I am a big girl now, mother…

Image result for mother daughter strength picture

Hello readers! Finally,I am out with a poem I had been wanting to compose for a really long time, but was never really satisfied with the result until now.This piece of poetry revolves around the relationship of a mother-daughter duo and how they find their strength to face the cruel, male dominated world. I know, it’s pretty long (well actually, the longest I’ve ever written), excuse me, for that, but knowing I am writing this, it is justified, right?

I hope you enjoy reading the poem as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here it goes…

I am a big girl now, mother…

I remember the first time, the day, a man eyed me hungrily,

You said breathe, look away, walk faster and move on steadily,

I had been a child of five, ready, eager to explore and create,

You said by the time, I turned into a ‘big girl’, I should wait,

Wait for the viciousness and hunger to completely clear away,

And keep my beauty, my identity hidden under a veil till that day.

I grew up believing those stares were a route to that time,

I did what you taught me and kept hiding from the crime.

I was smiling and laughing at my tenth birthday party that night,

Forgotten were the horrors of the past in the present ,so bright,

Suddenly a hand groped me from behind, despite my protests,

Mom, he was one among the long list of civilized guests,

 Hurt, angry I came running to you, out of shock, out of fear,

You laughed it off as a mishap and began to wipe my sorrowful tear.

I thought another hurdle was added to that right path,

And once more, I had to hold back and bury my wrath.

Time flew by, and I started  turning into a young lady,

I was shrouded into long, dull clothes to blend with the shady,

Surroundings and protected from the hunters lurking around,

You asked me again to look away and make no sound,

The wolf-whistles started to be engraved in my ears,

But looking away and walking faster helped all through the years.

Surrounded by my trusted people, I spent the early years of my life,

Before I knew it you pushed me to become someone’s ideal wife,

From that day onwards I remember him never asking for my consent,

I don’t think he understands what the word ‘NO’ meant,

The ornaments of my face have given way to red, blotchy scars,

But didn’t this arrangement called marriage raise bars,

Of cruelty and strangling my ideas, thoughts and opinions,

I believed I would never face this, for I am not among the millions.

 After all those years, I am a big girl now mother,

Still waiting for the dawn you promised me mother,

As I lay on the floor stripped naked of my existence,

Even when I followed all your words with persistence.

Lying on the floor surrounded by blood and dirt,

I question myself, what did I ever do to be hurt?

Darkness has started to crowd and envelope my eyes,

Probably this is where I die, after living the promised lies,

In spite of the defeats, I don’t wish to be dead so soon,

Is this ending in disguise a long-awaited blessed boon?

With this moment I wish to fight, till my shackles are cut off,

And I explore the world in the way, the little girl dreamt of.

I see the open window and hope it carries my voice outside,

The voice of a bruised but not broken child, lady and now a bride,

I scream and scream till there is no voice left in my throat,

I raise my voice for me and for millions like me to be afloat,

From the misery and helpless reflections from the mirrors,

And break free once and for all from the ruthless killers.

I truly understand, today what the ‘big girl’ signified,

Months after losing you, my protector, by my side,

You wanted me to find my voice, my strength, my power,

To fight for myself in the face of hardships and not cower,

You made me strong enough to take a staunch stand,

I feel proud and loved at how you never let go off my hand.

I remember reading the diary you left behind for me,

And realizing how many battles you fought for me,

Alone you pushed the man, who dared to raise his eye,

And harboured intentions of making your daughter cry,

The hand that groped me, years ago, was cut off brutally,

You fought all hardships for me always smiling beautifully,

 Till your last day my husband was not spared from your fire,

To always protect me was your heart’s deepest desire.

You protected me till your last gasp of breath,

Till the time I found chivalry in the face of death.

Nothing can bruise, taint and shatter me to pieces now,

I have tolerated enough abuse and humiliation, I avow,

My soul breathes the bravery lingered by you, my dear,

From the courage you taught me by giving in, to fear.

I have turned into the big girl now mother,

Who will not tolerate injustice another,

I have turned into the big girl you were mother,

Ready to face the world, your big girl mother…

Bhagyashree 31.7.19

All rights reserved.

A big shout-out to all the ‘big girls’ out there and a bigger shout out to their mothers for making them who there are today. #gogirlpower

Don’t you think it’s cruel that the innocent little girls become their courageous big counterparts only after losing everything? How I wish, life had been a bit merciful by providing another alternative…

Let me know in the comments section what you thought about the poem. If you liked my piece don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and follow my blog.

Until the next time.

Cheers!

A walk by the fields

Image result for people in fields at night

#poem #poetryaboutlife #storiesinpoetrt

Hello people!

After a long time, finally, I am out with a post. Today’s post narrates a story of a father discovering the meaning of life after the death of his beloved wife. I hope you enjoy reading it.

Overwhelmed by the canopy of stars under the night sky,

I sit by the fields like any other day, waiting for her to pass by,

Her dazzling smile, her sweet fragrance, her graceful stride,

Reminds me of that special day, when my girl became my bride,

The chapel was lit, tearful parents seated on the sides of the aisle,

With the nervous groom, struggling to recall his vows all the while,

Which flowed like poetry, once he lifted her, glittering, pristine veil,

And they promised each other oneness in their matrimonial trail.

He counted two decades elapsed since he visited the church again,

For instead of happiness, that place now bestowed him with pain,

A loud noise was heard and a devastating rumble followed suit,

Letting go of her gloved hand was all that he remembered en route,

To the hospital, where he woke up after ten torment full days,

To hear, he lost his family in the church which in riots was ablaze,

Only his newly wedded wife was fortunate enough to survive,

Although now she needed machines to help her breathe and thrive,

Days turned into months waiting in the hospital, by her bedside,

Hoping one day, she would rise, leaving her lifeless trance, aside,

After months of waiting, she breathed her last and bid goodbye,

And bequeathed a girl to make him smile, whenever he would cry.

However, he pushed the baby girl away, in pain, in raging anger,

” Her life is cursed”, he kept repeating feverishly with a clangor,

He’d send her to be raised in a home for orphans he decided,

She would bring nothing but sorrow, was the reason he provided,

With a stone heart, he left the baby at the house, sans any concern,

For her well-being and happiness and decided never to return.

With changing moons,the crying baby blossomed into a wise lady,

Believing, one day she would finally be able to meet her family,

Probably when she would be roaming freely around the fields,

Or happily running haywire amidst the colorful,dense yields,

Or someday riding a bus while going to the neighboring town,

Maybe they’ll meet while she was shopping for her wedding gown.

Like his lover, he roamed around the fields every now and then,

Hoping in some way or the other, he could be with her again,

On one of these somber, hopeful walks, she came back into his life,

With the same smile, warm face, she was a replica of his late wife,

In an instant he realized where she came from, who she was,

For her unhappy childhood and misery, he was the cause,

Unable to face his young girl, whom he had harmed,

He scurried away shamefully, making her scared and alarmed.

Since then he had been visiting those fields every day,

To talk to her,to seek her forgiveness in every possible way,

Every time she casts a glance at me, she melts away my heart,

With her kind, nurturing aura and a pristine soul and heart,

With time she has started considering me her trustworthy friend,

If I told her truth, will she turn away and would our bond also end?

Afraid of this, I could never muster courage to talk to her,

Until today when I would reveal the cold truth in front of her,

I know her love for the fields will make her sneak out of her room,

For she finds these walks as a means of averting the gloom,

Tonight come what may, I will chose the path of atoning for my sin,

I ‘ll promise to never go and stay with her through thick and thin,

A low thud and rustling of leaves, made me look around,

My sweetheart was sprawled near the fallen Oak leaves, I found,

I lovingly helped her get to her feet and dusted her dress,

And around the twinkling stars, twirled the playful tigress.

Before I could utter a word, I could feel myself weeping,

For injuring a heart, which would probably never stop bleeding,

She bent down and pressed something in my hand,

A bright red rose, which had crumpled a little in her hand,

She embraced me and said something, changing my life forever,

“I know you went away before, but I know you’d do it never,

Again and we’ll be together till the world falls apart,

A new life,sans agony, united and strong, we’ll start”.

Seeing our footprints together, I was sure she had returned to me,

Years later, reminiscing , the moments of our youthful spree,

When he had hurt her selfishly, she had smiled and revealed,

He was forgiven,by asking him to walk with her by the field.

© Bhagyashree, 19.9.2019

If you like my poem, don’t forget to like, comment and follow my blog for similar posts.

Tell me in the comments section what you thought about my post.

Until the next time,

Cheers!

Left(-over) Love

#poem #lifepoetry

Hello fellow bloggers and beloved readers!

Some love stories are never endowed with the happy ending they deserve. Today’s post is about a modern couple who are hesitant to make take the first step on the path of their left(-over) love and lead their lives choosing happiness over misery.

Her phone beeped once.

She lept to her feet,

As of waiting for his reply.

Her phone had beeped only once.

It was him.

With a smiley for the birthday wish,

She had sent.

It was definitely him.

She smiled.

Unable to contain her excitement,

Over his usual reply.

She smiled ruefully.

His fingers trembled.

Hesitant to ask her how she was,

After leaving years ago.

His fingers trembled uncontrollably.

She struggled.

To string the words together,

Asking him, could they meet again?

She struggled.

There was love left. It still hurt.

Both the screens were swiped shut,

As their moments drew on with,

Unspoken feelings and unfinished conversations.

There was love left. It still hurt.

Bhagyashree 4.9.19

Let me know in the comments section did you like my new style of poetry?

If you liked my post, don’t forget to like, comment and reblog. Also click here to follow my blog for similar posts on poetry, books and life.

Until the next time,

Cheers!

” Together”

Image result for mother son footsteps



Hi fellow bloggers and beloved readers!

Isn’t it surreal how one line, one quote, sometimes inspires you to no bounds and you surrender yourself to the beautiful process of creating something new! (Let me know if it is otherwise for you guys)

” More than mother and son,
They were accomplices in solitude”.

Gabriel Gracia Marquez



When I finished reading this quote, I was sure about one thing, is the inspiration for my next poem. And lo, here it is! A poem dedicated to the angelic journey of a mother-son duo pitted against the cruel world. However, this poem would have made more sense on the occasion of Mothers’ Day 😛 Never mind, enjoy my piece!

Stumbling her way through the old building alone,

The young girl maneuvered to search for that stone,

From her childhood, bearing the innocent imprints,

Of ruling the world, someday, with her artistic prints.

Crossing the forgotten alley, she recalled that night,

Which left her miserable and drowning in contrite,

“It was a mistake, a grave blunder”, he kept repeating,

“Let’s stifle the tiny heart, that’s inside you, beating”.

A scared, but firm ‘no’ was her strong, ultimate reply,

After which, her loved faded, painfully bidding goodbye,

Determined to fight back for herself and now,for him,

A part of her soul, which would never leave her grim.

Abandoned by her parents, seeking solace in solitude,

She realized, a change was needed, in her attitude,

From a meek, frightened and helpless single mother,

To a strong, brave, loving and self-sufficient mother.

She decided to rekindle her love for the vibrant paints,

And learn to live life to the fullest, sans constraints,

Seeking inspirations from the scribbles of the past,

She vowed to lay an example, forever which would last.

Her left hand, carrying the stone with cracked paint,

The other promised the child, ” You’ll never be a taint,

You are my precious, precious blessing to be prized.

Seeing the wonder you’ll be, the would will be surprised”.

“We are not alone from now, we are together in this,

And together we’ll make our lives an ethereal bliss”,

Promising this, she walked with her head held high,

With her little treasure she was ready to soar the skies.

————————-

Twenty, long, years later, she remembered her old days,

Seeing the cluster of canvases, bather by golden rays,

Where a young man, spoke about spreading joy through art,

An innocent, pure joy, keeping the evil and cruelty apart.

Smiling he walked up to an old lady, delicate and elegant,

Taking her hand, he whispered in a manner, eloquent,

” We were not alone, mother, we were together in this,

Mother, together we made our lives, an ethereal bliss”.

Bhagyashree, 30.8.19

All rights reserved.

Did this quote impact you in the same way, like me?

I would love to hear your thoughts on my work.Let me know in the comments section what you think,

If you liked my post, don’t forget to like, comment and reblog. Also, keep in mind to follow my blog for similar posts about poetry, books and life.

Until the next time,

Cheers!



“Hurt”

In the circle of life (yeah, yeah I am a big Lion King fan😂), you meet strangers who turn into friends and friends who turn into strangers. However, it the journey of a friend turning into a stranger that hurts the most. Today’s post is about that one journey that leaves you pained and scarred, yet gives you the courage to try again and find your happiness.

It is not the goodbye that hurt,

It is the recurring flashback, that does,

It is not the empty room that pinches,

It is the engraved echoing conversation, that does.

It is not the short talks that squeeze my heart,

It is that abrupt ending adieu, that does.

It is not the distance between us that hurts,

Is is the increasing emotional gap, that does.

Is is not our dwindling friendship that hurts,

Is is your fake attempt at rekindling, that does.

It is not letting you go that pinches,

It is remembering old memories alone , that does.

It is not ending things that squeeze my heart,

It is starting all over again and again, that does.

Bhagyashree, 27.8.19

All rights reserved.

I would love to hear your varied views on this journey. Let me know what you think in the comments section.

If you liked my post, don’t forget to like and comment. Also, hit the follow button to read more such posts on poetry, books and life.

Until the next time,

Cheers!

Just Breathe

Image result for stairwell artistic

Hello fellow bloggers and readers!

Success is all about failing and learning. It takes courage to bravely face all the hurdles, fail, learn from them and continue on the strenuous path you have chosen to carve your success. Today’s post is dedicated to all the amazing people who had decided to follow the same path, yet, for some reason, are on the verge of giving up. Trust me, all of you are brave enough to undertake the rest of the journey, and emerge victorious, just don’t lose courage now. You have come a long way since the moment you decided to fight and a new life awaits you at the end of the next step you have to take…

As you sit at the uncomfortable foot of the stairwell,

Overthinking the zillion ways, life did not treat you well,

Or the times, you did not live up to the expectations,

Yours, theirs, seeking solace in dearth of inspirations.

Pondering the reasons you should stop mid-way,

Drowning yourself in regret retreat, where alone you’ll stay,

Or probably the bliss of escaping, when you had time,

Or just one more push and you reach the ultimate paradigm.

You see others succeeding rapidly at a faster pace,

Doubting yourself, if you belong here, in the first place,

Suddenly, you stand up, determined to quit once and for all,

Promising yourself, to not feel pangs of guilt, big or small.

The confident footsteps stagger to walk on their new way,

Until a small voice whispers; “Just breathe and let it go away,

Just breathe and enjoy a day relaxing, smiling, savoring,

Enjoying the laurels you have been so far, achieving.

You are meant for this, for a reason, you choose this path,

However, scary it seems, you are treading on the right path,

Quitting now, is a blunder, you’ll be horrified to commit,

Later on, realizing, at the next step was the desired summit.

Just breathe and cling tightly on the thin thread of hope,

Keep climbing high until this thread becomes the thick rope,

Of your dreams, wishes, desires, joys and silent success,

Agreed, it is strenuous and hard, keep trying, nonetheless.

Just breathe and climb the stairwell, you left behind,

Just breathe and follow your heart, instead of your mind,

Doubting and impulsive quitting are just a part of life,

Which make you even more determined to win this strife.

Just breathe, relax, smile, muster courage, try again,

Harder and harder till the time, it is no pain and only gain,

Just breathe and let all the doubt slowly get away,

The footsteps will then confidently walk on their old way.”

Bhagyashree, 24.8.19

All rights reserved

I would love to hear your story of overcoming the impulsive decision of quitting and emblazoning success over it. Let’s chat about it in the comments section.

If you liked my post, don’t forget to like, comment and follow my blog!

Until the next time, stay motivated and strive harder!

Happy weekend!

I am a big girl now, mother…

Image result for mother daughter strength picture

Hello readers! Finally,I am out with a poem I had been wanting to compose for a really long time, but was never really satisfied with the result until now.This piece of poetry revolves around the relationship of a mother-daughter duo and how they find their strength to face the cruel, male dominated world. I know, it’s pretty long (well actually, the longest I’ve ever written), excuse me, for that, but knowing I am writing this, it is justified, right?

I hope you enjoy reading the poem as much as I enjoyed writing it! Here it goes…

I am a big girl now, mother…

I remember the first time, the day, a man eyed me hungrily,

You said breathe, look away, walk faster and move on steadily,

I had been a child of five, ready, eager to explore and create,

You said by the time, I turned into a ‘big girl’, I should wait,

Wait for the viciousness and hunger to completely clear away,

And keep my beauty, my identity hidden under a veil till that day.

I grew up believing those stares were a route to that time,

I did what you taught me and kept hiding from the crime.

I was smiling and laughing at my tenth birthday party that night,

Forgotten were the horrors of the past in the present ,so bright,

Suddenly a hand groped me from behind, despite my protests,

Mom, he was one among the long list of civilized guests,

 Hurt, angry I came running to you, out of shock, out of fear,

You laughed it off as a mishap and began to wipe my sorrowful tear.

I thought another hurdle was added to that right path,

And once more, I had to hold back and bury my wrath.

Time flew by, and I started  turning into a young lady,

I was shrouded into long, dull clothes to blend with the shady,

Surroundings and protected from the hunters lurking around,

You asked me again to look away and make no sound,

The wolf-whistles started to be engraved in my ears,

But looking away and walking faster helped all through the years.

Surrounded by my trusted people, I spent the early years of my life,

Before I knew it you pushed me to become someone’s ideal wife,

From that day onwards I remember him never asking for my consent,

I don’t think he understands what the word ‘NO’ meant,

The ornaments of my face have given way to red, blotchy scars,

But didn’t this arrangement called marriage raise bars,

Of cruelty and strangling my ideas, thoughts and opinions,

I believed I would never face this, for I am not among the millions.

 After all those years, I am a big girl now mother,

Still waiting for the dawn you promised me mother,

As I lay on the floor stripped naked of my existence,

Even when I followed all your words with persistence.

Lying on the floor surrounded by blood and dirt,

I question myself, what did I ever do to be hurt?

Darkness has started to crowd and envelope my eyes,

Probably this is where I die, after living the promised lies,

In spite of the defeats, I don’t wish to be dead so soon,

Is this ending in disguise a long-awaited blessed boon?

With this moment I wish to fight, till my shackles are cut off,

And I explore the world in the way, the little girl dreamt of.

I see the open window and hope it carries my voice outside,

The voice of a bruised but not broken child, lady and now a bride,

I scream and scream till there is no voice left in my throat,

I raise my voice for me and for millions like me to be afloat,

From the misery and helpless reflections from the mirrors,

And break free once and for all from the ruthless killers.

I truly understand, today what the ‘big girl’ signified,

Months after losing you, my protector, by my side,

You wanted me to find my voice, my strength, my power,

To fight for myself in the face of hardships and not cower,

You made me strong enough to take a staunch stand,

I feel proud and loved at how you never let go off my hand.

I remember reading the diary you left behind for me,

And realizing how many battles you fought for me,

Alone you pushed the man, who dared to raise his eye,

And harboured intentions of making your daughter cry,

The hand that groped me, years ago, was cut off brutally,

You fought all hardships for me always smiling beautifully,

 Till your last day my husband was not spared from your fire,

To always protect me was your heart’s deepest desire.

You protected me till your last gasp of breath,

Till the time I found chivalry in the face of death.

Nothing can bruise, taint and shatter me to pieces now,

I have tolerated enough abuse and humiliation, I avow,

My soul breathes the bravery lingered by you, my dear,

From the courage you taught me by giving in, to fear.

I have turned into the big girl now mother,

Who will not tolerate injustice another,

I have turned into the big girl you were mother,

Ready to face the world, your big girl mother…

Bhagyashree 31.7.19

All rights reserved.

A big shout-out to all the ‘big girls’ out there and a bigger shout out to their mothers for making them who there are today. #gogirlpower

Don’t you think it’s cruel that the innocent little girls become their courageous big counterparts only after losing everything? How I wish, life had been a bit merciful by providing another alternative…

Let me know in the comments section what you thought about the poem. If you liked my piece don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and follow my blog.

Until the next time.

Cheers!

Shall I Stay or Shall I Go – To Lands Unknown?

This image has an empty alt attribute; its file name is shall-i-stay-or-shall-i-go-to-lands-unkown_-1.jpg

Heelllloooo people! What’s up? Have you ever wondered what happens when two poets with different ideologies, two distinct writing styles, varying world views,different nationalities, come together and bond over one theme to write a poem? The result is intellectual (I mean hilarious *coughs*) squabbling, rigorous writing, frivolous editing and finally a well- crafted piece which both of them are proud of!

I would have never believed this to be true, had I not experienced it myself while collaborating with Mathew (Blog of the Wolf Boy) over this piece of poetry, depicting the dilemma of a young boy on the brink of making a life-affirming decision.

Out of a large, water-soaked windowpane,
I heard the horizons calling,
Calling me to a life full of quests,
With winds and hues of joys.
Where my heart won’t rip in pain,
And my soul will dance in spree.

Overjoyed, I turn around to find,
Souvenirs of my life to take along,
On a journey, conquering the world,
And to be away from one,
Which never accepted my body or mind,
To a place where I could truly belong.

But something holds me back,
As my legs walk towards my dream,
Stifling my neck as I try to breathe happiness,
Ghost of a smile etched on my face, glancing,
At a crumpled white sheet against a black,
Backdrop of responsibilities, acting as a seam.

The letter smiles at me, slyly,
Inviting me to a life of dutiful death,
Promising respect, money, power,
And a man worthy of success.
Realizing the cost, my eyes well up idly,
For an unfulfilled life which saps my breath.

~

I think all these things and I wonder
What’s a worse fate to endure?
To be the one who’s tried and failed,
Or feed a life that’s lost its allure?

It seems to me, the remedy,
Is to do that which scares me most,
So, I’ll dry these eyes and pack my bags,
For I’ve more to lose, not far, but close.

I close my eyes and drift off to a warmer place,
Where a gentle breeze plays on my skin,
And foreign melodies permeate open space,
While I dance to the lands I’ve never been.

There’s something sweet about losing yourself,
In unique and distant discoveries.
There may be bitterness in hard farewells,
But I’ll take heart in exotic things of sundry.

I’m awake and aware that life had not begun,
Until this day when I grew brave,
And marched my way into the rising sun,
To find my peace and soul, before my grave.

If fortune favors courage, as they say,
My tomorrow is going to be a brighter day.
Walking down new paths I’ve paved,
Towards a life I’ve not, but only craved.

Bhagyashree and Matthew 23.7.19

All rights reserved.

I would love to hear your views and thoughts of our collab.

Don’t forget to check his awesome blog and soulful poetry! Trust me, you would definitely fall in love with his writing style and depth of emotions once you read his works.

Of course, if you like our collab, don’t forget to like, comment, share and follow my blog!

Until the next time.

Cheers!

Scars of Peace

Image result for war and peace clipart

Hello fellows! The feeling of penning down pieces of your heart on paper, is liberating, isn’t it? You feel like you accomplished something great. And if the poem turns out to be as you imagined, the wave of happiness is beyond words and boundaries of expression! When I wrote this poem, I never knew, these words on paper, would turn out to be so beautiful and painful at the same time (I hope its true for everyone, not just me). I have been waiting a long time to share this,with all of you and I felt today is the best moment to do this. I’ll tell you the reason in my next post, soon.So here’s presenting my favorite poem from my collection. Let me know what do you feel about it.

Amidst the clashing of ideas and weapons,

There exist  few fighters struggling, with ribbons,

The men march on the battlefields with sombre, expressions,

The women fight their own battles against, repressions,

Children are the ones, who are left behind,

 Who acquire wisdom during the battles of the sighted blind,

Forced to give up their homes, their happiness,

They fall prey to the difficulties that arise due to the adults’ viciousness,

Daughters try to shield themselves from the wolves lurking around,

Sons try to rebuild their abodes, trying to keep their minds sound,

Even in the tumultuous times, they never lose their innocence,

Content even in grief, cheerfulness reflecting on their countenance,

The hope that glimmers in their souls,

Is worth learning from them, while achieving our goals.

Such is the story of a young little boy,

Who even in the face of dread, was unfazed by this ploy,

It had been a month since, he last saw their faces,

He was optimistic, after the victory, they would be subjected to praises,

His father told him to have a strong mind,

After their success his destiny would be immaculately aligned,

His mother lovingly patted his cheek before leaving,

It would only be a few days until they would be united, he slept, believing,

His friends told him, they would never return back,

Reliving their childhood memories was one thing they would lack…

Still he felt optimistic while bringing together shards of life,

Years later, when he visited the devastated wrecks,

Where there was both pain and love in rife…

Bhagyashree,10.10.18

All rights reserved.

If you liked my post, don’t forget to like, share, comment and follow my blog!

Cheers!

20 Questions Book Tag



Hello people! What’s up?

You know how you have to come up one thing you learnt at the end of summer programs and remember the lessons for the rest of your life? You want me to throw my light on my lesson learnt this summer; people take blogging way too seriously, and I need to catch up soon…While gaining this enlightening insight I came across some amazing book tags and fell in love with them. I saw this one at the amazing abooknation and knew from the first glance, I would be doing this book tag for sure.

Cheers to my spirit of trying something new this summer!

#1: How many books are too many in a series?

As long as the story is interesting with great character arcs and gripping plot I am fine with any number of books that the author wants to include in the series. My only condition being, releasing the books quickly!!!

#2: How do you feel about cliff-hangers?

Never read them until you have the next book in the series right next to you…

#3: Hardcover or paperback?

Hardcover when you have to make your book shelf look aesthetic and paperback when it’s time to go pocket-friendly (which seems my only choice, now-a-days :P)

#4: Favorite book?

A book I would swear by, is ‘Doctors’ by Erich Segal. It’s the right blend of emotions, drama, mystery, fiction, reality and all the elements you look forward while reading a book. Although, I wasn’t keen on reading this book before, but I guess, reading this book was one of the best decisions of my life, so far!

#5: Least Favorite Book?

Why does this happen to book lovers? This is the most difficult question, that we have to answer. Trust me, it’s hard. Jokes apart, I haven’t come across a book that I have detested reading yet and I hope, I never will.

#6: Love Triangles, yes or no?

I am always up for love triangles in books. They always leads to exciting events and reactions from the characters, that gives us more pages to read and bask in our fantasy world a little longer.

#7: A book you are currently reading?

I am reading Mein Kampf by Adolf Hitler at the moment, heavy read, I know.

#8: Last book you recommended to someone?

The Ministry of Utmost Happiness by Arundhati Roy, a book which I collabed with another blogger, on. Link here (Part I)and here (Part II).

#9: Oldest book you’ve read? (publication date)

The Swiss Family Robinson which was published in 1812. For the heads up, I own one of the oldest editions of that book!

#10: Newest book you’ve read? (publication date)

My book, ‘AN INWARD ODYSSEY’; a collection of poetry which was published last December!

#11: Favorite author?

Don’t have one. I go through different phases of reading, wherein I try different authors and genres and whichever one I like the best, more books of that particular author/genre are added to my bookshelf .

#12: Buying books or borrowing?

Buying, it’s always, buying. I am extremely offended by the idea of borrowing/lending books, and I am not even sorry for my strong opinion.

#13: A book you dislike that everyone seems to love?

Now, that’s an interesting question.I would say, P.S I love you by Cecilia Ahern.

#14: Bookmarks or dog-ears?

My heart is torn into two, when people dog-ears pages of their books. How cruel! It’s ALWAYS bookmarks!!!!

#15: A book you can always reread?

For the record, I’ve read the entire Harry Potter series seven times, then outgrew them. So I think rereading books is a good idea only till the time you are reading your favorite portions of the novel.

#16: Can you read while listening to music?

Music is my go-to companion for every chore, every task I have to accomplish even when I am writing poetry or any other literary piece. However, this companion needs to leave the room, when I am reading. I can either concentrate on the glistening words or the heartfelt lyrics at a time.

#17: One POV or multiple POVs?

Reading both kind of works, I think I lean more towards multiple POVs. It’s always better to know each character from their own perceptive as it adds more depth to the story.

#18: Do you read a book in one sitting or over multiple days?

Knowing my amazing time management skills, it’s either the entire book or the ever growing list of chores that I have to tend to. So, sadly, I have to divide the book over the span of multiple days to play justice to my role both as a responsible human being and a book craving bookworm!

#19: Any book that changed your life?

This is my favorite question! ‘Born A Crime’ by Trevor Noah is one such book that hilariously taught me life lessons and made me realize how fortunate I am living my life, the way I want to. I suggest everyone should read this book, once in their lifetime.

#20: Who do you tag?

Anyone and everyone who wants to do this tag.

I know, it’s been a long time, since I have done book reviews. Well, now I know, why learning time management skills in school would have been a good idea…

Never mind, I would now make up for the lost time with numerous posts, I promise!

Don’t forget to follow my blog!

Cheers!



A Happy Day!

Image result for one month anniversary

Hey people! I am so happy today! I am smiling even as I write this!!! There are two reasons behind my happy smile; one being a 10-kilometer drive I went along to test my driving skills for the first time ,yesterday. And the other; I am celebrating my blog’s ONE MONTH ANNIVERSARY!!! Isn’t it exciting! Honestly, I did not think I would come this far (lol, I know it’s not that far along)!

I began my journey into the world of blogging with poetry and trudging along I started writing travel blogs, book reviews, random organized thoughts and many more (follow my blog to find out more)! I can’t thank all the people who believed in me and joined hands with me on this new path and phase of life. Huge hugs!!!You guys already know that I published my collection of poems last year, right?

So today’s blog is a tribute to the past one month in which I racked my brains looking for new thoughts to share, virtually met new people, came across some beautiful thoughts by equally beautiful people and above all realized where my true calling lies! A tribute in the form of a poem from my book.

I hope you guys, enjoy this variation and lose yourself in the simmering magic of words.

Here’s my gift to my blog on its first one-month anniversary!

A Deferential Gift

His echoing footsteps filled the room,

The rays of hope coming in from the opened door,

Diminished the gloom.

I became still and excitement washed over me,

The bare canvas was eager to be a part of the enthralling spree.

I prayed to the Almighty amongst all the canvases,

I should be the one, where his brush strokes would paint the blank spaces.

With a piercing look around,

He choose me to make a picture, profound.

The artist sharpened his pencils and drew over my body,

For his masterpiece could not be tainted as shoddy.

An excruciating pain was felt over my heart,

On the path to perfection this, was just the start.

 Every day ,with every line drawn,

A fragment of my identity was gone.

Each day he drew to his heart’s delight,

I endured the pain for that one dazzling sight.

The next day a new pain was born,

When the artist began to erase what he had drawn.

After ten long days of this agony,

Came the real test of my gallantry.

I was being vibrantly painted into a picture, grand,

For I was to provide relief from ordinary lives; morose and bland.

With each stroke I was suffocated,

With each object brimming to life,

I was defeated.

Neither did I object , neither did I oppose,

While attaining peace, this was the destiny, I chose.

He relentlessly pursued bringing the canvas to life,

Little did he know, I was losing the strife.

Slowly I started losing my breath,

Nearing was my age old nightmare; death.

With a little life inside me, I heard,

I was embellished, which I could see with my vision, blurred.

Before the final show, a black cloth was drawn over my eyes,

I was the artist’s feat, that had to be prized.

Losing my identity did not matter,

As long I could provide peace from the chaotic clatter.

The serene painting into which I had been transformed,

He hoped, would keep the people united for long.

The infallible joy I experienced after losing my identity,

 I believed I could spread happiness and help people forget animosity.

An empty canvas that I was,

My sacrifice had ultimately found a cause.

This enlightening delight demands no gratitude,

Just people to smile eternally and shed their twofold attitude.

With this gift I bid adieu and leave the Man a message to fathom,

Join hands and make my sacrifice immortal, for, eras to come!

All rights reserved.

I would love to hear your stories of blogging and the ways you celebrate your blog-anniversaries. Share your stories with me in the comments section.

Also, click the follow button for more interesting thoughts and posts!

Love, celebrations and cheers!

The Unforeseen

Hello readers!

Today’s blog talks about future. I mean who would have thought, a typical, nerdy school kid like me would have started her own blog?

Future is so uncertain and so are the consequences of our actions. I don’t know where I would take this blog (or more precisely where this blog would take me in future). But, what I know for sure is what happens with the characters in my poem, which you guys would have to read to know.( I don’t reveal spoilers!)

 Deep down in a dense jungle,

Roared a lion, lying on a hay bundle,

“Present me my food, ye animals humble,

Else all of the jungle would be in a crumble”!

Hearing this all the animals were too scared too enthuse,

For all their lives were too precious to loose,

All headed to their homes in neat, long queues,

For it was a situation neither of prudence or amuse.

A little bird then twitched her tail,

And said it was a challenge in which they could not fail,

“We have to fight the mighty lion and sail,

To the bank of victory, strong, sturdy and not pale”!

Hearing this, the  animals scurried away,

Too scared to give this thought in their minds a way,

The little bird stood strong and courageous,

Ready to face the lion come what may.

The lion due to his old age had lost his alacrity,

But the little bird was too vain to take even a twinge of pity,

She considered the lion her greatest enemy and prayed to the Almighty,

To not make her stronger and more courageous than the lion but more witty.

Avenging her humiliation was taking shape,

Her prudence and sensibility were all ablaze,

She dreamt of shattering the lion’s pride,

Her stone heart had no space left for any agape.

Slowly and steadily the lion applied skill and technique,

Comprehending his speed, the little bird started to feel pique,

For she thought that the mighty beast was immensely meek,

And thus began the ferocious fight amidst the excited, anxious clique.

The lion pounced, the bird few high,

It was her strategy to first exhaust the lion and the aim for the sky,

Loud and long heard was this battle cry,

In which the lion or the bird had to die.

Suddenly the crowd parted,

For a new fight had started,

The bird was running behind the lion,

The lion was running in the ground uncharted.

The little bird then perched on a bank of a lake,

And waited for the lion, painting her expressions opaque,

The lion had a choice to emerge victorious or make it slake,

It was a risk he had to take.

The lion then drew back a little,

For he desired to make the little revolutionary’s death highly remittal,

The little bird’s mouth out of fear was dry of spittle,

The lion then jumped on a platform near the lake highly brittle.

Sensing the danger of drowning the lion started to yelp,

But the animals rejoiced not caring to extend a hand of help,

The little bird’s praises were sung wide and far,

For she had given freedom to everyone in the jungle from an insect  to a kelp.

For a few days the little bird was consecrated,

Her praising continued unabated,

At the same time, a danger was circling the jungle unabated,

It was time for the animals to be serious and culminate celebrating being elated.

The mortal man afraid of the lion, kept away from the forest,

But now it was time to massacre the animals, humble and modest,

He started felling the trees to ashes and dust,

For now he longed to fulfil his lust.

The jungle was set on fire,

Everything was tainted from the shrubs to the mire,

The little bird lost the respect she had acquired,

To undo the killing of the beast was her ultimate desire.

The animals cast her reproachful looks,

She was granted a throne amongst the crooks,

Her vengeance had costed her jungle’s best hooks,

Hatred was seen in every corners and every nooks.

The little bird then repented her decision unwise,

She had murdered her protector in disguise,

Everywhere were visible mirages of lies,

For she had killed her protector in disguise.

The gay, vibrant jungle was now depressed,

Now there was only angst and no jest,

For they failed to comply to the mighty beast’s request,

They won the battle but failed to conquest…

                                                                                                                          Bhagyashree

Let me know of any alternative endings, this poem could have.

Waiting for your comments.

Please follow my blog at inkandthoughts.blog!

Cheers!

The Scape of Elections

Hello readers!

This is the first time I am attempting to write a political satire. I wanted the title to resemble a famous hip hop beat played in Discos, but never mind. I had fun writing this. I hope all of you read this in a fun spirit and not force me , to take down my blog tomorrow (I sincerely wish, this does not happen, I am scared though!)

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS. THE CARTOON STRIP IS INSPIRED BY THE LEGENDARY CARTOONIST MR R.K. LAKSHMAN’S WORKS. ALL NAMES AND CHARACTERS ARE FICTITIOUS. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO THE CHARACTERS LIVING OR DEAD OR INCIDENT IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL. I HAVE NO INTENTION OF HURTING THE SENTIMENTS OF ANY CLASS, CASTE, CREED OR GENDER GROUP.

Please tell me in the comments section, if my attempt of writing a satire could make a mark.

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It is the talk of the town,

Whose name is ‘Flags-down’,

The time is coming near,

Time of elections, my dear!

The chubby man assured water,

Unbroken supply even if it’s saltwater,

The woman under the veil,

Promised voting criminals, bail,

Mr Unlawman spoke highly about,

Quick justice ,without doubt.

Another party banner screams,

Of fulfillment of the young dreams.

Earlier,attempted to ban womens’ modern clothes,

Women safety is promised by those.

Another leader bragged about public heath,

As a sector of work, using public wealth.

Newly made houses are bound,

To poor, if you vote Mr Slowgrowth around.

Employment is just round the corner,

If you bring forth, Miss NoWarner.

Another group promises all of the above,

With its loud symbol of a black dove.

A youngster with a huge head,

Promised happiness instead.

With this, the battlefield turned iridescent,

In the town, shaped like a crescent.

————–

A voter presses the button with a hopeful finger,

Chuckling on the lyrics of the street singer,

After the war, barren is the battlefield,

Fake promises and pretentious actions are to yield,

A society of growth and development,

A town of equity, stability and contentment,

Unless the people join hands, and,

Work, instead of just taking command,

Of the leaders and the and politicians,

Who in the end, turn out to be mind magicians’!

After the war, barren is the battlefield,

Fake promises and pretentious actions are to yield,

A society of growth and development,

A town of equity, stability and contentment’!

Bhagyashree

I request all the people (eligible to vote), please make use of your power to elect the ideal party to run our nation.

Also, wish me luck, for I would be voting for the first time!

Until the next time, sleep late on this Sunday!

Cheers!

Treasure. Life. Pleasure

Hello readers!

Let me know it you like this poem in the comments section! An honest review is needed as I have tried a different style of poetry (free verse with anaphora;repetition of word or phase in the beginning of each verse) which I have not attempted before.

Image result for crumbling palace drawing

She saw once again, the crumbling ruins with tired eyes,

She saw once again the hopeless, sleepless nights,

She saw the delusional palace that she grew up in,

She saw the long corridors where she used to run alone,

She saw the friendly snowflakes settling on window panes,

She saw the grandeur fragmenting slowly and stealthily,

She saw the desolated meals, every day and every night,

She saw the paintings screeching for freedom,

She saw the sunlight bouncing on the treacherous walls,

She saw the smiles of the unhappy child, teenager and adult,

She saw the bulldozer striking again at her unhappy palace,

She saw the people collecting rubble from the demolition,

She saw the unhappy child dying with each stroke.

—————

She saw once again the happy cottage with tired eyes,

She saw the hopeful, peaceful slumbers spent in the house,

She saw the happy cries of her children, echoing around,

She saw a happy face smiling back at her from the glass door,

She saw a happy child being born inside her again,

She saw her demons flying around, not able to touch her,

She saw her happy home, standing in place of the palace,

She saw her happy soul flying happily, instead of being caged,

She finally saw her home once again, before closing her eyes again.

Bhagyashree

Enjoy the weekend till we meet again!

A Daughter’s Cry

Hello readers!

Here is poem dedicated to all the beautiful ladies out there!

Dating back to the ancient texts,

A woman is treated as a soul divine,

But a daughter, they won’t let her shine.

Image result for girl on the horizon

They kill her before she opens her eyes,

Why believe those myths, those lies?

She is chirpy, so full of life,

Why pierce her soul with a tainted knife?

No matter what is her age,

Let her out for once from ,

The vicious social cage.

To the pure heart I pay my respect,

For once let her all her sorrows forget.

Why disregard the humble soul,

Let her rise, touch the skies and ,

Reach her goal.

Recognise her sensitive, emotional

And loving nature,

Stop the physical and mental torture.

She squeezes away sorrows and,

Helps to forget pain,

She shows us where the sun is,

When we are hiding from rain.

At least give her a chance,

Break free from the orthodox,

Delusionary trance.

Why the social differences be,

Her judging base,

She was and she is at par,

With men in the long race.

A daughter is an infinite gift,

Don’t let the social taboos make,

Her drift.

Encircle her with love in,

Everything you do,

Don’t kill her in the womb,

And bid her adieu!  

Bhagyashree

Comments are always welcome!

Please follow my blog at inkandthoughts.blog!

Screens and Life.

How’s life people?

Let’s see if you can guess the theme of my new poem just by reading the title…

They told me that real life existed outside screens,

How wrong, they were.

I was sceptical ,how life thrived inside the screens.

How wrong , I was.

They said, characters are remembered just in real world,

How wrong , they were.

I thought ,emotions are only found in souls of the real world,

How wrong, I was.

They said,stories worth listening are those which are lived,

How wrong, they were.

I believed the flashy, virtual stories are short-lived,

How wrong, I was.

Soul-touching background scores exist only on monitors,

How wrong, we were.

Real life has no links with those large, treacherous monitors,

How wrong, we were!

Everything changed when movies became life,

And life turned into stories screened on screens,

Seeing, their ebbing sons , in battleground triumphing that strife,

As the actors, characters, stories, music, infused life into screens!

Bhagyashree

Comments are always welcome!

Please follow my blog at inkandthoughts.blog!

Cheers!

The Imperfects.

Hello readers!How’s going with you guys?

I have always been interested in learning and trying new forms of creative writing and poetry. So this time, it’s turn for ‘LIMERICK’. It is a traditionally humorous (can be serious as well, well considering I am writing, it has got to be serious!), five-line rhymed poem that can be used in a wide variety of interesting ways.

So here it goes.

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However imperfect we seem to the other sphere,

It was for a divine reason we were created here,

Call us manly-woman or womanly-man,

Agreed, we’re different from your clan,

But, aren’t perfect bodies of intellectual flaws, imperfect my dear?

Bhagyashree

Please follow my blog at inkandthoughts.blog!

Comments are always welcome!

Breathing Belief

Hello readers!

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Today’s blog highlights the journey of self discovery. The journey of moving forward. The journey of self- love. The journey of life.

So here’s a poem accentuating the journey of acceptance of beauty within ourselves and loving ourselves.

On a serene, rainy day, perched a little bird on a window pane,

Protecting herself from the giant drops, struggling in vain,

On the other side, sat a young girl, lost in her thoughts,

Enraged with life, owing to her skin marred with white spots,

The little bird, knocked on the pane with her mighty beak,

In her attempts to save herself from the gloomy bleak,

Listening to the frantic cries, the girl let the bird in,

Covering the winged life with a blanket of hope, warm and thin,

The little bird grappled for breath for a while,

For her rebirth, she thanked the girl with a smile,

Before flying to her open sky and returning to her fate,

She asked the girl the reason behind her gloomy state,

 Absence of cheerful mirth and happiness was the reply,

Being ostracized had made her aloof, quiet and immensely shy,

The bird chirped and joyously exclaimed,

Saving my life has earned you the greatest prize, she claimed,

The exclamation left the girl stuttering with happiness,

She realized she was no longer a prisoner of her loneliness,

The girl with renewed confidence walked towards the door,

For the first time, from the sea of misery, she would try to swim ashore.

Bhagyashree

Comments are always welcome!

A Tale of Two Friends.

Hello readers!

Isn’t life all about trying new things?

So here I am trying a new kind of poetry. ACROSTIC POETRY . It’s a fun poetic form where the first letter of every verse combines to create a word or a message.  Let’s see if you can decipher the ‘word’ after reading my poem.

Family comes first, they told me, since childhood,

Rightly wrong , they were, I understood in adulthood,

I found a friend in your words, guidance and kinship,

Even at the dusk of life, I would not forget this friendship,

Not even a day passed without our intellectual chit chats,

Doubts on my abilities vanished, hurriedly with your pats,

Flying kites in clear blue skies, running azure in green meadow,

Or following you around all day, I just loved being your shadow,

Resting in your grave you must be thoroughly content,

Life’s lessons you taught us before, we all now represent,

I reverently remember you on all occasions of mine,

For I know you would have been proud to see me shine,

Ever lasting was our bond, if someone asks me, I would respond!

Bhagyashree, 15 April 2019

Comments and interpretations always welcome!

Sikkim Dairies coming soon!

Facade of a Face

Mona Lisa , Leonardo Da Vinci’s masterpiece, is undoubtedly the world’s most mysterious painting. Right from the position of the lady’s fingers, to the the uncanny landscape have been questioned since the beginning of time. In this backdrop, I have composed a poem, voicing the inner conflict of the most mysterious lady in the world.

Since the fateful day I was conceptualized,

I was , I am, I will be, minutely scrutinized,

Some say that I have an enigmatic smile,

Others believe I haven’t smiled for a while,

There are theories that I have a lovely veil on,

Cracks bear testimony to the eons bygone,

Concealed or deeply evanesced are my brows,

I was even stealthily possessed by highbrows,

Position of my fingers have raised questions,

Ambiguous landscape have led to speculations,

The realms of my identity have been pondered,

For perpetuation, millions were squandered,

They say I could have been a woman or a man,

I am real or fictitious, knows not even one man,

I have been attempted to be mauled by acid and rock,

Which has led to my new sanctuary in a glass block,

Medical experts claim I was suffering from ailments,

Curious eyes are in search of bridges and calamints,

All these questioning needles have caused immense ache,

All these questions have put my existence at stake,

Am I a canvas of paints or a canvas of questions, mate,

A poet’s imagination, was this supposed to be my fate?

Comments and different interpretations are always welcome!

Till the next time, let’s paint our thoughts aloud through words!