top of page


Updated: Dec 6, 2022

By Rangskhembor Mawblei

These are lines you know

drawn by the clouds,

drifting with the wind

defining an empty space.

Our naked eye would have missed

but as they draw,

a new space emerge

nothingness becomes an arena.

Hatching with every drop of it

engraving the soil,

strokes after strokes

again and again and again.

Finally they leave not a mark, but

as I could still feel the mist,

the Sun pierced the clouds

and colour came out, seven of them.

I finally see what they have been preparing

I can't define it's beauty, but

after forty days in an ark

Noah knows how it feels.

By Rangskhembor Mawblei

100 views1 comment

Recent Posts

See All


By Hemant Kumar बेशक ! वो मेरी ही खातिर टकराती है ज़माने से , सौ ताने सुनती है मैं लाख छुपाऊं , वो चहरे से मेरे सारे दर्द पढती है जब भी उठाती है हाथ दुआओं में , वो माँ मेरी तकदीर को बुनती है, भुला कर 


By Hemant Kumar जब जब इस मोड़ मुडा हूं मैं हर दफा मोहब्बत में टूट कर के जुड़ा हूं मैं शिक़ायत नहीं है जिसने तोड़ा मुझको टुकड़े-टुकड़े किया है शिक़ायत यही है हर टुकड़े में समाया , वो मेरा पिया है सितमग


By Ankita Sah How's pain? Someone asked me again. " Pain.." I wondered, Being thoughtless for a while... Is actually full of thoughts. An ocean so deep, you do not know if you will resurface. You keep

bottom of page