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  • anweshaa 82w

    Outside

    I went out today. The skies are cleared. Objects seem nearer. The sleeping wind wakes.

    A lamb hopped near his mother.
    He jumped before too,
    I never noticed.

    I could go miles and miles with the wind on striking my face.

    Cows scattered over the fields
    Grazing.
    Like summers in
    Scottish fields.
    Fresh and green.

    White reedy flower on the sides bending their will to the winds.

    Nimbus changing to wispy Cirrus Above.
    Below, the toad disturbs the algae filled pond.

    Bamboo groves shoot to reach the sky.
    Emerald green.

    The krishnachura (Flame of the forest) sheds its vermilion burden that it held since spring and colours the road with its petals.
    Some wilted, some fresh.
    But all dead I suppose, as they fell from the tree.

    A man stumbles upon a stone
    He stoops a little, then walks still.

    Two white butterflies frolicked on the branches.
    Then on the swamp's reeds nearby.
    Then disappeared frolicking.

    The backdrop of this Nature's domain resembles a painting. A surreal one. Subtle hues with slight pastel tint that merges and blends with a trace of desolation.

    The Hargilla stands with pride. His swift beak cuts through water and finds a fish.
    Its his territory now as no humans are outside.

    The green hills are covered in melancholy stillness. From the distace can be seen like a child drawn sketch.

    Krishnachura in amiable silence meditates on
    Radhachura.

    Water plants cover, turn blue waterbody purple.

    Little saplings of rice innocent green
    Far away in the field sits an old man
    With elbows resting on his knees.
    A borrowed farmer perhaps
    Waiting and seeing things turn so quick
    The NH turned like a village path
    Without secondly vehicle whizzes.
    And makes a scenery for a poet to write.

    The wind has stopped caressing my hair now
    Maybe it's the silence before the storm.

    A old stout ramshackled gate.
    Rusted now from the continuous rain
    Of these days.
    Behind it lies a path untrodden for days
    Maybe months.
    Bearing all the velvet green grass
    At the sides of a solitary footway.
    Dew from last night's rain covers the grass.

    The summer sun goes hazy now
    as the dusk calls out to night.

    Amidst the rustic enchantment
    There lies a withered tree
    With branches upright
    And spread out like a witch's hair.
    Bewitching the tranquility
    With its wicked calls
    Made to the black night.
    ©anweshaa

  • anweshaa 87w

    Lost

    Where are all my beautiful feelings lost?


    I sit
    Writhing my heart
    like a wet cloth
    Finding the last drop
    of beauty inside me
    Yet nothing comes out
    Nothing to satiate
    my yearning for art.
    If fortune favours and
    Any damp grace remains
    It deceives my act of trying
    And evaporates
    in the heat of indifference.
    Laughs and mocks and associates
    with the atmosphere, above me,
    making me unable to touch it.
    Soars for some time
    Teasing me then
    Vanishes,
    Never to be found again.


    ©anweshaa

  • anweshaa 89w

    A song promised
    But left unsung.








    ©anweshaa

  • anweshaa 89w

    Somewhere I heard the horse stands as a symbol for passion, power.

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    The Dark Horse

    Equestrian me
    Unknown of the fire inside.
    Timid heart cried until
    Passion, my dark Horse
    Ran wild.
    Mane uncontrollable as he
    Rose and neighed.
    Hoofs and his pace untamable
    even with the rein.
    He took me on his back
    Conquered my desolate hour.

    On a silent night,
    The full moon rose
    To give me light.
    I rode and rode to a far off land
    Until fear and fret were
    nowhere to be seen.

    Crossing a river, crossing a forest
    My heartbeat was the only sound
    And mind knew no boundaries.
    The winds talked of freedom
    Like my spirit.

    No one will find me again.

    ©anweshaa

  • anweshaa 90w

    String Lights

    Everyday
    In my life's realism
    You were real.
    Detailed memories.
    So was my love,
    Advancing Sharp and Stoic.

    String lights, in our recluse space
    Dangled like hope
    Over your elegic smile.
    I thought I knew the pain
    Your heart carried.
    We lay down on the floor.
    Yes, we were soon to leave
    And grieve the absences.
    The reality was soon to warp.
    The fleeting beauty was soon to be past.

    Now, real is different
    Shapeless for me.
    Concrete for you.
    I turn the hourglass over and over,
    In the same space
    In the same spot you used to cry
    Under the string lights.
    Time passed.
    Hope- a subtle reminder to keep going
    With the warped image of love I bore.

    You could come. You didn't.
    It was a choice.
    I see the old pictures.
    Love was absent in your eyes.
    I falter to recognise it then.
    My selfish love eclipsed over
    The dislike of our togetherness
    In you.
    ©anweshaa

  • anweshaa 91w

    Biblical.

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    Rope

    I travel in a truck
    With lambs and goats
    On the stony road.
    The night is soon to come
    And the goats bleat
    As pleased as punch.
    The night ends,
    prepares for the day.
    The lambs smiling,
    turn their fleece to the Sun.
    I am alone in this run.

    I travel in a truck
    With lambs and goats.
    The road seems long
    I chose to sing a song.
    My audience
    Animals deaf and dumb
    With a rope around every neck.
    Will you sing alongside me?
    It would pass your time in glee.

    I travel in a truck
    With lambs and goats.
    Now they start to fight
    Over food, space and pride.
    I tried to stop the fight
    And unknot the ropes.
    Outcaste they called me
    And let me down from the truck.
    ©anweshaa

  • anweshaa 91w

    Whatever happened is disturbing

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    Mai to sadhu hu

    Mai to sadhu hu
    Mera na koi rajneetik libas
    Mera na koi ghar vyapar.

    Mai to sadhu hu
    Gerua rang meri pehchan
    Fir kyu kiya mujhe lahu luhan.

    Mai to sadhu hu
    Jatadhari.
    Sansar chor
    Shiv ki aur chala tha.
    Laal na tha mera rang.

    Tera darr mere upar saupa
    Tera darr dikhta hai.
    Teri soch dikhti hai.
    ©anweshaa

  • anweshaa 91w

    Old days of rain, wind and thunderstorms are back. Sudden sparks in the sky and I know the sound is soon to follow. Some say Thor is beats his anvil and the sparks that comes out form the thunders in the sky. The season transforms so does the weather so does Nature. A calm serenity lingers always now. The distant hills are visible. The hills are clear. A layer and the next and the next to it, behind it. A paiting of the modern era can be greener and bluer sometimes. Trees can be counted from far away. The sky seems bluer. The haziness has gone away, never did I know this was the original hue. Some more days this way and renewal could be our new name, this greener Earth our new home.

    When the dusk falls a little more silence creeps in. The cries of a wild wolf is heard far away in the dread silence of the night. He is happy, he can see his Moon more clearer and bright. A brook and its water splashing in the rocks beneath, I sleep with this sound now. No vehicle affects my sleep, no horn disturbs my day dreams. I can see his face in the high sky, draped in copper-pink clouds as if he blushes when I call his name in front of everyone. Your soul seems clearer now, haziness of hatred was swept away by the refreshing cold rain. Heaviness is taken away by the wind that flows through you. I could feel you speaking miles away. I could hear you whispering my name. The winds brought me your confession, how you talked of love and only talk of love these days. You talk of change, the good change.

    When I am out open under the sky the vastness in the darkness yet the million shining stars lights. Like little candles of hope light across the Universe to finish the dark. An attempt in the darkest nights as if saying not to feel lonely because they too are a million miles apart, yet they glow in their own, happy and content in themselves. Millions, and uncounted musing on them over the ages. If one looks closely one can see more clusters of tiny stars surrounding a bright one. How are they formed after thousands of years pass by, from gas to a bright star, stuck and studded in the night sky with pride stoic life. How slowly they transform and yet are silent, not speaking their journey, their story so loud but one minute of work of humanity and the whole world needs to be told. I miss you still, I see our old passed time somewhere lost like the story of the stars. The grandest happenings are always subtle perhaps. We walked under the same stars, day changed to night, night changed to day again but why my love remains constant like the north star? I cannot answer me sometimes, maybe the north star couldn't answer itself too and still waits for an answer to give itself.

    Its raining now. The lower sky is grey burdened with black clouds of rain. It will continue. And I ll sleep to the patting of rain over the world and my windowpane. A love song, you gave me keeps me warm in such new nights. I wish you were here like the old times experiencing the same bliss as I am now.
    ©anweshaa

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    New Nights

  • anweshaa 92w

    When weary feet sing tired soliloquies

    When weary feet sing tired soliloquies
    Of the days burden,
    They no longer walk on greens and lavenders,
    And no longer hands synchronise the chorus in wailing tones.
    You know you aren't a kid no long
    The ways of the world got into you.

    In those troubled ways I found my love.
    Echoed in our fields of love a name so kind.
    Held close like spring adores its first blossom.
    All day all night some heard, some unheard voice inside me went through.
    The stars aligned and breeze passed by
    He fell for me too, I knew.
    All a sham! But why for!
    Formed like a cloud and vanished like it
    Into the thin air and same breeze.

    When I stop by and turn back.
    I see nothing matters anymore.
    Your Hate, your Pride, your Indifference
    Your Cage, your Stride, your Pitilessness
    Cause all I see to my fore is that
    I love you and I will be doing the same.

    Times have passed and melancholy slipped in my blood.
    Why have you come to dangle like hope?
    The world seems fair now
    The place seems to clear up
    As it robbed me of my own Hope
    And wear it with pride in eyes.

    When darkness reside eyes perceive shadows of all forms than they should
    When sorrow presides pain bore itself more than it could.
    Time stands in the same hour you left.
    A boat in the vast ocean,
    No way it could have survived.
    That day
    He lamented on death
    Behind she died.
    ©anweshaa

  • anweshaa 93w

    Rows and columns of sick beds
    Like laid cloud patch in summer skies.
    The dark dormatory,
    Seems like Black Death is back.
    Lingering smell of morphine in the air
    Some scream to die
    Some scream to heal
    Some are dead in the time
    I compose this rhyme.

    The unaffected don't get the
    Wrath of the pandemic.
    Living like they don't feel
    Thousands of dreary dead faces.
    Oh! Yet how they smile?

    Kiths and kins don't mourn the dead
    As it seems fated, such a large calamity.
    "Masks were worn by humanity
    All around always
    Some more to wear for now."
    Remarks Fatality.

    Souls were always apart in this world
    As the days of epidemic pass
    Distance creeps in physically too.
    "The spring is reserved for the wild this time"
    Smiled Mother Earth
    While the sounds of humans will be ceased outside.
    A lesson learned this spring
    Some can be restrained
    Where as Nature can't hide.
    Death is always a reminder of
    The material world.

    For now,
    Mother Earth calls the
    Thousand oak coffins
    To rest in her arms.
    ©anweshaa