The life with my sister

 

Hey Dear Sister,

Warning: Not limited to just praises. LOL.

It does not seem so long ago that we were fighting and bickering over who gets the remote of the television so that we can watch our favourite programs when I visited you to get away from all the craziness of Engineering college only to land in yours. Which consisted of constant differences in our opinions. You with a flexible and fun loving view of leading life and me with a stoic and a rigid view filled with rules to be followed for every small thing. Or shall I say, me with a very introverted nature and you with an extrovert nature. It certainly was no picnic for me. Then there were disagreements, there were our fights, our wrestling for the T.V. remote and, though less frequent, asking for your pretty friends phone numbers (*smile). In other words, you were the complete opposite of me. I had been exasperated, resigned, infuriated, confused, bewildered and very annoyed at times.

And now, you are married. You have become a woman, a wife, a source of inspiration and a beloved partner of someone - his constant companion in everything in this tumultuous journey of life. And let me tell you it is still not easy for me, au contraire, it is now more difficult because now I do not remember the times that I have been angry at you, fought with you or secretly ate the portion of the chocolate that was supposed to be for you (*grin). No! Now all these things seems so petty that they do not matter to the least.

In fact, what appears to be real and what appeals now most to the soft and delicate part of my nature are the memories of you putting cool wraps on my head during high fever, or reminding me in almost a scolding way to take my medicine which I got from Red Cross Hospital,  or making maggi for yourself but still sharing with me a portion of it, or going out to eat at - 'Sagar Gere' or 'Dominos' or whatnot restaurants there were - with me in the evenings, or making macroni for me which you know is my favourite only when you make it, or patiently listening to me ranting about the evil deeds of my ex-girlfriend, etc. the list goes on and on. Everything matters now, every small little thing that appeared to be trivial at that time now holds a certain emotion with it. And that's how life goes on, happiness and good memories happen by the accumulation of small things in life, so never miss them. Also, in addition to that, the most important thing in any relationship, more than love itself, is Respect for each other, rest everything follows. This is a little piece of advice that I give you with all my love for in the beginning of this grand and awesome journey you two are going to embark upon together.

I do not know how many times we will be able to meet in the future, we both are going to be very busy from this point forth. So, I wanted to take this opportunity to tell you what all this meant to me, what you mean to me (I am getting a little teary-eyed here, silly old me). You are my little sister after all. I may now open the gate of your home when I visit Bhopal and not meet with the shrill  yet warm with concern greeting of yours that "You're here". You are beginning a new journey in your life, a journey you may find gratifying to an extent that it may translate into the "meaning of life". Congratulations!

Love you sister!

Love,
Anshu

P.S.: I will still disturb you sometimes with my poetries being published and anything new I write.

P.P.S.: Give my greetings to Abhimanyu and wish him my best.

My post "Fearless" published on Spillwords.com

3rd one Published

Spillwords.com presents: Fearless, by Shubhanshu Shrivastava - I have a keen interest in literature. I have been reading books novels ...

Source: Fearless

Divine

Love is divine,

Or the divine is love.

As the only truth that exists,

As the ecstacy that persists.

Immortal, of the irremovable signs,

A story of past, yet divine.

Waiting

Upon that bench alone he sits,

along with him sits a few misfits.

Heartache and pain,

coupled with unbounded love infused in his every grain.

Twisting & turning,

they take him about,

onto a journey riddled with doubt.

He knows not where, which way to turn,

to rid himself of these incineration and burns.

Memories of love puts a salve on the burn,

yet another misfit arrives - feelings of yearn.

And so return again like fire after rain,

the same feelings of heartache and pain.

He waits for her to come back soon,

that same person before who left his home.

With whom he envisioned a lifetime together,

with whom he was closer than ever,

Yet he sits there - she does not arrive,

was she real or his imagination alive?

She who penetrated his innermost wall,

she whom he trusted like he never trusted anyone at all.

Still, he sits there, tranquil, abating,

journeying with those misfits, yearning and waiting.

Reminisce

Reminisce

He sat on a bench all by himself,
in the same garden, as before.
Looking at the same blossoming buds,
but not the same loneliness, t'was more.

Now the evening seems quiet and dull,
and the dusk has lost its touch,
there are no more chirping of the birds,
just lipless, unhappy smile of the skull.

Quiet, he sat there still,
to recourse that long way from whence he came,
when there was another - match'd with loving steps,
whose name now he breathes in pain.

A rush was it to have her there,
upon that same ol' dusty road,
like a lake that lifeless stood,
now found a way to gush and flow.

He couldn't believe how he found,
such a soul so pure and full of love.
A fool was he that he could't see,
that old sword of deceit still dangled above.

He wept and cried from inside - so full of grief,
when she left his hand and took another path,
and though he could still breathe the air,
it was so full of despair's wrath.

Something shattered within his heart,
maybe the violins playing cupid's tune.
While she distanced - stepped further away,
with tears he stood glancing at the moon.

How he prayed in his every breath,
to again have that nectar of sweetest love.
But alas! Her footsteps with his along the shore,
were wiped by time's unkind tides above.

She came back to him but was it she?
For it was a mere shadow of what she were.
Her approaches were mere perfunctory ones,
her loving words were mere desultory ones.

And he tried in vain to rekindle that fire,
that once held witness to their glorious love,
of ecstasy and passion that learnt from them,
the meaning of kisses, souls merging hugs.

But indeed a mere shadow it was,
dark and unyielding of her former self.
She never came back from that path she took,
as now he sits on that garden bench; melancholic,
reminiscing of who she was, all by himself.

I miss you then

Whenever newer events arise,
I miss you silently in disguise.
Disguise of an empty smile,
sometimes crooked, mindless all the while.

When I wake to the chirping sounds,
outside my window, all around.
Breaking away from your dreams
All I long then is to hear,
your soft whispers in my ear,
your gentle coaxing for me to rise
to stand up and face the day
with all that's best,
not needed to say.
I miss you then and all minutes to come.

As I slowly, in a daze,
discern tiny droplets touching my face,
it slowly dawns upon my mind
it's raining outside, with a pain.
I wish then to take a ride,
with you throughout, by my side.
We go to the hills perhaps,
a silent, overwhelming, beautiful space,
your sweet kiss and warm embrace.
I miss you, sitting in this crowded yet, a lonely space.

The lonely evenings spent alone,
without your concern, without your scold,
I loose myself in my closed room,
and go to the place where memories bloom.
I miss you then in every breath,
as I slowly drift between disguised smiles and gloom.

Fearless

For those who are sad, in despair, giving up or just disappointed and discouraged. This will help and give you strength, you might be able to relate at least a few lines to your own life.

When crossroads came and I had to,
I always chose the hardest of them all,
they bent me in those twisted ways,
which made me stand apart and tall.

I am glad they did not kill,
and I knew my mettle through the tests,
which came and went as swift,
as the sun and moon's unrest.

I often shivered of the fear,
as crippling as it can be,
to face those demons that stood before,
but struck them nonetheless therefore.

There are far more wiser and braver still,
many people that I know,
gone through even harder times,
but vigilant, in the summers, rain or snow.

But I must not be sad or even shy,
to admit a person's worth.
For I am not less, and can't deny,
I have been bloodied too, and tasted dirt.

So even when the flames engulf,
the consequence of my sweat and blood,
I will not crumble or fall apart to lose,
but get up and rebuild, again by worn out tools.

Even if I am hung to dry,
by fools upon those steady gallows,
I will breathe again, and be heard,
by my thundering roars and bellow.

Embrace

I wrote this some time back. Though the situation is very different now, the feeling was worth writing about.

 

A warm summer's sweet delight,
closer, looking in her eyes,
sitting huddled in the sand,
beside the tides, earth's heaving sighs.

Passions high, entangled limbs,
kisses balmier than a rose's lips.
Sunset, dusk and moonlit nights,
all merry, all rejoice.

Heavenly abode, where else it is?
where lies mankind's most craving smiles?
Where but in love's most embracing arms!
Where but in those stolen glance!

Mine?

Oh! How exquisite are the flowers!
How enthralling their smell!
that wafts with the breeze.
How poised is the moon!
gleaming above, full with beauty,
hooking the heart with such an ease.

In the moonlight there stood she,
a hand outstretched, lazily, towards me,
a wounded battle-scarred young man which shook
of terrible aches of heart and body and mind,
the damsel, mending me, but slowly it took.

I was drawn towards her in that pleasant rain,
getting up, mending, slowly, inspite the pain.
I looked up towards the life I want,
embraced in the soulful dance, love entrant,
Delved so deep, no can or can't.

She took withered hands of mine in hers,
and kissed each in turn with her lips divine,
waking me up, shaking me up,
swelling with joy, welling tears of love enshrined,
her soothing whispers, kisses untimed.

I was halfway up to her embrace,
halfway through to complete this race,
a race with myself, to leave behind,
insecurities, torments, timidity and memories unkind,
And then, I belonged, from my heart and mind.

She smiled and kissed me leaning halfway down,
murmuring those words & I was a king without a crown,
I prayed and prayed and yearned the end,
the doubts in my heart and my body to mend,
I was happy, jovial - in bliss, without pretend.

I was about to reach to my fullest height,
towards that dream of divine love at first sight,
Yet her hold slackened upon my hand,
and her gaze turned cold as Hades's land.
I was drifting again to the world of pain,
with no hand to pull me out of this shame.

I woke up sweaty and with a start,
in hope to hold onto whom I gave my heart,
But where was she? Where vanished that appeal?
Where was that world, that girl and those feelings ethereal?
Was it all inside my mind? Or was it real, truthfully, love defined?
I hope to know, I hope to find,
through all the tribulations and promises kind,
were they false, a figment of mind or was she mine!

Dauntless

When you are happy to sit through,
alone among lots of friends, fake.
And you don't feel the need,
to depend for depending's sake.

When all your expectations are turned to dust,
yet to feel you incurred no loss.
It takes no toll to sit with comfort,
to ponder upon expectation's cause.

When you are met with disdainful looks,
From all around by hostile eyes.
And you agree to let it be,
notice how blissfully time flies.

When you are left to fend for yourself,
in every trouble that comes your way.
Make your efforts just the double,
to learn your worth, to be unafraid.

And when the time comes at the last,
when other's crumble beneath the weight.
You remain elate and sturdy, unbowed,
and in the smouldering eyes of trouble,
you will sit up, unflinching and look straight.

To Bloom — Shubhanshu 's

In the darkness, in the night, A flower of feeble might. Stands alone upon a twig, Beneath the moon pearly bright. Yearning for a few drops of rain, To find a flower to stand beside, And stand beside, together Extinguishing both their pain. In the drier days and lonesome nights, when the flower was about […]

via To Bloom — Shubhanshu 's

Beside the Styx

Hey! Hello everyone. I wrote this piece a while back. Upon reading you may find it to be a blend of greek and christian mythology. It just sort of popped into my mind, and believe you me, I made the story as the poem progressed. Enjoy reading! :)

I saw it in her eyes again,
The same forgotten sighs in vain.
For she a goddess and I so low,
With a broken crown on an iron brow.

Love and being her man I beseeched,
From the calmly flowing styx,
And I found there a paler crowd,
With grin and cruel scorns commix.

I did pray singing a doleful song,
A melody with grief I tried,
To make her listen with a mourn,
With a heave and tear run in my eyes.

But she was up and in those glades,
At the side of a knight with a sword,
A sword tainted with the blood,
Of that unsaid love who lived unguard.

I found but a lowly croak,
Emanating from the ungraceful self,
Too filled with sadness upon that reef,
Too choked with madness and the grief.

Forgetting from which way I came,
I ventured to the black castle grand,
Made with flesh and the bones,
The underworld’s lord standing with open hands.

“O! How came you upon this dwelling?”
"And What made you venture forth?”
Gliding and with a smile he asked,
Watching this mortal frame unmasked.

“I am a jilted mortal as such,
Who fell in love with a goddess, shame,
For who am I to be of worth,
Of her love, this unworthy name”

“Cry not hear and don’t be ‘fraid” said he
“For as I come near to thee,
And tell you about your way to Elysium,
For you are true in your pursuit indeed”

“It’s a long way up and without a horror,
And you can go for you can,
For you did love and here it led,
And you followed what the lord hath said”

I bent my knee and folded my hands,
Devoted for come what may,
I know now what is so much near,
A thin veil between love and death till this day.

To Bloom

In the darkness, in the night,
A flower of feeble might.
Stands alone upon a twig,
Beneath the moon pearly bright.

Yearning for a few drops of rain,
To find a flower to stand beside,
And stand beside, together
Extinguishing both their pain.

In the drier days and lonesome nights,
when the flower was about to die,
A smaller shoot, feebler still,
Showed up upon the lonesome twig.

It sprouts up, beside the flower glum,
And begins to bud shortly then,
Intertwining under the scorching sun,
Extraordinarily 'cuter', and the music begun.

It bought the flower back to life,
A life, in all the withering seasons,
A life which was about to die,
And would have dried up and forgotten,
Forgotten in the times nigh'.

Both brought the other back from doom,
And henceforth expelled all the gloom,
As a new life came upon that tree
With the flowers's stupendous bloom.

Heart..... (Micro Poetry)

how?

I do not know how to gain more followers,

it seems I am just a toddler in this world of blogging.

Any suggestions?

On the sea

What a life it would be,

To be just me and the sea.

Flailing afloat, drifting about,

With the most highest tides, I would joust.

In the misty air full of life,

Where lay a calm everywhere,

With the drenching rains,

With the calmest ebb,

And the highest tide.

Rejoicing in the storms of morn,

Regaling in the calm of night,

And they might change just the same,

Put down by spirit might.

Twisting and turning, up and down,

It will take you where you need to go.

And if you find yourself in the sea,

It may be the best resting place you can be.

For what more gallant than resting in

Even if defeated, valiant, clashing its thunder and din.

To lay with peace in that watery grave,

An aftermath only for the bravest of brave.

Published

Published finally. Do check out and give your rating as per your liking from the link given below:

http://spillwords.com/dreams-and-thoughts/

The truth of Life

Beyond this day, if we shall find,

a loss of will to yearly stroll,

and seek the meek embrace,

of beloved sleep and swelling toll.

 

It means we will soon in time,

see life's greatest truth.

An old friend will come and greet,

in the morning chirps or night owl's hoot.

 

He, the death, is most trustworthy of our ends,

rest were just mirthless games,

of old friends or foes, doubtful,

devious, with varied masks they played.

 

He stands behind every door,

to shake your hand one day

just nod and smile, same jovial mood,

when maybe few times in your life

you pass those menacing corridors.

 

Do not fear but be delighted,

it is the fate of every being.

Like the butterfly from its cocoon,

it is a new, another journey yet to be seen.

 

Live the life free of hate,

and grasp his hand with a merry look.

Pass free of any bounding yearning,

as there is no question in the end

of what you made and what you took.

 

It is the divine truth of life,

ugly sometimes it may seem.

But death is the ultimate absolute,

of every mortal, every life, resolute.

 

He is the constant companion of every being,

Oblivious to their actions in life.

Standing between heaven and earthen layer,

as an unalterable truth,

with every soul and every prayer.

Invictus by William Ernest Henley

"The poetry that inspired a nation". I am sharing here the favourite poetry of Nelson Mandela and one of my favourites as well. It is 'Invictus' by William Ernest Henley.

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

I am the captain of my soul.

Relationship

This post is not going to be poetry. Instead it is going to be a mode of self-reflection for me and getting out there and trying to find if 'you', people reading this feels the same way, has undergone something similar in their relationships.

I am from India. I am currently in a relationship with this wonderful girl. I have been in relationships before but they were not too great. Infact it will not be wrong to say that they were downright doomed to fail (of course I did not realise this at that time, how could I?). However, my relationship with this girl is nothing like I have ever experienced. Sure the fights are there, heartaches, small misunderstandings, but when we are in each other's company, we are so lost in each other as if nothing else in this world exists.

But still, the wounds of my past relationships keeps haunting me. I completely dedicated myself emotionally to them but failed miserably. Maybe I was at fault, maybe not. These crushed sentiments and feelings has crept to the innermost part of my sentiments and I started believing two things simultaneously - I will never be able to find a true partner ever and that I will always end up being hurt as no true love really exists.

Shiwani changed everything. She came and made me realise that not only can I find a real connection but also a partner who can be very dedicated like me. Still, the torment I felt after my failed relationships left scars which still haunts me and which still exists in my mind. Constantly in my relationship as soon as something does not happen as it should I start doubting and fearing if this will also fail. As if it is too good to be true and its just a matter of time before she will leave me too for something else, someone else. The most cursed object is my above average intelligence (not bragging, I know where I stand - I am not a genius but much better than average), notices small things to the minutest of details and extrapolate a pessimistic viewpoint of it all in relation with my insecurity of being left again.

Every relationship needs a little work. And I need to improve. I need to completely forget the past. We have decided that we will get married. Though there is still work to be done on our relationship, we both realise that we both are meant to be together. Its a mutual feeling that none of us say out loud but both realise it in our bones. It is an unsaid understanding between us that it was simply not by chance that we found each other. The most surprising of all the things, and I admit it will sound far-fetched even absurd, is that after fights in our initial stage of relationships there was something like an invisible force that time and again pushed us towards each other every time we tried to go our separate ways. It is unbelievable! Funnily, its as that Hindi movie says, the universe conspires to bring us together. And no I am not delusional, under full consciousness I am claiming this. She loves me. All we need to work out now is synchronising our emotional connection levels. Most often than not, I behave as a child, I demand attention that she keep talking to me 24*7, when that doesn't happen, I get fussy. She takes care of me. Sometimes I still get afraid she will leave too. The past doesn't seem to leave easily. Sometimes I feel there might be someone else but at the same time I know that she will never do that. But the fear is so overpowering that I crumble beneath it like a house of cards.

Can someone relate to it? Mind is really a very weird thing. I wish to give her all the happiness in the world but for that I need to be happy with myself. My conscience feels I do not deserve so much love, that it will not last, that she might leave any moment. Although I was always the one who was left in the past, I do not know what strange mechanics is it of my mind that makes me question whether I deserve this or not. My relationships were never superficial from my end they were always honest and true. I think that is what has left the deepest scars with a great amount of pain and I think that is why my mind is stopping me to completely dedicate myself, to give myself away completely. It will happen because inspite of the past, comparatively, I have never loved any girl like this. I just wish she be patient with me, that the past do not repeat itself.

Dancing in the moonlight

I picked myself up from
the shallowing mist aground,
and jumped up with joy,
and climbed up suffering’s mound.

I punched up the air,
cutting it slim and through.
I kept leaping up the land,
where blissful, lazy green grow.

Music and songs none played ‘fore
but they were not needed,
the beats of my heart took it on,
pleasure made my feet's rhythm, and mind
songs from every lore.

it stirred a memory, of the most comical kind,
etched so deep in the past that is now well-behind.
When I was lot less smarter but happier still,
when feelings were not so complex,
sadness - crying and joy was pure bliss.

It was when I could jump on the bed,
play the old music system,
and dance with a thrill.
It was when I couldn’t open any jar’s lid,
it was that time when I was a kid.

So I danced on, living that memory,
in which I was jumping and shouting,
to the melodious music that was enchanting.
So jubiliated, I moved with a passionate zeal,
and reminiscing, i kept dancing in moonlight beams.

Love signs - Cap & Virgo

The following abstract is taken directly from the famous book of Linda Goodman's Love Signs and is dedicated to My virgo.... sharing this while sitting in my office due to overwhelming feeling of how much I am missing her, she's on a trip right now.

So here goes......the bold parts I found to be really awesome......

 

VIRGO Woman CAPRICORN Man

"Oh dear! I am sure I sometimes think spinsters are to be envied." Her face beamed when she exclaimed this.

You remember about her pet wolf. Well, it very soon discovered that she had come to the island and it found her out, and they just ran into each other's arms.

As with everything else in astrology, there's a reason why Virgos are symbolized by the Virgin. Both sexes. If the truth be told, almost every Virgo would prefer to live alone forever. (Not necessarily as a literal virgin, of course, but unmar- ried.) The Virgo woman is seldom thrilled by the thought of trying to match her life style to the habits of another person (especially if the other person has messy habits). It's a terrible dilemma for her, actually, because she can fall in love as deeply and as liltingly as any other woman. And once she's fallen in love, she's tortured by conflicting feelings.

She's aware that she'd be much more comfortable in a relationship recog- nized and respected by both the law and society. Namely, legal marriage. Sec- ond, when she truly loves a man, she feels it's her duty to marry him, bear his children, darn his socks, grate his celery and carrots, keep his shirts from humi- liating him (and her) with ring-around-the-collar, help him with his income tax, all those necessary human burdens. Her lovely, clear eyes become cloudy, and her pure forehead wrinkles with worry over the situation. The more she ana- lyzes it, the more troubled she is. Fortunately, she's an Earth Sign, not an Air Sign like Libra. If a Libra lady had the Virgin's problem, she'd really go ba- nanas, trying to decide what to do. Virgo will keep her cool while she's analyzing all the details of her marital dilemma, and view the whole thing in a reasonably calm manner. But she may bite her nails a lot, and those worry wrinkles will re- veal her inner turmoil. Mostly, she'll keep it within, hash it out with herself, Narcissus-like, while she's still unsure.

The plus side of her conflict over whether or not to marry we just covered a paragraph or so ago - all those reasons why she feels she should give in and re- nounce her single status. The minus side is what marriage means - or what it will probably mean to her, as a Virgo. It will mean adjusting her life to the whims of another individual, adapting herself to being constantly on call, 24 hours a day, to cook, sew, make small talk, make love, have children, raise chil- dren, dust, sweep, clean ... then there's the laundry, the bills, the necessity for compromise concerning social activities and a hundred other areas where her preferences and those of her husband might clash. (Virgos hate clashes. Clash- ing makes them nervous.)

Despite her reputation for neatness, cleanliness and tidiness, not every Vir- go woman in the world is a born homemaker. In fact, very few of them are. (We'll discuss why a little later.) Consequently, the possibility of becoming a household drudge is high on the list of the reasons she'd rather not wed - and it's why lots of Virgo girls decide early in life that the institution of marriage is for the weak-minded. But then, there are always one's friends, relatives and neighbors to consider. What will they think of her decision to remain single? And what of her responsibility to the man she loves? How can he possibly man- age without her by his side at night and in the morning, in case he should need something, and she's all the way crosstown? If they don't legally marry, but just find a suitable apartment halfway between her job and his job, and live to- gether, wouldn't she be forced to do all those wifely things for him anyway (become a household drudge) even though they weren't actually man and wife? I can answer that for her, without spending a lot of time analyzing it. Yes, she would.

So the Virgin is left with the choice of either remaining a virgin - or be- coming his bride. These are the only two sensible solutions for a lady who feels such a sense of duty toward her lover that just seeing him every other day or so isn't enough to remove her nagging worry that he might need her in some way during those hours they're apart. If you haven't already gathered that most Vir- go women privately enjoy being needed (never mind how they complain about it) then consider yourself informed now that they do.

Should the man she loves happen to be a Capricorn, her dilemma is a waste of perfectly good hours which could have been profitably spent otherwise. If she's involved in a meaningful affair with a Goat, she can forget analyzing. Not always, but at least eight times out of ten, a Capricorn man who really loves a woman will either make her his proper and respectable wife - or leave her and grow bitter, nursing his loss for years, rather than consent, for any length of time, to a relationship that isn't legally, socially and religiously sanctioned, or is contrary to general custom - and especially one that could conceivably be frowned upon by his sainted family. The sexual revolution has changed many former traditions, patterns and concepts, but it has not yet made a dent in the basic Sun Sign per- sonality of the Goats. Nor is it likely to do so in the near future. It will take sever- al generations to convince Cappy that living in sin is not living in sin, even when he's reluctantly living in it. Besides, he nearly always will want a family, this man - and he's not about to bring up his sons and daughters illegitimately, de- prived of the great privilege of bearing his family name. That's unthinkable. It's sacrilegious. Even worse, it would be humiliating.

Another reason it's difficult for the Virgo woman to avoid marriage with her Goat is because the two of them are emotionally guided in their love relation- ship by the 5-9 Sun Sign Pattern, the most basically compatible vibration the planets see fit to bestow upon mortals. It isn't an absolute guarantee of happi- ness, naturally. Even 5-9er's have to work at it - and there are always those few 5-9 couples whose Luminaries are in adverse aspect between their birth charts. They'll still be unusually sympathetic to each other, but may find it hard to compromise their disagreements. Nevertheless, it's a beneficent influence to have as a foundation for love, and whether 5-9 lovers exchange a positive or neg- ative natal Sun-Moon aspect between them (in addition to their trined Suns) they are always more miserable when apart than most other men and women who separate for one cause or another.

So there's really not much use for her to indulge in a dance of doubt with this man. When the Virgin and the Goat first meet, they'll feel a karmic tug of long ago and far away, mixed with an almost instant empathy and comprehen- sion of one another's viewpoints. Their auras blend, lock into place harmonious- ly - and after that, untangling them is as difficult and delicate a task as untan- gling the fur balls of a Persian kitten. (Most Virgos own a cat or two. Virgos have a thing about cats. They either worship them or they can't stand to be in the same room - or even the same neighborhood - with anything feline. But they are never just neutral about pussycats.)

These two communicate beautifully, whether they're dancing (which they don't do often, especially not on a night before they both have to be at work or school early the next morning), just talking and relaxing, working on a project together ... or making love, which is a mutual endeavor they'll both enjoy tre- mendously. Neither of them finds it easy to be natural regarding sex. Secretly, each of them has always feared that he (or she) is inadequate in some way. But when the Virgo girl melts snugly into the secure arms of the Capricorn man she loves, she seems to lose all her coolness, detachment and inhibitions. Likewise for him, when this woman nestles trustingly against his shoulder in the dark, then moves uncertainly nearer.

Their need grows slowly, until it becomes deep and overwhelming. When two Earth Signs express their desire for each other physically, their feelings can be mighty powerful-in a word, earthquaking. The girls he used to know and maybe thought he loved - the men she used to know and wondered if she loved - would be amazed. Until they discovered an emotion they could trust to be wholly reciprocal, both the Virgo girl and the Capricorn man may have been more than once accused by others of being cold and romantically unresponsive. That's why their sexual union is frequently such a warmly intimate interlude within their other levels of togetherness. It may be the first time they have ever felt free to just be themselves, holding nothing back, loving with an abandon and a sense of human completeness they always wistfully longed to know and to share, but were never quite able to attain with anyone else - until they found each other and were able to experience an unexpected earthquake of passion.

Although Goats aren't excessively sensitive, the 5-9 cord that binds them will allow the Goat to treat the little baby torments and traumas of his Virgo woman with more genuine consideration than is normally his custom. He knows what it's like to endure agonies of guilt and frustration over exaggerated self im- ages of neglecting responsibility. Indeed, the moods of depression with which the kindly, earnest Goat is periodically afflicted, often stem from the same twinges of self-criticism and self-chastisement his Virgo lady suffers. He tends to discipline himself as severely as she does herself, holding his hurt inside, like her, restricting his emotions as she does, seldom allowing them to escape into the freedom of natural expression.

As for those scattered areas of tension between them, they could arise if she's overly critical of his family in any way or nags a bit too much. All Goats tend to balk and butt with their stubborn horns when they're nagged or pushed. Some quarrels could be caused by his refusal to spend enough time talking with her about the hundreds of things she reads and hears that stimulate her active, alert mind. She likes to always be either verbally analyzing something or phys- ically doing something. Idleness bores her and makes her restless, whereas his metabolism and day-to-day behaviour are keyed to a much more leisurely, re- laxed pace. Then too, there's his self-protective Saturnine selfishness - the Capricorn "me first" attitude he's seldom aware he possesses. Should he take undue advantage of her instinctive unselfish urge to serve, their relationship can become lopsided, and she could resent it inwardly for a long time before it spills over into a serious confrontation.

Then she might decide she was right in the first place about a single life being the only sensible and peaceful way to live, pack up her vitamins, her diction- ary, her pocket calculator, her toothbrush and other personal belongings - and leave him. The separation may not last long. In a month or so, after she's set- tled into her bachelor girl's apartment, luxuriating in being a loner again, she'll surprise herself with her own tears some night, in the stillness she thought would be peaceful, but turned out to contain instead only the awful ache of emptiness. She'll realize she misses snuggling in his arms . . . his soft, twinkling Goat's eyes and his shy humor... even his occasional gruffness, his grumpy moods and his unthinking selfish moments that hide such a gentle, devoted and loyal heart. As gentle, devoted and loyal as her own.

Is that the doorbell ringing? Yes, it is. Surprise! It's him. He has the perfect excuse to stop by and see how she's doing without him. She made a mistake and took his toothbrush when she left. He is returning hers, so they can trade. She stares at him for one shocked moment, then exclaims, "But I didn't notice, and I've already been using your toothbrush for nearly a month!" He'll tell her he didn't notice either right away, and he's been using hers. Then they'll run into each other's arms, because they'll know there's no use fighting it any longer. They love. How could they possibly have used each other's toothbrushes if they didn't? They couldn't. For Virgo and Capricorn, that's the ultimate intimacy, the final proof of destined Oneness. Otherwise, obviously, they would both have surely turned into stone statues as punishment for such an improper trespass against custom, so warned against in childhood as a no-no. Unexpectedly, the

two of them feel as free as birds! He drives her back home, so sweetly familiar, but still feeling free, instead of going inside, they race each other into the back yard. He takes off his stuffy tie, and tosses it over the outstretched arms of the nearest tree ... she removes her uptight Virgo sandals ... and they dance bare-foot in the moonlight, under the surprised stars, the grass tickling their toes deliriously, intoxicated by the heavy fragrance of honeysuckle vines. Finally, they fall down beneath the tree, laughing and crying at the same time ... and sud- denly, without warning, it's silent between them. The only sound is the chirping of crickets. They both know what the silence means. Sometimes, need won't wait. After all, it's their yard, it's surrounded by a high wall, tall spruce and hedges, and the neighbors are asleep.

It's about time they broke the chains of restriction, to learn that love will not be imprisoned by anyone's rules. From far away in the distance, Virgo's true ruling planet, Vulcan, thunders approval... while in the sky overhead, Saturn weeps with a strange and unaccustomed joy. After a time, a soft, steady rain be- gins to fall. They don't even notice. His very best tie will surely be ruined. But who cares? His Virgin will knit him a new one, now that she's back home, where she belongs.

That night, of course, there was an earthquake - though not the kind that can be measured on the Richter scale.

A broken shoe

There was a broken shoe,
Lying upon the greenest grass,
Under a tree, inside a park.
Who left it there, nobody cared,
Discarded as if it was spared,
From the constant beating upon the ground,
From the roughest course run around.

It was once worn by a worldly man,
Like the shoe, was he broken too?
Who knows what laurels he took,
From a glance upon this shoe's look.

When he casted it aside,
Like one should when broken beliefs arise.
Used when good then sauntered off,
This is life's way, to let unhappiness depart.

If you wear these broken shoes for long,
You might trip or you may fall.
We all get some shoes broken sometimes,
But learn to mend or leave them behind,
It takes a little time to abide
But cast it nevertheless aside.

So run or walk, brisk or slow, with a pair of new,
Wear and make use until it's a broken shoe.

Wife

Finally completed......

I sit dazed in the sunlight,
And in the moonlight, ablaze,
I weep, quietly coursing the night.
Never had I found before,
This feeling of love so much,
Like a long lost boat, making, finally to the shore.

She was like a silvery dream,
In the mind when I closed my eyes,
Wherever I looked, in every gleam.
Oh! How she swept a glance of my face,
And kissed upon these mortal eyes,
With love and caring and exuding warmth,
Fair with lowered gaze in every case.
Her warm caresses, soft and tender,
Melted my stony heart,
And when I held her hand,
I felt we were two but one part.

Was it a dream? For I cannot find,
Her arms around my neck,
Laying next to me with caresses kind.
Should I call it a dream?
When all I can see,
Is her face in every face, and feel
Her presence in every breath.

When I opened my eyes or turned to see.
And I wish she knew,
I miss her dearly every second, right,
In every breath, every day,
of what we used to have,
In every smile, in every fight.

She is my love, my life,
My moon and stars, as they say,
My very being, my unwedded wife.

(This is when the guy gets the girl and they get married)

I was young then,
When I devoted my soul,
For "I will take thee", only her,
As my other half, as my forever goal.

Still is, it true, after years spent,
Waking up to her scent next to me,
In the bed, in the pillow,
In my breath, in the sunlight's glow.

Her morning kiss to awaken me,
From the slumber sweet where I rested,
Where I was with her with my closed eyes,
Sees her again blissfully, smiling love infested.

She bought with me in the run,
Two more lives beloved to me,
See a beautiful girl and a naughty lad,
Both with her eyes and her features and a little of me.

They run and scream and play,
In their grandparents laps they dance.
And she smiles and I wonder about,
If all this is a dream by any chance.

We got older now, we got weary,
Saw life together so much, a little bleary.
Retired now from my work and act in life,
She still is beside me and I am,
Still drunk of her, still overjoyed and cheery.

Older we got, few light left in our eyes,
We saw our lives pass by,
But foremost the moment when,
We took each other hands and,
Vowed in sickness and in health to never depart,
In this life or others to come,
She is mine and I am her's,
No matter how far we are apart.

We will be together for eternity to come,
as we were in the tribulations and fights,
and through squabbles and trifles,
Our love is like the sun's flight.

Life will bring us back how lost we may be,
For we are but each other's soulmate,
Bounded by love, bounded by fate.

And I am so withered now, aged',
That I cannot think what I leave behind,
But her hand still in mine,
I say unto life - "it has been most kind".

Now I'm leaving this earth,
With not the painful cry of strife,
But with my life flashing, and with a smile,
I'll meet her again - my beloved, my wife.

अतीत

Hey guys, it's in hindi. Writing for the first time in hindi. Please share your views about it.......

ये अतीत के जज़्बात अजीब होते हैं,

गुज़रा हुआ वक़्त निकल तो जाता है,

मगर यादों से मन में बेसबब होते हैं।

गुमसुम जब रहता है तू, बैठता अंधियारों में,

दो बोल नहीं बोलता, सहमता है किसी के क़दमों की आहट से।

बोझ वो भारी लेकर चलता है,

भटकता शहर के अंधे उजियारों में।

कोई दिखता नहीं राहजन चलते हुए,

कोई बढ़ाता नहीं हाथ साथ निकलते हुए।

कहते हैं मगर इश्क़ में मशगूल होते हुए,

कि देंगे साथ, कदम-कदम चलते हुए।

मगर चलता कौन है साथ यह बातें ही महज़ होते हैं,

मुहब्बत सच्ची हो तो ही चल पाते,

कि राह पर कांटे भी गज़ब होते हैं।

दर्द की दीवार से जब टकराते हो,

वो ही पुराना गाना गुनगुनाते हो,

इंसान नहीं वो जज़्बात याद आते हैं,

उन दिनों को जब वापस बुलाते हो।

मगर वक़्त मुस्कराना फिर सिखा देता है,

फिर क्यों ग़मों को गले लगाते हो।

फांद जाओ वो दीवार अगर न तोड़ सको,

क्यों खुद से ही बेअदब पेश आते हो।

लोग रहते हैं खुश अपनी दुनिया में,

तुम छोड़ो क्यों दर्द के गीत गाते हो।

I am

I am a rusty car in your backyard,

Which has lost its touch at novelty.

But still it possess the mighty touch,

Of the godforsaken time's cruelty.

 

I am the barren old tree,

With one leaf just hanging still.

On the wild land of rocky slope,

Which has never known of care and till.

 

I am that empty reservoir,

Which hosted a spree of quenching thirst.

To the whole city or small village of beasts or man,

Without dividing who comes third or first.

 

I am those empty caverns filled,

The dwelling past of some mighty beasts.

That upheld now an empty fear,

Nothing the most but to the least.

 

I am those airy castles grand,

Which saw the grandest feasts and wars as well.

But now host some frequent crowd of logs,

Who has lost their souls and the heart it dwell.

 

Can you discern who am I, see?

For only then can you revive me.

I am rare now in those empty logs,

I am true now only to those who wrought,

I can be built up above the highest top,

I am that feeling that's too hot for the cold lot.

 

Guess who I am, where I stand,

Can you discern where or what I am?

Okay, if no, then you read on,

I am that makes you survive and live,

When you jump off the highest top,

When you slide down the steepest slope,

I am within you, your joy and hope.

It's me

I laugh with you,

I can be funny,

I can be very charming,

When I want to be.

I talk little and I write a lot,

For you, words I constantly brew,

And People think I am very shrewd.

I crack jokes,

I make fun through,

I laugh with you. But

Cry when alone in room small,

I am the guy who feels it all.

I am jovial,

With you friends, I am great and cool,

But if come a time when you wonder and it grow,

Within, I'm the loneliest guy you'll ever know.

I miss writing poems

I miss writing poems.

My pen gliding fluidly on paper,

My thoughts flowing freely,

Writing the things I want to say.

I miss writing poems.

Every verse and rhyme,

The thought of you everytime

I write words in verses.

The mere thought of you

Kept me writing poems

Lets me say to you

Things I’m too afraid to utter.

I miss writing poems

Showering you words of longing

The mere memory of you

Wants me to keep writing.

Alas, I cannot.

For I have lost myself.

I have stopped writing poems

The moment I stopped my feelings for you.

Still I do miss writing poems.

The same way I miss you.

Your voice calling my name

Was enough to get me writing.

One last time

Before I stop writing poems for you.

I will get back to writing poems

But this time, I’ll write it for myself..

-the wrestless pen

Smile

When the sun is up,

And the cool wind blow,

She wakes up in that morning, slow.

Her fair eyes search for light,

For she is in a cell alone, her oldest plight.

Wrongly accused of what she would never do inspite.



She speaks in her voice,

A hoary one,

To the best person she knows,

Second to none.



“Good morning”, she utters thus,

The walls, the earth unmoved,

The gods yet nonplussed.

She expects the world to revolt,

To understand and feel her sorrow,

Yet it remains just the same,

The present and the morrow.



She sits down on the cot and weep,

Full of wounds in her heart so deep.

Then, she feels a touch so soft,

Softer than the floor of her loft.

She turned behind with murderous eyes,

Where stood a dove,

After a perilous flight.

She casts aside all,

The jewels she withheld,

In that forever prison,

Of fear and solitude she held.

Her palm engulfs the dove so warm,

A life beating in her hands,

Sweet, serene, blissful and calm.



She feels a surge of hope and joy,

A will to jump to the moon and fly.

She brings it to the windowsill,

And feels the glow, of the morning sun.

Kindling in her that long lost thrill.



The dove soars high,

Higher, up in the sky,

And farther it went,

Farther than a mile,

Leaving behind a maiden,

With a smile.

Beholden

Her eyes reflected the love of mine,

that tumultuous ocean in her gaze.

I went out of this embodied self,

and yearned to get out of that selfish maze.

I reap what I sowed of all my seeds deep,

to love or anguish comes to me, and I plead.

Ha! The angelic bells the farthest heaven rang,

in the moment's depth as she touched my hand.

Her hair in disarray, her eyes speaking its voice,

"Who art thou?" asks it in Shakespearen vice.

My whole body sways of that feeling of oldest fashion,

the mind lost, eyes watching,

the passionate dreams, all in succession.

It pleases me more, to look in her eyes,

to search the heart where that love resides.

Pleasures of those kinds, I yearn to possess,

to tell her with a kiss and my heart's warm caress.

She looks away, her contemplation dwells,

the sorrow in her eyes, her throat swelled.

Was I the man she must have sought?

Or the fate was righteous of what she has already got?

She sees the storm that my eyes protests,

the unspoken fervor, at my sealed lips behest.

Hence she be happy, augment her joy manifold,

for the image of her face and frame,

will my heart forever behold.

Homeward

The sky opened up, the clouds parted,


the first drops of drizzle it departed.


The leaves stood still, the lake calm, in mourn


had it still if it knew about,


the cloud’s tears, the upcoming storm.


The trees sigh in relief,


‘pittar-patter’ it speaks, its language so sweet.


Stems so joyous, the otherwise dusty leaves,


the saddening flora, so green!


The birds chirping, on that old oak,


the flowers blooming, so peaceful, serene.


It stops!


Wafting in the air, sweetness drifts,


so sweet, it enchants and entangles,


healing all wounds indeed.


In this blessed realm,


I thought of her, suddenly,


The old woman, that kindest soul, agree


Who smiles and showers,


her sweet kisses on me.


The rays of sunshine parts aside,


the greyer clouds where that loudest thunder resides.


I came out of that canopy, from under


Vigilant that tree, which stood tall,


sheltered, protected and hugged me.


I ran quickly, and it was no stride,


To my home where, that wisest angel,


my mother, waited for me, aside.


I care not, wish not,


afar, any other dreamland or a shrine,


for there is someone who, through time,


cared for me, cherished,


and loved me her entire lifetime.

Passion

The ambrosia of passion,

When it goes down your throat,

It turns all facades,

Into pleasurable hopes.

In that mist of pleasure,

When you twist and shine,

Yet you don’t reveal through

The love you’ve hidden behind.

I look through her,

Titillated to the core

Whether I’ll end up in her arms,

Or at the foot of her door.

On both accounts, I won’t give up still,

To love and spread bliss,

Will be my life and my thrill.

My hopes and my smile,

Might reveal it all

To kiss her hand, or to bend on my knee

If I have that gall?

To kiss her goodbye,

I hope I never do,

To wake up to that sunshine,

In that beautiful dawn I hope,

I’ll always end to.

But I know not what,

She has hidden inside,

A ‘yes’ or a ‘no’

I cannot decide.

I wish to see her smile,

Waking up in that morning glow,

And I hope that cloud of doubt,

Let’s the rays of my wishes through

Thoughts....

A lonely traveller on the silent sea,
Travels in hope to be free,
From the wretched woes of his mirthless life,
No affairs of wisdom or love ever,
Came across in face or disguise.

He sails aloft a merry boat,
Yet alone, in search of that place,
Where there is that love that chokes his throat.
In the moonlight, aghast,
He reached a land, on black sand it dwelled,
Where stood a damsel, a shrouded figure,
Closer looked the eye, beautiful as hell.
She casts a glance so tender and sublime,
That turned him besotted, all through time.
Her devilish charms worked magic throughout,
That he forgot about his strife,
Of what he was made, what he was about.
He cured himself of that terrible disease,
World calls it loneliness and solitude,
By just hearing her voice, he did it with ease.

By time again coursing, he was smitten to the core,
He forgot the mark, of that curse he wore.
Sand shifted within his feet,
Departing was the beach, the moon and so was she.
She went afar with a crooked smile,
Taking the land with all its glory,
With closed eyes, to the sky he asked
Was it truly love, or was it her guile?
He opens his eyes and find himself again,
In those lonely quarters, those same faces,
Same thoughts and the same pain.
His eyes glistens, heart skips a beat,
On the thought of her,
If her he could again see.
Were those moments a reality of his mind?
Or were those times a dream divine?

Thoughts...

A lonely traveller on the silent sea,


Travels in hope to be free,


From the wretched woes of his mirthless life,


No affairs of wisdom or love ever,


Came across in face or disguise.





He sails aloft a merry boat,


Yet alone, in search of that place,


Where there is that love that chokes his throat.


In the moonlight, aghast,


He reached a land, on black sand it dwelled,


Where stood a damsel, a shrouded figure,


Closer looked the eye, beautiful as hell.


She casts a glance so tender and sublime,


That turned him besotted, all through time.


Her devilish charms worked magic throughout,


That he forgot about his strife,


Of what he was made, what he was about.


He cured himself of that terrible disease,


World calls it loneliness and solitude,


By just hearing her voice, he did it with ease.





By time again coursing, he was smitten to the core,


He forgot the mark, of that curse he wore.


Sand shifted within his feet,


Departing was the beach, the moon and so was she.


She went afar with a crooked smile,


Taking the land with all its glory,


With closed eyes, to the sky he asked


Was it truly love, or was it her guile?


He opens his eyes and find himself again,


In those lonely quarters, those same faces,


Same thoughts and the same pain.


His eyes glistens, heart skips a beat,


On the thought of her,


If her he could again see.


Were those moments a reality of his mind?


Or were those times a dream divine?