My Hamlet

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A quaint place –
In my heart
safely harboured.
Donning rustic beauty
Puerile, pleasant and warmer.
The road to my hamlet
meters to thousand,
But if I ever to reach
Close my eyes
And peep deep,
I reach my destination.
The place made me what I am
And it comes with me to where I be.

Ask the One

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You smoke your life away
A hazy sooty release
for that instant rapture.
Ask the one
Consumed by incessant spasm
Devoured by fear
Of morbid uncertainty.
Of odds in living and dying.
Clutched with chemo
bidding to outrun Carcinoma.
Gasping for one lease,
Or a stroke of luck maybe!

You spent thousands
to have that illusion
called perfection.
The bridge of your nares(nose)
aligned symmetrical.
Another forsaken attempt
to fill the hollowness
of deep recess
gone astray.
Ask the one
Who lost her face,
The divine impression
of her uniqueness,
days until nineteen.
Perpetrated by cruelty
Unaware and unknown,
An attack acrid –
Harsh pungent reality
she exists and lives in.
Searching for her lost self
With leftover or no face maybe!

You have a portioned bite,
Not much to your fancy
neither upholds your fine taste.
A nibble here and dribble there,
Wide potpourri of savouries
until half picked other wasted.
Food catering to dainty senses.
Ask the one
The one with those
Ever urging growling stomach.
And the one with those
Ever famished wretched eyes.
scanning through the trash cans
every day and most of nights.
Hunting for source of sustenance
shreds, scraps or mouthful
anything will suffice.
Irony of misery in need;
Sharp biting pangs of hunger
even camouflages
filth, muck and sleaze.
And those ever beseeching prayers
amidst the rotting debris,
aching for nothing less than
a morsel of miracle.
Or something edible maybe!

You are as busy as bee.
Hundreds to manage
another fifty to oversee.
Little one came rushing –
overzealous, demanding and gushing.
You term those cry over nagging
and choose to disregard.
And at times uneasy and unwilling
you snort and lash it out.
Those ever seeking
attention and whims
takes a toll on you.
But at what price!
Ask the one
Emotionally barren
And physically depleted.
Feeling duped by nature
arid, abject and dispirited.
Latching to any
tiny ray of glimmer,
Like a drowning man
will clutch at a straw.
Little feet, kisses and snuggle,
A soul as chaste, gentle and raw.
All it Yearns for
A kindred bond and that soulful kinship,
A salvation from days of hardship.
A cackle which may fill
the unspeakable emptiness.
A silly tantrum which will spread
hue to blankness.
Or a chance to be called ‘mum’ maybe!

Life at times become undue and unfair,
Reasons may be many to whine and despair.
Behold and Bethink
The things which you take for granted,
Could be someone’s countless plea and earnest prayer.
Embrace your blessings
Indeed reckon them,
For the ripple it creates
will nourish your wounded soul.
And usher you to the world
of endless possibility out of nowhere.
Or else, there’s always at the least in your life
That One thing to be happy about maybe!

My Divine

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In the stones
On scriptures
In places
Through rituals
In object
And on subject
I seek
I hope
I dig
I pray
But in vain.
That light
That power
The divinity
That flower
Which blossoms
Inside my concrete,
That flame
Which burns
With each heartbeat,
That faith
with which
even death can’t compete,
That’s my GOD.
My life source
My energy resource
My only love
My sole companion
Who will never retreat(me)
In my prosperity or even defeat.

 
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But I will yell this…

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Even if it sounds cliche,
I will tell this.
I know,
You heard it ten times
But I will yell this.

She didn’t ask for it.
Did she?
She was thirteen
Fun, frolic and promises.
With hope abound
Filled with effervescence.
Very First time –
Those crude intrusive
Unwelcoming eyes
Pricked every essence of her.
The deeds of brazenness
didn’t stop there.
Only thrusted through acts
More lewd and outrageous.
Cat Calls and hoots,
Groping, stalking and abuse.
The years passed
Only names and faces changed.
Every step outside
Never felt normal,
But then with time
Even the wretchedness became natural.

How can her own body
Be the cause of offence!
The very frame
Which carries the soul
Under her skin,
And offers a living chance.
The soul which lays
Tattered and smothered
With years of untold hurts
And tainted reality that hovered.

The stained trust
In deep recess of her heart
will never be speckless.
For the want of
Dignity and Respect,
the battle continues regardless.
While the mind amends
For survival,
But the soul cries in disguise.
The Woman in her
now questions each and every eye.

Even if it sounds cliche
I will tell this.
I know,
You heard it ten times
But I will yell this.

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Love’s labour’s lost…

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Broken jar
Wasted dinner
In kitchen sink.
Shaken bed
Tumbled sheets
Pillows distressed.
Piles of magazines
Never been touched.
The only thing speaking
Is the TV
On the living room.
The only beats resounding
Is the flicker
On the mobile.
Mind just races
While the heart so bleeds.
Broken beyond repair
Love in despair.
Loneliness slumbers,
Unfulfilled yearnings
they are struck to.
Unforgiving hurts
they cling to.
When destiny mocks,
Trust is tossed.
Promises seems surreal,
And the heartbreak it cost.
Union of convenience breeds
As Love’s labour’s lost.

 
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Beauty Synonymous!

This poem I wrote while during the beginning of my blogging journey in which I have infused the names of some famous high-end woman’s luxury brands and finally a simple revelation which we forget in day to day jugglery of existence and insecurities of survival…

Courtesy: Shutterstock

I am a Diva.
Smoked my eyes with
Christian Dior 5 color palette.

A dash of Mac Ruby Woo
for my supple lips.
Hair sleek with chic spring hair-do;
Curly flirty amuse for my fingers.

Versace couture gown in sea green
To subdue my fiery spleen.
Time stands still
With Rolex on my wrist.

Cartier a carat or two
Upholds my alluring ensemble.
Modern Muse by Estée Lauder
Is the signature aroma I resemble.

With Gucci on my hand
And Jimmy Choo on my feet,
I feel invincible
And no one can defeat.

I feel flawless
I feel like a goddess.
But then I forget
much to my chagrin –
Three priceless words
Beauty lies within.

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Crazy little thing called…

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Love has its ardour
A vigour
resplendent with colour.
A thirst
quenched with fervour.
A rapture
ignited in passion.
A deepness
dwelling into endless.
Sometimes inane,
finding refuge in mundane.
To give
To soak
To heal
To forbear.
To vow
To confide
To offer
To endear.
Love is not surreal,
Yet at times
eludes real.
Being in love easy,
To love is harder.
And as much as
We chase thee,
It slips away
from us farther.

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