Poems & Short Stories

“ We never know how high we are Till we are called to rise; And then, if we true to plan, Our statures touch the skies .” Emily Dickinson, a famous poet of all times, have clearly mentioned in her above poem ‘Aspirations’ that one never knows their true worth and value until an unexpected event hits one like a sucker punch. In the first stanza, she states that we all have a power to rise and shine in our chosen fields, be it women or men, till the situation calls for our true power. The true will shines and the spark reaches to the shadowy paths. In the third line, she hits the nail that even we know our power and talent, we should try and plan and work assiduously in our path in order to achieve our goals and sustain the achievement. So knowing is one thing and planning and executing is the key thing that will provide us fruits. As our aspirations envelope us, our worth glitters like a gold and our skills come to light. So here is a story of Sakshi. A girl who rose...

The grey sky pondered with the thought if love can come and stay in its life forever. That day rain had come bringing in the dampness and washed away the tears that the sky was shedding. The light emerged from nowhere that gave the stars a tough competition. The light too brought in the much needed joy to the sadness filled sky. Only the soft showers were there to cool off the heat on the earth. The green leaves formed a thick blanket of hope to the sky as it danced in mirth. The vibrant flowers danced in meadows. The night fell on the silhouetted trees which looked as black as ink. The moonlight weaved a silver glaze. The sky stood in voiceless wonder and gaze as it witnessed the beauty that nature offered to her. With the night light, the hills and woodlands reflected new hues. The nature unveiled the promise of love and sky’s sullen mood was lit with merriment. There were no thunderstorms. No firecrackers. Only the soft and verdant landscapes which filled the sky’s heart with love...

Chronicles of my  sweetsoul  baby   "  Two Pink Lines - A  Joy Drawn Parallel "    The fiery green trees saluted me with its usual head shake, the blue radiant sky embraced me with a warm hug, the birds that chirped all along had came in and stood at my window sill. Every single thing  becko ned  the arrival of you.    You are the stream of light that surfaced at my world of shadow   You are the ray of hope that stood at the door of gloom   As I write, I get all happy and joyous thinking about the day I found you. The insides took a plunge and shifted to adjust to the new arrival. A tiny little butterfly lurked inside me. My each and every part danced with merriment. I couldn’t wait to spread the joy to the people I know. I threw my arms and whispered a loud prayer to the gods and  goddesses  I pray. The eyes became warm with the small dew drops that came in the form of tears and ...

In a chasm where the sullen tide never stopped, there came a bridge builder who  persistently worked and came forward to build a bridge to pave a way for the future  tres passers . He already crossed that way but leaving all his duties in hand, stood there to help others. A good  Samaritan   isn't  it? This is the famous poem written by Will Allen  Droomgoole  which earned significant and rave reviews in the era where poetic literature was the food and soul of writers and poets. It sends out a message to be generous and helpful towards others.    If one wans to illustrate the above mentioned popular poem, what is better to choose than the flood affected India's fourth largest metro, Chennai. The culturally inclined city which is known for the historical locations, holy shrines and ports was severely affected by the heavy downpours. A simple idiom ' Raining cats and dogs ' cannot define its intensity. There was lot of damage for the r...

The wintry morning smelled of new blossoms. The air grew moist but touched the skin gently. The blue radiant sky with  thousands  of birds all over went on to make a picture so perfect that one could paint a memory worth millions of years. Such was that day when that very moment left  us with new whiff of air. A new thought, a new idea, a new leaf , a new cream that surrounds the milk, and all things were new.  The sunlight beamed and gleamed and the shadow of divine light entered the drawing room filtering the shades that were drawn. The light was new. I heard that rains were lashing the city of Chennai and   I could hear the sounds of water lapping in Mumbai. The sound of rain was new. The birds in front of my balcony huddled and rested in the thick nest that they made yesterday. They were all of four and together their happiness saw no bounds. The nest was new. The sprawling green lawns enveloped  the vibrant flowers. The hues of green were new....

“The roses and lilacs bloomed So were her dreams and aspirations But the storm came, without warning And with that came her ending” We all have aspirations and dreams that we want to build and nurture. What if our dreams were shattered? Not by our own actions but by the external factors. The dreams that grew with us, the wishful thoughts that swirled around us each moment and the happiness that has been derived out of it. How can one do this to my friend and Junior? How can one be inhuman towards the feelings of others? These were my first reaction when I read what happened to my 24 year old friend and Junior in my Alma matter. I couldn’t sleep that day. I tossed and turned and could not believe in the story that glared on the walls of Facebook. I was finding lies in the whole matter of truth as I know that girl personally. “I wanted to do Ph.D.”, “I love pets, and I find my soul in their happiness. Look at these pictures. These were taken in my place which houses two d...

Her eyes pierced me like a wooden knife. It did not leave me injured but took my breath away in a minute the same way I had done with her in her teenage years. It scared me, I could not take it anymore. The early years flashed in front of my curious eyes. It was all past but something was still waiting to get finished, I thought. I had hurt her every time she came close to me. I ignored her. The ignorance which killed her in the past was my failure in the present. I spoke no word of hurt but my silence infuriated her to a larger extent. Her graceful eyes still searched something. That something which she expected out of me. The slender and lithe figure made her look elegant and that touch of beauty did not diminish in this age too. She kept her eyes transfixed on me. As if she asked me. She questioned me. My silence. I couldn't meet her gaze and averted my gaze. But truth appeared like a rock in the sea of betrayal. It did not move but stood as a testimony to my doings. I c...