since we came into this world.

A child who babbles is a poet, creating tunes like “aaaababababa” or gurgling or just laughing, it does sound like music, right? Well, kids cry too but that’s a rant if you see, they don’t have the vocabulary to rant so they cry. But slowly this “inbuilt poetry” is taken away from us. We are taught nursery rhymes which we memorise but we don’t know the stories behind them. Do you know the story behind the Humpty Dumpty?

 

“Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

Humpty-Dumpty had a great fall;

All the king’s horses and all the king’s men

Couldn’t put Humpty together again.”

 

Humpty Dumpty is a canon ball used in English Civil War and this poem refers to this. For the complete story, figure out yourself. I just wanted to plant a seed of curiosity.

 

But as we grow up, our education system gives us direction towards science, maths, history, economics and other academic subjects. A child feels accepted when he or she is good at mathematics and hobbies like singing, dancing, poetry, painting are appreciated but they are not properly encouraged from a career point of view but what I believe is that one can truly be happy if he or she earns a living out of his passion for life.

 

 

To quote Robin Williams

 

“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for.”

 

It is often said that a man turns into a poet when he is in love because darling, loving is our basic nature and when are in love, we are connected with the universe and our soul feels alive and poetry flows like the river flows from mountains to the sea and that poetry is pristine. I started writing poetry when I fell in love with the idea of love and I have written some really cheesy poetry and I could not really evaluate its content and emotions until I came out of that dreamy phase, some were nice, some were sweet, some were profound and some were just, well, let’s just not discuss them. I was naive and sentimental and can be allowed to sound a little mental.Poetry is like a flowing wave, you don’t write poetry, it comes to you. And sometimes you do write just for the sake of it or because you have to write it for a purpose but poetry is beautiful when written drunk and natural because then it is just an outlet of emotions and all emotions are sinless even when they talk about sin. It is extremely necessary to read and listen to poetry when you start writing poetry because only then you understand the difference between writing for yourself and writing for others and for recognition as a poet. And it is good to be critical about one’s own self, given the fact today we have platforms to express, and to be honest, people are writing anything and everything and even getting appreciation which often gets to their heads and in the process, the beauty and the craft is lost.

 

This World Poetry Day, read something beautiful and if you have not read any poems before, start with Ruskin Bond I would say because he would charm you with his simplicity and will take you on a dreamy breezy ride and then my friends it would be hard for you to come back from his beautiful world. And if you are a poet and poetry lover, well I need not say anything, just find me and we will together share some time and create poetry of our own and let not the time pass by.

Carpe Diem!

Seize the Day.

IT ISN’T TIME THAT’S PASSING

Remember the long ago when we lay together
In a pain of tenderness and counted
Our dreams: long summer afternoons
When the whistling-thrush released
A deep sweet secret on the trembling air;
Blackbird on the wing, bird of the forest shadows,
Black rose in the long ago summer,
This was your song:
It isn’t time that’s passing by,
It is you and I.

-Ruskin Bond