Skip to main content


In the fierce and feverish wind
You came and gave a shelter
To my trembled, trampled and gloomy beam of my life
 In the light of my own beam
I saw your radiant face like a sun-rise in my darkened heart
My expression flowed, wiping out all the layers of deceptiveness
And softened the hardened rock 
burdened on my chest due to life-long deposition
Of rules of Good and bad; 
Of discrimination of beautiful and ugly
In the layer-less conscious of my being
I saw the transparent bareness of my own being
Felt the love flowing in the veins in place of blood
Heard the music of my soul crooned by my heart  
And vibrating the tiniest cells of my body
On the sweetest rhythm of Life
I can’t say...How lively the words become
When my love drenches the words coming for you
When I see in your lovely comely eyes
I often wonder...I am seeing Me or You...


Tweety said…
i have just one word for it...WOW..
Beyond Horizon said…
AWW...DIS IS SIMPLY give rhythm 2 life...we enjoy d tunes...vibrates our heart...n feet alwys tap 2 sweet lively soothing sound of it :)
Vikram Karve said…
Keep Writing.
Romeo Das said…
That was one of the most beautiful post I have read lately. Loved your way of writing :)

Keep writing such posts.

Hope you like my post - When love calls
ana said…
beautifully written........Keep writing
Roshmi Sinha said…
Please promote my post: "GPRS ko Tata. 3G? Buy. Buy." @ IndiBlogger.


It is for the "3G Life Blogger Contest".

P.S. In case you are not an IndiBlogger member... it will take only a minute to register and promote.


Popular posts from this blog

Women-Empowerment (A Short Story)

Her spectacle ridden red eyes were trying to run away from the crowd as soon as possible. Every person was looking so alien, so dreadful.  Her heart was pounding so fast, it felt it could come out anytime. She closed her eyes; took a long-breath; chanted a prayer, perhaps to stabilize her trembling soul. But it was of no use. In the high decibel of the noise she had already lost her ability to hear her own words. Somewhere at some meters away she found a corner.  She moved towards the corner with her shuddering legs but alas! Her blurring eyes were proving too difficult to keep open. She fell down and in a few hours she was laying against white bed-sheet in the government hospital. She didn’t know who took her there.  She moved her eyes everywhere to search some known faces. But there was no one. Finally she closed her eyes. So how are you feeling now? She heard a male, soothing yet concerned voice, but not sure if it was for her or someone else. She opened her eyes slightly...As the ima…

Begging Future

Scientists believe that after a certain period especially childhood, our mind does not develop; it just gathers knowledge, makes it experiences and learns new things.Freud, the father of psychology claims that till that age, the way our mind gets shaped; it lasts for our whole life and defines our behaviour and character. So, the important point which I want to draw is that childhood is the most crucial period which decides and defines our future.
To grow a child, is an art, the most beautiful living art of existence. But unfortunately, everyone doesn’t want to reveal his art as they have never felt the joy of this art Or maybe they would have work more prior to this. So their creation is not perfect. A child needs care, love, humbleness, spontaneity; which most of people would be mistaken by fulfilment of economic needs. Well, a good school can substitute the role of parents to an extent but not completely.
In case of India where good schools and perfect parents are a distant fantasy f…

LAKSHMEE- A short story (Guest Post)

Many years have passed since she left this imperfect and unjust world, but still she floats around in my memories time to time. Today I have decided to tell the story of Lakshmee as was perceived through my eyes. Lakshmee was born as a first child in a family which had seen a girl child after two generations. Although a boy would have been more welcome in this case also, Her arrival in this world was tolerated or I dare say welcomed in much better way than many of other girls had in my village. At that time you could guess by the silence and gloom at home that a girls had arrived or by noise of celebration that a boy had been born. A feast was arranged as celebration for her birth which was generally reserved for boys. Her grandfather christened her Lakshmee, consoling his son that she will bring prosperity, material and money as well as many boys to family.
She was a very lovely child with plenty of smiles and comfortable with anyone wishing to carry her in his/her arms. Since she wa…