Dating a married man could be a love-scheme; not Love.
I often try to find the reason that brings a married man and woman together. Certainly not under the same roof. I know they enjoy texting, talking, meeting or going on long drives far from the hustle-bustle of the city and come back home pretending they worked all day.
The man and woman both convince themselves with a myriad of explanations for making this choice. An Adrenaline rush and an optimum secretion of the Estrogen hormone revitalizes them.
Let me write about this from a woman’s viewpoint to ease the…
When you walk away
praise yourself for carrying
one ounce of courage
you piled up essentially
to become a unique you.
I often ask myself If I am treating my soul with compassion and kindness or not? Do I love myself; when I love someone else? I am a giver. Bypassing all the symbiotic association; I choose a parasitic association.
But I survive, learn my lessons and move on swiftly.
When an incident or person disheartens me; I overthink. Knowing all explanations are all within me, I search it in someone else’s voice. Forty-two autumn transformed me into a resilient…
In search of my soulmate
खोजती हूँ तेरा अक्स
कभी लफ्ज़ो में
तो कभी दरवेशियों में
तू भी उन की मानिंद
किसी से छुपा बैठा है। (I look for your shadow in words and saints;you too hide like they do).
As I listen to the
soulful verses of “Ghazal “
I walk towards him
knowing his address is not known.
A shadow exists in the shayrana verses
to hustle my heart
into an ecstatic world of love and desires.
I spend the entire day, playing the same gazal
till I can scribble a name.
I walk hand in hand with an umbra in the lush green wilderness;
where he narrates his incomplete poems.
Oh! I wonder!
Does he find a similar reflection in
Shayari and ghazals?
My mind plays the same ghazal
while he completes his, incomplete poetic verses.
Sometimes we need closure. A 360 degree turn from the existing situation or a person that no longer allure us. It doesn’t happen because we give less to make it work or we expect emeralds and diamonds; it occurs when someone refuses to watch the moon and stars with us, on one particular night. One Denial-is the beginning of closure. The closure is the beginning of a new expedition.
Poised exit aver
hushed words and few denials-
call for the closure.
Thanks, Brett Christensen for giving a prompt to write a haiku or tanka using the prompt word “graceful” (or a derivative).
I met some kind, generous and loving souls who didn’t give up on their wish and desire of finding a soulmate. The pain and suffering from the past relationship could not dishearten them. Although they looked terrified of losing balance and opening up the heart, they didn’t say no to the next one.
My friend, Meeta mentioned that profound and harmonious connection might be a theoretical aspect for those who believe in the supremacy of peace and contentment. Romance,deep-attachment is challenging and messy.
She adds, love challenges, trigger insecurities and highlight all the gloomy corners of our soul. When we…
My attitude. My learnings. No matter how hard it is, I never give up on my dreams and aspirations. Maybe, I slow down, pause or get frightened for some time, but I never stop believing in my capacity to design another map for my life when challenges overshadow. Whenever I feel life is being unfair to me( in the personal and professional domain), I gather all the available resources to find a solution. I don’t play the blame game. I live my strategies not simply plan them.
Past few years of my life have turned me into someone who disconnects from the outer world and enjoys watching an old movie or reading poetries. There, I get the space to think and rephrase the content in my language or overthink. It’s mental fatigue.But, that’s okay for someone who chooses to be brutally honest, and a self-proclaimed writer as well. Anxiety is not new to me but monitoring it under the surveillance of my wisdom is a gargantuan job.
I have discovered some ways to turn my anxious day into -I can deal with it moment.
On a lazy…
3 AM thoughts.
Thunder, lightning and wakefulness at 3 AM.
I do nothing but Imagine,
Imagine if you and I could be us.
Curled up in the warmth of love,
Tasting tears, immersing in a passionate surf.
I Imagine you proclaiming the whiteness in me;
hidden under the dark layers of grief.
I Imagine the two of us, scribbling each other’s name on our naked souls.
I see the downpour washing away the misery and your fingers caressing the tangled tuft of hair.
Thundering continues so does the lightning; and my imagination.
Image:- My Mobile-camera.
Overthinker, Writer, Bohemian, Musiclover. Exploring unknown landscapes of life.