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Smile and close your eyes…

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On the no moon night
When it's darker aroundYou see twinkle in someone's eyes
And hear the cheer in the soundThough the twinkle is for someone else
And the laughter not for youIt gives you steel strength
And a new hope lights in youYou feel the tears in your eyes
And prayer out your lips you hearSomeone’s happiness gives you hope
Their love brings you cheerYou see today is not yours
But tomorrow will comeAnd the twinkle in your eyes return
And the sadness in your voice goneIt's true happiness is contagious
And you can steal someYou have the right to be happy
And you have the right to claim love.
- Megha

Seasons

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This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 44; the forty-fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. It was when the hot tears fell on her hand that she realised she was crying. The hot tears dripped from her hand to the paper her trembling fingers were holding. The already blotched words were now a patch of blue. It wasn't the first time she was reading it. Her eyes had shed tears for hours when she read it over and over while trying to find a word or two of solace. But there were none. Every word was filled with admonition and estrangement that stabbed deeper into her heart. There was no reason to save such a hateful letter but she kept it. It was kind of companion. She read it whenever there were times of adversity. Somehow the letter of hatred provided strength to stand against the problems of life of a single woman. It was not the only reason why she …

Light

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 43; the forty-third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "LIGHT" Being in vacuum must be nothing less than what it’s here now. The emptiness. The darkness, blatant and still. Shocked, I brought my hand to my face but saw nothing. My heart sank in that miserable fear of going blind. If it was a joke it wasn't funny.  Even though its wasn't wise to guess, my mind was pacing, making wild guesses. I could smell the stillness in air, nothing less than death. Something in me tells me I am alone but another part of me could feel presence of something, like in wait, of something or someone. Tired of holding breath, I sigh. The air was damp and cold. The water precipitating on my face trickled down my neck. By now hostility had percolated into my blood and sweat and I was shiver…

The corner chair

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 42; the forty-second edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "COLOR" There you are on the other table
Yesterday you were across mine
How we were together
Like pepper and salt in style

Was it my imagination?
No, I believed it was our fate
Yea we were inseparable
We were called Romeo and Juliet

Now when I look back
I see you never said you love me
I lived in dreams day and night
Created new world around you and me

One day you were gone
With no hint or goodbye
And now I see you on other table
Looking like young and naive

It couldn't be this way
I lost what was not mine?
Sitting in the prison of guilt
Could loving someone be a crime?

I sit in this corner
Wishing I am not seen
But trying hard not to blink
Maybe,our eyes will meet

You talk the words to her
Were they same you said to …

Stop.

Stop. Take a detour.

Memories

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This rain and the dampness
Lonely sole in this forest dense
Brings back our memories
My heart wails in your absenceThe fog takes me back to time
When we used to cross this trail
Hand in hand we used to walk
Never I thought it was so frailI gave it all I can
Tried to mend all mistakes
Maybe they were not so small
That you decided it to breakYear after year
I visit this place
In the name of getting over
I relive our beautiful days~ Megha

Fright and flight

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 40; the fortieth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "MAKE A WISH" Make a wish
Alluded the ball of glass bright
Snow flew inside it
And violin playing lightIt was a beautiful thing
Lucky to stumble on
Never was I asked
To wish anything on mindNow was the time
To ask for everything
Make dreams come true
And drop all witheringBut there was so much to ask
And so difficult to begin
Hundreds of desires
Will I get what’s not my fateWhat do I really want and need
Rose the question
When I blamed society
I was the tangled oneWhat's for me
And what's not right
Quest I searched all time
Answer I can only find insideBut my mind only chattered
Inside was a big chaos
It was the frightful fair
Where I was miserably lostI wanted answers
But it looked impossible
The more I tried
I got only more tangledI lost it …

The storm

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Sometimes days after the story is concluded Comes a restless evening When the silent winds blow Carrying the words of painful ending You think of the reason That changed two lives It was necessary to separate Love had to pay the price Was it early to give in Never in mind this question arose It was beautiful and alive But they buried it like bag of bones It was mutual and sensible Life is about moving on both said They dumped all the memories in a box And pushed in unused room at the end It was past and forgotten Moving on they had decided And their lives had moved on It was easy to be separated than united They lived what was expected of them Always happy they looked Conveniently ignorant of the dark room And the box that was locked Their mind had forgotten about the past And every one thing about the time It was a way of defence To separate from the pain in mind But it was not so simple and easy And an evening came when a storm blew The doors and boxes crumbled The hidden memories drew They pass the corridor And…

Love again

Remember I told you?
That I feel jealous of you
When I see you two together
The incompleteness makes me shudder On new year when clock strikes at midnight
And fireworks splendour in the moonlight
How I wish for a companion
To share my happiness  But now I need not care
For he is coming
To complete me
With his love to share As I sit here by the deserted beach
With splendid colours of the setting sun
Every bit like a fairy dream
So lovely almost like out of reach At one weak moment
I doubt if its all true
What I suffered with you
May come back through I looked expectantly at the drive
Afraid of the history to repeat
For I cannot bear another heartbreak
It would pain more than a knife But there he comes running
I can see the love in his eyes
Leaving behind the past
Now I know it's a new beginning He holds my hand
And lightly kisses my cheek
He whispers sweetest words in my ears, I love you
I hear my blurry words, I love you too

Hand of fate

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Why?
Just when you are so sure of something,
Fate enters and prove you wrong!



They

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You forgive! You accept your fate! But yet...
No matter what...
The memories knock on the door. 

Time tells

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When you are happy
…You are not enough of yourselfAnd when you are sad
…You search for people just for a word

Life is box full of surprises.

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You asked why?
I say, it is... part of the plan
You say, why not a peek at it?
      I say, need not. Believe. It will be grand
You say, but it doesn't look like
I say, you need to give time a hand
You say, but it's killing me
I say, no, it's polishing you, you’ll be surprised with the end
Just Believe! Just Believe!
But again…you still ask why!!

Pause

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 39; the thirty-ninth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "Break" There I was, at the railway station. I had ran for about 5 minutes and I was panting like an old woman, a proof of negligence towards health. When I looked at the indicator I realised that the train was late. Hush, I almost said aloud. I had to reach early today (though I don't remember when was the last time I did not had to reach early).
The place was crowded and as a woman got up for the train downtown, I managed to sneak fast to fill up the vacancy. The fan above was whirling and as it swept gush of wind on to me, I felt overwhelmed with gratitude. Now that I had a seat, I began to worry about the train. Our project was near to go-live, the client was demanding one and we were all so short of time. The del…

The Pursuit: Part 7 (Final)

…continued from Part 6. She then began to run around the ruin. He followed and saw she was standing looking something at the ground. He looked down. A closer look revealed that it was a human body. He was interrupted by someone, “Who was it? the tribal man?” Rishi nodded. “Yes, it was the young man”. “When the police investigated, the whole thing was brought to light. Rahul returned to the village after a few days and found what had happened from the girl”. The girl told him her story. She was from the village below the ruined fort. One of the elder man in the photo was her husband. She was married off to him when she had turned fifteen. It was common in their tribe she said but she didn’t wanted this fate for herself. She rebelled and it was during those days that she met Nathu, the young man in the photo. They fell in love. He was from the other village at the top. Their path never crossed and nobody came to know. They started to meet secretly. The husband used to go to the city on Sat…

The Pursuit: Part 6

…continued from Part 5. He thanked them and left. All was well but a simple fact that the kid was talking the local Marathi language while he refused it’s knowledge on that night. He let it go. He was really fantasizing too much. He continued his way up the mountain taking rest every one hour or so.He now headed to the lake. It was again full moon night when he was at the same place. He was panting as he reached the plain. The dry grass was making swishing sound as the wind played with it. The water was making the slight sounds as it rippled and shimmered in the moonlight. Every thing, every movement was so much same as the last time he was here, that he had that uneasy feeling like the one that deja vu gives you. Everything repeated as if it was the same night. Everything except the presence of the girl. He searched the water surface in the darkness with urgency to see her, with an anticipation but at the same time his heart filled with dreadful fear that he might never see her. She …

The Pursuit: Part 5

…continued from part 4. The whole thing, the events, the doctor’s revelation, everything was disturbing. Nothing was fitting in. Who were they? Was he accidently poisoned or with intent to finish the eye-witness. Were they on a run? Should he go to police? He had made up his mind. He decided to go back. Not only to find the truth of the events. But for the girl. He couldn’t forget the girl and it was almost everyday that he dreamt of her. Not that she was very beautiful but the whole extraordinary circumstance that she had appeared and disappeared made him curious. Her face with the silver ornaments shining against her face kept appearing before his eyes. They gentle way that her petite face had rose through the water with rain dripping was not the thing to be easily forgotten. Even then he had followed her enchantingly and she continued to enchant him in the thoughts. He had to meet her. After that he will be fine and continue with his daily life, he was sure. When he reached the foot …

The Pursuit: Part 4

…continued from Part 3. He tried to sleep but the last event warned him against it. But his body was too tired and refused to cooperate. His eyes closed and his mind into oblivion forgetting about the storm, the fierce youth, the photo and the mysterious girl.As Rishi stopped, the others said in unison, “Then what happened?”He woke up to find himself alone in the ruin. It was already morning. The sun was up in the air. His watch indicated 11 am. His stomach was twitching and he felt sick. He ran outside. As he threw up, he saw something in the puddle of water to his right. It was his phone. There were number of random footprints around. He picked his mobile and tried to remember how it landed there. He tried to recollect if it fell out when the guy came to him for the fight. But it was in his hands and it did not fall, he could remember it clearly. Maybe they tried to steal it. When he tried to operate the phone, he found that it was ruined and was useless. As he handled it, a possibi…

The Pursuit: Part 3

…continued from Part 2. The chamber was dark but there was a light coming from the right opening. There should be another chamber over there, he thought. Little careful he stepped in. “What happened? Was the girl there?” someone asked with urgent curiosity. “No”, Rishi continued, “She was not there. She had vanished. Or perhaps she sneaked from the left opening of the other chamber although she did not had any reason to do so in the grave circumstances of the storm. But there were people inside” “So she was a spirit? Bhoot? You are making this up, Rishi!” they all grunted protesting “No. Why would I?” he protested. “Just like that. Just to make the night more amusing” “Oh no! You think I am this creative. (pause) I can stop if you think it’s all fake” They all looked at each other and shrugged. “Okay”, they said, “Carry on”. There were people inside, sitting against the wall. Light flickered from the lantern hanging from the ceiling. It was enough to introduce them to each other. There wer…

The Pursuit: Part 2

….continued from Part 1. Rishi sat down on the uncut grass and began his story. My friend, Rahul is also a hippie at heart. He likes to travel by the untraversed path. It gives him adrenaline, he tells me. It was one of his offbeat trek. The one that he will never every forget. He was trekking up the mountain in the Western Ghats. He said there was an easy way to the top but he had found a dirt path and the prospect of traveling by that path was enticing to him. The jungle was safe as the animals were minimal and restricted themselves to the jungle at the top. He had anticipated sparse habitation along the slope of the hill and was carrying enough food with him. The only risk was that the jungle was dense and brilliantly cunning. It was a mirage and could loose you all the while you think you are on the right track. He took the risk and started on the tiny track. It was the beginning of June and the monsoon had not reached Maharashtra. But the climate had been cooler than it should hav…

The Pursuit: Part 1

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Sometimes someone else’s grief gives you more pain than yours”, Rishi murmured looking distractedly at the cloud passing animatedly in the sky. It disappeared in the trees only to reappear in the small gap of the dense forest. They were in the veranda of a small cottage at the outskirts of Nimbude village. After an eventful day of adventure followed by extremely delicious food, the friends were lying down in uncut grass watching the clear pollution-free sky dotted by the stars, their mind dabbling in the double pleasure discussing the day and relive it. They had immensely enjoyed the jungle safari and were very happy that they had consented to Rishi's suggestion to come to Nimbude. It was a lovely night and they felt at peace like never before. The wind and abundance of nature melted all their tensions. After a long time they were together, talking their hearts out. As the night wore, their topics drifted from gratitude to complaints. They took turns to keep names and criticize t…

Fragrance of love..

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This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 35; the thirty-fifth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. The theme for the month is "...and the world was silent again" He scrapped the black edges of omelette off the pan and put in his plate. He ate it silently by the window. It was 5 pm and yet it was dark like midnight. The darkness of the night contrasted the snow that accumulated on every object exposed to the harsh nature. He finished his omelette within a few seconds. His stomach growled. He needed food. He wished his wife was with him here. It must be 3:30 am in India, he thought. His mobile phone began to ring. He looked at the display. It was his wife calling. “Ayu, you are still awake? It must be 3:30 am”, he enquired. “I am missing you Adi. I feel very lonely. I wish you were here with me”, she shared the agony in her heart. I wish too, he want…

Children of heaven, movie

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Yesterday I watched “Children of Heaven”, an Iranian film by Majid Majidi. A few weeks back a colleague introduced me to Iranian films. ‘Their cinema is famous. They pick a simple topic, and create a beautiful film on it’, he said. Children of Heaven deals with a brother and sister and their adventures over a lost pair of shoes. It was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film in 1998.The movie is filmed in Persian language and you have to read subtitles to understand but it doesn't make it less interesting. Believe me it doesn't. The film is beautiful and gets close to your heart not because of any extraordinary theme but just because of the opposite, its simplicity. It's simplicity is it’s charisma. And the direction, a magic. The film takes us into the very common life of an Iranian home and after a few minutes you feel you know the family. You empathize with them and think how their life can get better. It's a film which will hold you while wat…