Poetry

By Jyotsna Kalkal काफ़ी है अगर आज कुछ ख़ास नहीं किया ली सिर्फ़ साँसें बस लम्हों को जिया नहीं जीती कोई दौड़ ना शामिल हुए ज़ंग में लगा कर होड़ नए टारगेट नहीं कमाए रोज़ जहाँ पहुँचना था ,नहीं पहुँच पाए फिर भी आकाश मुस्कुराया दिन बीता धरती घूमती रही फूलों ने दिल जीता ठहर कर कुछ पल ज़िंदगी को ख़ुद में भर लिया काफ़ी है अगर आज कुछ ख़ास नहीं किया By Jyotsna Kalkal

By Battu Vania The warmth of the blazing sun, brings back all the childhood fun, makes one forget about the everlasting run. The wind blowing like the notes of a rhyme, reminding us to pause in time, To sit quietly and enjoy life’s little chime. The smell of the fresh mist, what a bliss we often miss. The touch of warm rays on every face, Reminds us of the cherished days of grace. By Battu Vania

By Battu Vania The sparkle in her eyes Still hides all my truth and lies. Her soft voice aches my heart, a sound I can't console. Her graceful smile recalls the time that were ours, Her fragrance still drifts through the starry skies. We dance away this beautiful night as if it were forever ours- Our love so pure, not even death can tear us apart. Forever and always, yours. By Battu Vania

By Battu Vania The stars above glittered and twinkled under the radiant moonlight. The stars dancing and prancing to the songs of heaven from great heights. A little boy with hoping eyes looks up at this gazing starry night. Oh, a shooting star gushes to the earth in the hope of being wished by The eyes of the boy meet the trailing wonder sight. Will it grant him what his dearest heart fights for? It looks like it might, after all. By Battu Vania

By Surabhi Kaushik I feel like I'm riding a paper boat in the sea, Like there's a shadow I must flee, Like everything is blurry, Like your mother looking at you with worry, Like my brain weighs a ton, Like I can't end what was begun, Like I'm looking at myself through a veil, Like it's all I can do to not fall and flail, Like an apology I almost muttered, Like a prayer I wish I'd uttered, Like an unfinished puzzle, Like a perpetual bubble, Like an unending maze, Like mornin

By Tisha Gupta By Tisha Gupta

By Tisha Gupta By Tisha Gupta

By Mahathi Vinodkrishna Back when my emotions lit up the night, My mind and heart were in a silent fight, And when my tears made this ocean flood, I thought, "What is a fight without any blood?" So I tried to write some perfect lines, With this ink that my heart confines. When that story ended and the pages turned, I could have those pages burned. Suddenly, with pain that I could have overlooked, I decided to write a bigger book, But I forgot that my child's hands had grown t

By Mahathi Vinodkrishna To tell you my little allegory, It starts with my mom and a bedtime story. As the tale went on and lost its flow, My mother got up to go. By nature, she walked towards the light, I told her, "Ma, I like it bright". She spared a glance at my feeble protest, Then, I turned off the light and left The darkness, at first, swallowed me whole, Then my mother returned with the light she stole. She apologized for keeping me in the dark, but the light she brough

By Mahathi Vinodkrishna Every day, the thunder roars, The lightning scars, but nothing shows. The wind smothered dust across my face and I decide to walk at a faster pace, since if the world were to see me rain, They really wouldn't understand my pain. I pick up my pace a little more. I see the place I'm reaching for, but watching old friends and song lyrics pass, I realize that I am glass. You thought that colors won't get to you, But you let in every single hue. In more and

By Mahathi Vinodkrishna Wherever, whenever, her face glows. With stares and glares she's forced to throw. They look up to her, they shudder and blink, And under her glare, they do shrink. At a young age, for her, Sharing was right. With no hesitation, she shared her light. She shared with the moon, with whom she played, But the moon, he took her light away. She stands up there and resorts to no violence. Who knows about the beings they silenced? And then when she was fully gr

By Mahathi Vinodkrishna They'd call me a board, they'd call me a wall," But I love it when they stop and stall. I hope they do think it's true, my dusty smile, stuck with glue. I have the clothes, I have the hair, a heart of wood, a chest so bare. My wooden eyes in the mirror they see, the human I was meant to be. Sometimes I watch as the humans stare. I make my frown. This isn't fair. I would cry if wood weren't dry. They were made human, why wasn't I? "It's fine, it's fine,

By Mahathi Vinodkrishna A meadow, a field, the entrance is sealed. He steps in quietly, in the dead of the night. Fields and fields of beautiful flowers, over a single daisy, he cowers. "You're pretty", he smiles. "Can I take you home?" A voice so sweet, a heart made of stone. "What beauty you resemble, I've seen your petals before. If only I could remove them, Wait, I'll close the door. "Pluck me, pluck me", you're screaming "Set me, set me free" "The beauty you emit, should

By Mahathi Vinodkrishna A blast of color on the owl's fore, blood scattered on the forest floor. They burned in anger, their eyes did cry, The blood reflected the public's eye. They raged at a man who stood in shock. A bow in his hand, his eyes in a lock. He mouthed some words: "It wasn't I." "I didn't hit the owl's eye." The men and women they hit and fought. The children and elders, quite a lot. For revenge, with the archer's blood, They made the forest floor flood. The owl

By Mahathi Vinodkrishna Up on top a hedge so high, Home, to where the flock had flown. Grey and black had paddled the sky, and settle, they did on the stone so worn. Lives had blossomed, stories were sung, Their burden on the old rod was hung. The day was anew when the pigeons did fight, With peace anew, whose to enjoy the light? At the heart of the riot, a bird with feathers so bright. They argued, among grey and black, why was there white? As the dispute went forth, the lit

By Mahathi Vinodkrishna This heart bears a tune to which these hands will dance, But this tune has no rhyme at all. Beauty can stall in the most shriveled mind, And ripe leaves in autumn may fall. Love may exist in tragic tales. And happiness can make you cry, For where perfection settles whole, Defect bats an eye. May her diamond ring always shine on a table that garners none. She, whose eyes sing tunes so sweet with a voice from which you'd run. You, my dear, can find magic

By Shriya Mahesh They say all that is lost is found again. The wind encircles me, wrapping me in a mellow embrace, But its dysphoric whispers leave a trace Etched in my heart, it runs through my veins. The stars pirouette in their indecipherable dance, They wink and twinkle at me, the earthlings would call it “science” But really, they just want me to join along They follow me along on my ruminative walk, Their incandescence percolates deep within; they try time and ag

By Sanjana Shome I am my mother's daughter. You’re in pain. Obviously. It’s the quiet kind that screams. Now it’s spilling over—your cup’s too full. And I’m just standing here, useless. I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid. Scared for you. Scared for me, too. Nothing I do helps. Nothing. Thank you for telling me. Really. But it’s a heavy secret, being the only one. I have to look brave for you. So I listen, and inside I’m just… horrified. If I look as scared as I feel, you’ll

By Sanjana Shome I am the one who walks the silver road, who coaxes tides, who remembers the oath. They mutter "Witch" in their harbors—a word I outgrew. I am the thread that time somehow dropped. Long ago, the raw world made a pact with me: the sea would stay sea, the land stay free. And if that line was ever crossed, the waves would heave, the stars go lost. But I watched, quiet, from a sky of bone, as two young hearts dared what shouldn't be done. A girl all scaled in oyst

By Sanjana Shome He makes me laugh, he makes me cry He forces me hollow and leaves me dry. Sometimes it's cold and sometimes it's warm But most of the time it's all just wrong. Is it the way he looks at me or holds me close Or the way he treats me with no remorse. It really is unfair of him to make me feel this way But I still want to stay till each hair greys. I'm a fool to think he’s to change When in the end I'm the one left rearranged. He begs, he pleads to make me stay