Remembering Her Eyes

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Remembering Her Eyes

Remembering her eyes gleaming like the sun across the waves on the beach, he could still smell her rosemary perfume as she put her head across his chest. He could still picture her beautiful smile, it was not the movement of her lips he cherished but the way her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, all of which smiled in unison at the sight of him.
Today, he witnessed the same perfection, but he knew it wasn't for him but for another.
Wandering aimlessly thinking about nothing but reminiscing, he was lost. Unmade, was how he felt. He knew he had lost a piece of himself as he saw her drifting towards another, into her new bubble of happiness. Little did she realize, she had burst his. He wanted to live in his memories. To love her in his memories, the only place where she loved him too.

About The Author

The author has requested us to keep his/her identity secret. 

Anonymous

His Eyes Captured

Posted Leave a commentPosted in Poetry

The smile of the child in her tears, the smile of the last goodbye amidst the sorrow of parting,

He adjusted the focus right and got the curve copied clear

Decoding the beauty obscured by the common stigma,

Looking beyond the fictitious charm, spotting the lost enigma

His was the ability to find the joy of victory in the trembles of fear.

While all hurdled to spot the shooting star, he stood apart to bring out a story of the hiding moon,

While all cupped their hand on their foreheads to see sunset

He waited indifferently till the dusk and hues of the day met.

While all stopped to see the peacock flaunt its glory,

He stopped to shoot the little creature in the mud, working in its self-made winery.

With his only instrument that could in silence record volumes

He mastered its use to chase those moments which could make eternal memories

And trained himself to imprison the mystery of the galaxies.

And then on, his eyes captured the sights that emotions could not spell

His eyes captured the emotions that words would shy to tell.

His eyes captured the lost rebel that before the uprising was made to quell.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Clarissa is a 2nd year student in NMIMS School of Law, Mumbai. 

We are really thankful to her for submitting such a nice piece of poetry on our website.

Clarissa D’Lima

First Published on: LE MONDE DE KULCHA

When Life Reflected

Posted Leave a commentPosted in Poetry

Theme of The Poem

A poem reflecting the common aspirations we share while holding our unique individual goals

When Life Reflected

My hope resides where all hope is lost

My joy is where sadness has left its notch.

My destination is where the fogs never rise.

My virtue is where there is an orgy of vice.

My love is where enmity has left cold frost... chattered life in its yearning youth.

For I am human, not meant for the paths that have no bends,

Not meant to rub my life along with sullen trends.

I am not programmed to work with the fed and known,

I am molded to venture into the dark and explore the unknown...resented life in its muddled mids.

Let me be born where I can create for many a smile,

For death be sweeter if I had to inflict a wound so vile.

Let me be found where refuge is sought,

For it would be better than to have an empty palace in my lot.

Let me grow where all grow along,

For that's the chorus of joy to existence's wistful song...hoped life in its ebbing end.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Clarissa is a 2nd year student in NMIMS School of Law, Mumbai. 

We are really thankful to her for submitting such a nice piece of poetry on our website.

Clarissa D’Lima

“Questioning Others”

Posted Leave a commentPosted in Poetry

Theme Of The Poem

'Questioning Others' is a poem  basically describing the level of people being judgmental in times today and how each action of any individual may that be good or bad becomes a topic of discussion among people and they end up criticizing everything.

Questioning others is judging others,

Judging others is criticising others;

Alas! We are always critiqued,

By the people we know,

By the designation or title

And by the position we hold.

 

We are judged by what we give,

Or what we gain.

We are judged upon gender and age,

And we are judged on our dwelling place.

 

We are judged by our past,

And we are judged by our education;

The language that we speak,

Regardless the dialect changing every 50 kms.

 

Few judge as they are paid to,

Few criticize willingly for fun;

Whereas, few to build their own speculations,

And few judge unwillingly.

 

Alas! Humans have forgotten,

There exists only One to judge everyone.

He is the only critique of humanity,

So, better mind your actions people.

About The Author

Komal is a 2nd year student in NMIMS School of Law, Mumbai. 

We are really thankful to her for submitting such a nice piece of poetry on our website.

Komal Singh
Connect With Her On Instagram

Life is a Sea

Posted Leave a commentPosted in Poetry

Life is a sea.

The tides rise and rest
The garbage may come,
The pearls may come
 
Life is a sea,
The tides rise and rest
You may change but,
The water remains same.
You may make it sheen,
You may make it despicable,
Yet,the water remains same
Oh, life is a sea and only you can see ;
what it offers to you.

About The Author

Ritu is a 2nd year student in NMIMS School of Law, Mumbai. 

We are really thankful to her for submitting such a nice piece of poetry on our website.

Ritu Jagwani
Connect With Her On Instagram

Change

Posted Leave a commentPosted in Poetry

Change

Change is existence, stability is akin dead lion,

Mighty but might-less.

Change is not to be awaited and embraced,

It is to vouched for and grabbed.

Change is not a recourse only after all hopes have died.

Change is the adventure which you decided how to ride.

Change to change, aim to aim,

Change is the ladder of life's board game.

Change is not steady transition of situations and scenes,

Change is your action to divulge from conventional means.

Change is not the seasons you let pass,

It is the opportunity you extract from the farce.

Change is not delicate, to caress it like a new-born.

It is the tough chase with lashes and scorn.

Change is not about the moon and the sun,

Nor about today and tomorrow,

Neither about the loss and gain,

It is about the fear you have now slain.

It is about the comforts we are ready to furrow.

It is the hardships in which lies advantage.

It is the product when you let your potentials rampage.

About The Author

Clarissa is a 2nd year student in NMIMS School of Law, Mumbai. 

We are really thankful to her for submitting such a nice piece of poetry on our website.

Clarissa D’Lima

BREAKING THE FOURTH WALL- RAINS IN MUMBAI

Posted Leave a commentPosted in Poetry

It’s taken me quite some time to finally put these words here that you’re reading on to paper (or screen, whatever medium you’re using). I promised the cool dudes who run this website I’d contribute to their wonderful initiative and if I don’t, these gentlemen would probably go out of their way and ring my neck. So after a month of postponing, pondering on what to write on and finally getting my fingertips to move, here we go!

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Let Go

Posted Leave a commentPosted in Poetry

Theme Of The Poem

The poem, Let Go, is a figurative poem that tells about the ground (earth) which is a connotation of the human mind. The poetry through the experience of the ground talks about the difficulty in forgetting the temporary encounters with people, places and things that one may get attached to. At times the way to overcome the pain of separation from these is to let go of the feelings and use the positive memories to make a better tomorrow.

Let Go

The hard ground was tough and strong,

 It basked lonely under the sun, all day long.

I saw the saplings of virtues take root in it.

Firm it was, enough to let the greens thrive,

While the weeds it left to burn to ashes dry.

 

Then a few days later, the clouds met to pour,

The ground so tough, romanced with the petrichor.

As the first raindrops struck the earth, the ground drew its treasure.

Feelings the nourishing love, the boundless pleasure.

 

But the spells had to end, for the raindrops belonged to the clouds,

Their joy was to reunite in a new form with the heavenly shrouds.

With their depart the dry ground was now left lovelorn

Not with greens, but transformed into a lake with its silent groan.

Its sight made me wonder, was it filled with tears of sorrow or,

Had it collected the signs of its first love, for a lonely life tomorrow?

 

The cause of its silence which puzzles, I know and yet I don't.

I throw pebbles, hoping that it will respond and share its griefs, but it won't.

The pebbles splash, creating ripples that appear like a wise smile devoid of glee.

I stare in it and watch, as it reflect the silence, hiding its pains for none to see.

 

Yet as life goes on…once again the sun will shine

The ground will then again become dry and fine.

I wait for the ground to let go of the raindrops and accept the new warmth.

For the raindrops with time will stagnate, and leave abhorrent stench.

Longer beheld, they will turn to poison, cause to perish.

 

 

Only when the raindrops are left to seep, they will run deep and nourish,

Flowing free in the voids they’ll leave behind freshness, for the ground to cherish.

The ground will be filled with life, and refresh in the new springs along its side.

Overpowering the memories of the first shower, conquering all despair it’ll beam again with pride.

Tell us your views

Share your views for the poem with our community in the comment section or give star ratings for the poem.

 

About The Author

Clarissa is a 2nd year student in NMIMS School of Law, Mumbai. 

We are really thankful to her for submitting such a nice piece of poetry on our website.

Clarissa D’Lima

Being perfect?

Posted 3 CommentsPosted in Poetry

Theme Of The Poem

Great Punjabi Poet Bulleh Shah has said: 

 

Par par aalam faazal hoya
Kadee apnay aap nu parheya nai
Ja ja warda Mandir maseeti
Kadee man apnay wich warrya nai
Aiwayn roz Shaitaan de naal lardaan
Kadee nafs apnay naal larrya nai

 

(Translation)

 

(He read a lot and became a scholar
But he never read himself
He runs to pray into the temple & mosque
But never entered into his own heart
He fights with the devil every day for nothing
He never wrestled with his own ego)

 

The premise of this poem is based on the above mentioned lines i.e. The need of self introspection and the relevance of being truly what you are rather than pretending what you are not. 

Being perfect?

A mask is a facade,
A facade is a mask,
Most people just hiding behind one,
Being someone they are not,
Losing themselves,
Forgetting their identities,
More often than not.
This idea of perfect being the most deceiving of all,
Not wanting anyone else to see their flaws,
The flaws,
The mistakes,
The imperfections,
The ones that make them who they are,
Making them unique,
Beautiful in their own way.
But they are afraid,
Scared of themselves,
Fearful of who they actually are,
Not wanting others to see past their facade,
Past the mask,
Not confident enough,
“what if they don’t like me?”
“what if they stop talking to me?”
“what if...?”
Too wound in the social ladder,
Busy running to the top,
Trying to match the set standards,
That they forget,
Forget that not everyone is suppose to be the same.
If there was a set standard of quality,
We would be things, items, robots even.
NOT humans, not people.
Because,
Humans are supposed to be imperfect,
Suppose to have flaws,
Suppose to commit mistakes,
And in the end,
That’s what makes them special
And takes someone’s breath away!
 
 
 
 

About The Author

Nikita is a 2nd year student in NMIMS School of Law, Mumbai.

We are really thankful to her for submitting such a nice piece of poetry on our website.

Nikita Gupta
Connect With Her On Facebook

Waqt: Ek Saathi

Posted Leave a commentPosted in Poetry

As we all know that time does not stop for anyone and time is very powerful.

We are here presenting you

A Hindi poem reflecting on the relation between man and time, and the desire of man to gain some control over time.

The poem is written by one of our visitors.

 

(Credits below the poem)

Waqt Hai Kaisa Saathi

Waqt hai kaisa Saathi, uljhe jaati hun iski peheli mein par phir bhi samajh nahi pati.

Kabhi mujhse daud lagakar mujhse aage Nikal jaata hai,

 toh kabhi dost jaise mere ghavon Ko sambalta hai.

 

Kabhi mujhe chidane ke chakar mein khud chid jata hai,

Toh kabhi mujhe jitane ki umeed mein jaane kahan muje hara jaata hai.

Phir bhi mera saath na choda iss waqt ki parchayee ne.

 

Uske saath rehna hi shayad jevan jeena hota hai.

Saath rahun isko gale lagkar mein?

Ya dushman bankar uski sacchiyan dekhun mein?

 

Kya waqt naadan hai itna, ki pas hokar bhi mujhse dur jata hai,

Ya mein hi hun baiman ki usse kiye Wade yeh mann bhul sa jata hai

Hai kaisa Saathi waqt yeh ki apnalun jitna utna hi anjan hota jata hai,

 

Mukar jaon jitna utna hi paas apne kheech lata hai.

Kaboo karne ki koshish karun jitna,

Utna he betaab banata jata hai.

 

Aise sawal la khade karta hai,

Ki jeevan ka naksha bhi disha dhundne lagta hai.

Par waqt iska naam hai, apne hi waqte mein jawab khud hi de deta hai.

 

Jab mitti se mehel ki eet bani thi, uss mehel ko bante dekha usne apni jawani mein

Abhi uss mitti ko kabar par lage, dekhta hai who apni prod umar mein.

Jaanta hai waqt yeh har woh raaz, jo chupa hai kahi itithas ke panno mein.

 

Hai waqt yeh kaisa saathi, ki saath dun  jitna utna he mujhe paraya kar deta hai

Ke jaan lun jitna, utna he muje vismit kar deta hai.

 

 

 

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About The Author

Clarissa is a 2nd year student in NMIMS School of Law, Mumbai. 

We are really thankful to her for submitting such a nice piece of poetry on our website.

Clarissa D’Lima