LOVE IS WITHIN YOU- AISHANI BHATTACHARYA

"Tell me darling why do you love me so?"

"The answer to that I do not know."

"Why is it that you care for a soul like me?"

"Maybe I just love to dwell in your darkness"

said she.

"l am the Devil, you know that right?"

"Well why then do I see in you, a blinding ray of

light?"

"l am just a fallen angel without a functioning

head."

"How can you then see my love, true and pure

bred?"

"l can't love, you know, demons have not a

soul."

"I'll share mine with you then if it'll make you

feel

"l am just a wingless fool who knows not how

to fly."

"Then I’ll lend you mine and together we'll reach

the sky."

"I'm not a pretty boy with a radiant halo above”

"But halos don't draw me in, it's your shadow I

love."

"What if I go insane and slowly leave your

side?

'I'd chase after you even in the cold midnight."

'l never had anybody beside, I am used to being

alone."

"Some things change over time, your fate

wasn't written in stone."

"Well then who writes my fate? asked he,

"Love it's you, you manipulate your own

destiny!

"Why then, join me as we count the stars till

dawn."

"l definitely will, but is it what you truly want?"

"For eons have I yearned for someone to be

mine!'

"Well then let me say, Isn't the moon lovely

tonight."

A Celestial Coral- Shagufta Siddiqa

In the vanity of wishes you are the finest piece of art.

Breaking into my house of forgotten shadows, you accepted the broken heart.

In the vast sanity of Marine Drive, you are the mark of the sea,

In the long drive of Mysuru, you are a date over a cup of tea.

In a dizzy day of a tizzy mind, you are the vicious tranquilizer,

And again, in the stormy woods you are the lost fragrance of the breezy air.

In a heart of junk desires, you are my part of self-diligence;

Delving into the blue ocean, you are the wave of magnificence.

Despite the vehemence against the fleeting moments, you’ve become a lifetime,

It is that time of the year, a soul chooses to vanish every other time.

In my wild imagination if you watch me there to fly high;

In the world of our own, you are my celestial coral of 3rd July!

Its gonna be okay!!…- Chhavi Sharma

I was sitting on the dining table with a tie and a school bag

And you were feeding me with your own hands

and cribbing, how picky I am with food

Those were the days when I used to tell you,

how teacher praised me,

How Manu took my cartoon eraser and didn’t give it back,

How much I hate that bully boy in school,

How those 10H girls made fun of me and said that I am ugly

And you would put my head in your lap

And say, I was the best thing that has ever happened to you

N it’s gonna be okay!!

But today, I live with just these four walls,

And no one to feed me when I come home,

No one to tell how shitty my day has been,

How boss made re-do that assignment I've been working for months,

How sleep has left me midway

No one's here to crib about how skinny I am, how picky I still am when it comes to food,

Can u ask the Almighty to come for just one day,

So that I can tell you how comforting that hug was

How peaceful your lap was ,

I wanna hug you to sleep again

And say Maa, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me……

And in return, u would say, whatever it is it’s gonna be okay……

The Old Veteran on Bed Number Nine- Aniket Ranjan

I have seen enough wars for a lifetime, son,

said the old veteran on bed number nine.

I can still hear the grumbling of tanks and the thumping of guns

as orders for more bloodshed spread throughout the frontline.

I looked upon the crimson horizon, embracing the canvas beneath.

What had we become, children of Ares!

Amidst the cries of pain and the dance of death

came victory, but at what cost, the old veteran said.

Young and naive: I was back then,

ready to give my life for The Motherland.

I look back and wonder about the dead and the wounded ones.

On that day, humanity lost, and we won.

O bearers of the future, mark my word.

They say the pen is mightier than the sword, so use the pen and not the sword. Peace and understanding will take you where war cannot.

Let diplomacy and compromise become the pillars of the new world.

War is a necessary evil for those watching it from afar.

For those on the frontline, it leaves an everlasting scar.

As I said, I have seen enough wars for a lifetime.

So I wish you see none, said the old veteran on bed number nine.

Endless Summer- Rekha Balachandran

It was that time of year again

where spring ended and summer began.

The purple flowers were in full bloom

symbolizing the purest form of love.

Our memories of the last summer

filled with joy and innocent smiles.

Long-lasting kisses by the sunset

and walks on the shimmering sands.

Those beautiful moments and

the midnight adventures.

When you and I walked under

the full moon night, holding hands.

Wish I could have slowed down time

for more chance to fall in love.

It was meant to last forever

because you were my endless summer.

Compromise - Naveena Kadali

The hate you give,

Stir oceans in heart.

A wide sky blue,

Yet a vast land dark;

In the midst of blossoms,

Are weeds of poison;

In a day of colors,

Which one should I put on?

The bright fluorescent ,

Or the grey melange charcoal,

Sight in hands,

Held towards ground.

Justice is far lost,

Yet survival compromised ,

Long gone sails,

I really don't care,

Wherever you voyage,

Truly not my trade.

A little more - Shrutika Shetty

A little more of your valuable time here, then none of the passed minutes will stop being exhausting.

A little more of your unwavering faith, then all the troubles will be chapters finally meeting ends.

A little more of your empathetic mind then most of the perspectives won't be difficult to comprehend.

A little more of your undying devotion then certain miracles will seem like divine's magic spell, beyond your understanding.

A little more presence of your earthly life, then all of it will be turned into dust and everything else will fall away.

STROKES OF SOLACE - DEVI RAHUL

In hues of colors, I find solace divine,

Where brush strokes weave the tapestry of time.

When words fall short, emotions run deep,

My pain finds solace, awakened from sleep.

With every stroke, a story is born,

On canvas, my heart's secrets are adorned.

Each pigment dances, whispering my pain,

A language unspoken, yet not in vain.

The canvas becomes a mirror of my soul,

A sanctuary where my scars find console. In every stroke, a tear finds its release,

A silent catharsis, a moment of peace.

When words fail to capture the depths within,

My brush becomes the vessel, the unspoken hymn.

Each stroke paints the battles, the victories won,

Emotions unchained, in colors, they run.

The vibrant hues echo the joys and the strife,

In swirls and strokes, the symphony of life.

The pain transformed into strokes of grace,

A masterpiece born, an emotional embrace.

Each stroke tells a tale, untold and true, The canvas a witness, an eternal debut. Through paint and brush, my heart finds its voice,

An eloquent language, a healing choice.

So I paint away the sorrow, stroke by stroke,

In every color, a part of me, bespoke.

For when words falter, my canvas knows, How to speak my story, where healing grows.

The Fragrance of Withered Roses- Ritika Chowdhary

I always thought

That those who don't love passionately,

Do not actually love.

In young happy days of life,

I exchanged my heart for a red rose and

A man whose infectious blushing smile

Coerced me to fall for him.

I kept that rose in my diary

And returned home.

I saw a man sitting with his family and mine.

In between laughter and smiles,

I stood with a not at all happy face

For my fate had been sealed

With a man I do not love.

The day came

When my cousins bejeweled me

And my dad said,

"I have seen the two most beautiful brides in the world,

One whose hand was given in my hand and other,

Whose hand I'll be giving in someone's hand."

A night

Where all the desires died

And death itself became a desire.

The wedding fire

Burnt like the fire that'll

Be set on my pyre.

With tears wept for separation from all the loved ones,

I left with strangers

Whom I'll call family.

I was welcomed with open doors,

Not open arms.

I thought,

Is it necessary to marry the man you love

Or love the man you are married to?

Well, I did neither.

I was petrified

When he came closer,

Closer than I wanted him to

And then went back,

" I find consent in your words

But I don't see comfort on your face.

Your consent seems

To be bereft of your comfort..."

His eyes seemed to be filled with

The disappointment he thought I gifted him.

Years passed,

I opened my diary

And found a withered rose.

I decided to give up

On my cantankerous in laws and a man who doesn't even look at me.

The roses were bathing in the rain

And I was about to make one last fall

To become a part of the stars.

From the gloomy grey sky,

I saw hopeful rays of sunshine

When I saw my beloved one

On the balcony

Of the house in front of ours.

My wet eyes asked him

"Where you were for so long?"

And his sighing eyes replied,

"You don't know how much

I've been longing for you..."

After years of separation,

We formed a relationship of secret meetings.

How beautiful those nameless relationships are, whose name one utters quite frequently.

I reopened my diary

Where I kept that withered rose

And his memories.

I could smell a sweet toxic fragrance

From that rose,

The fragrance of love.

Love that bloomed

And dried up.

But who knew

That everything that tastes sweet isn't honey,

It can be poison as well

And with every sip I became addicted

To that sweet poison.

This relationship was platonic

Until one monsoon evening,

When he came drenched in a blue shirt

And left with two buttons missing from his shirt.

One evening,

When our bodies were fuming

In the flames of passion,

Passion which mixed into the air

We inhaled and felt

Like the fragrance of Turkish itar

And lips that tasted

Like Belgian chocolate.

For the first time,

I felt I was making love

To someone I love.

He sent a letter and a rose.

He wrote,

"When I saw you after years,

You looked like the torn pages of my favourite story...

At a distance,

Those eyes spoke in

The language of silence

Like two breathing statues

Expressing love to one another.

How badly I wish

My shoulder and your head could make

An inseparable pair.

That evening was the best

I had ever spent in life.

The naughtiness in your smile said

"If making love is a crime,

Leave some evidence on my body."

And that mole on your face

Is a beautiful blemish on

A white surface.

I've been counting many..."

The letter was for me

But read by someone else,

My husband.

He left me with two choices,

To leave either of them and stay with another.

I thought I found freedom

And a chance to return.

When I went back to my lover's house,

I found he had gone.

He left with hefty bags

And a heavy heart.

I thought it was an unsaid goodbye

But he left a letter,

"Love is not a crime

But loving a married woman is...

I can't bear the guilt

Of the beautiful sin

I have committed..."

After days of heartbreak,

My husband smilingly glanced at me,

Giving our marriage another chance.

I wondered how much courage

He had to forgive me.

He always tried to cajole me

But it was my ignorance

That forced him to stay at a distance.

I wouldn't say I was in love with the wrong person,

But I probably never fell in love with the right person.

One question still crosses my mind,

Who am I-

A passionate lover

Or an unfaithful wife?

Introspect- Vedika Gupta

Like in a field of roses,

The scent filling up your lungs,

Hair flowing in the breeze,

The sense of freedom that you feel.

The over flooding happiness,

Not being held back in the darkness,

Unaffected by the past,

Just letting go and finally embracing yourself,

It feels wonderful at last.

The grass tickles you,

As you run through the field,

The breeze soothes you,

As it carries your laughter.

It sounds different, indeed,

But it's not for anyone else to please.

Past mistakes don't affect you,

You rarely think about them any more.

The future excites you,

As you can't wait to see what it holds.

A never wavering smile spreads across your face,

One which is genuine and not so seldom now.

The glow on your countenance,

The blush on your cheeks,

The bliss in your eyes,

The intoxicating joy that you feel,

When you realise that you didn't lose,

You're regaining your confidence,

And it's visible to all that despite everything,

You're growing into someone new,

But that's a person you've learned to love.

Once you've evolved,

And learned from your mistakes,

You come out stronger than before.

You've seen the bad and have dealt with it.

You've seen the worst and have come out of it.

You've become someone else,

And you're proud of it.

In all,

You've become You.

Legacies - Munaza Naseer

Me and my sister

Our parts make a jigsaw

She's more like my father

While I look for something common

And see only a shared name

But we both have business in our blood

There's parts, there's fractions

Of a legacy built through two generations

She has his way with people

She has his work ethic

I have his ideas, his precision

Between the two of us we carry him

We carry his warmth just like

we carry his frost

She gets this selfless part from him

that I could never be

I just hope it serves her better

Like him she loves too much

Like with him it doesn't end well

I have my father's mood

Changing hues like flipping through

A child's playbook

I have his habit of detachment

His need for order.

Like him I'm blind to everything but the flaws

My sister blind to everything but the light

We're always extremes and never midway

We both share his anxious mind

His racing heart

We're both hot rage in our own ways

We're both impulsive decisions

And broken relations

There's not much you can do about legacies

They show up in desperate ways

They have a need for belonging

A thirst for holding on

And the only way you find balance is

Being the glue and putting together the jigsaw

The only way you live is

Hoping, against reason, the picture

doesn't turn out ugly

The Astronaut- Shambhavi Maheshwari

The moon is my true love.

My friends tell me they worship a god,

but my goddess is speckled with craters,

her existence fleeting,

her femininity ethereal,

and she teaches me

that the only constant in life is change.

I wonder if the waves follow

her darkness or her brightness,

throbbing up and down

like a heartbeat struggling to survive

Or a flower simply blooming

towards the warmth.

She lifts the waters with a little touch.

I’m not sure if I should

follow her light or darkness.

I find peace in the night,

but it’s her face that leads me home.

I believe it is both of them,

her delicate brightness against

the starless night that enthrals me.

They make me feel

as though my existence depends

on her soul and that

my heart is beating towards her.

The Era- Tabinda Naiyer

This era shackled into lies and forgery

seized into the whims and fancies of the aristocracy.

The youth meanders obeying the diabolical whispers.

What an age of society, the learned look and ponder?

This era of the people who bleat and bray

masters of men, they watch the play.

The eyes bear testimony yet the brain defies,

the tepid heart slumbers left high and dry.

What an age of the nation, the learned cry.

This era where the righteous lie in graves

and the guilty are saved

where mothers are seen no more

cradling an offspring is just a sore!

while the twos are seen in fours.

What an age of the humanity, the learned mourns.

Look here, look there

Every screen you swipe there is a blabbering ‘guru’,

flock of ignorant is what you will see through.

Everyone is an author and anyone can be a poet

Ink and pages are affordable, you know it.

Knowledge is priceless and wisdom is not cheap,

‘Books of Learned Men’ lay in dustheap.

This dwelling has brought a disaster why no seismograph could detect?

not a war of nature but a war of intellect.

What an age of all the ages that came and passed by

accursed is the one where our lives lie.

The seeds are sown as the sapling has peeped out,

all they wait is the ‘forbidden fruit’ to be reaped out.

What an age of the mankind, what a day

the catastrophic ‘fruit’ will bring their dismay.

The learned men grieve as they weep

prepared to depart for their celestial sleep.

To what has come

Must not leave yet

For a utopia is yet to create.

The phase - Jijnyasa Routray

Who cared about bills

we were too busy watching cartoons.

Who cared about grades

we were too busy zoning out.

Look how times have changed

I miss the peaceful sleep,

head's too heavy carrying

the stress.

Not caring about what people said

to a people pleasure,

just trying to fit in the crowd.

Crying on the slightest pain

to hiding deep injuries'

'No one should see the other side.'

Not being judged for anything

to thinking before a move

those care free days were

something we forgot to cherish.

Nothing can change'

but I wish to dream

of childhood once before

I die.

Counting my days to end,

I opened the album

the nostalgia strikes hard

I fell in love with

the kid that had died

inside me a long time ago.

I closed my eyes thinking

the child in me needs

a rebirth.

Moon and Stars- Amisha Nath

The darkness started to take over the orange sky as the sun set.

The stars start to appear one by one, just like glitter.

The sky looked like a dark palette dusted with silver fairy dust.

Oh look, here comes the moon to steal the beauty of the stars.

Look at him trying to be innocent as he takes everybody's attention.

The stars look at him with anger as they shimmer.

Poor little glitters make the moon shiver.

I think they are having a conversation.

I wonder what they talk about. Maybe about the sun?

"Hey moon, look at the girl admiring us," said one of the stars.

"Her eyes shine so much as she looks at us," the moon replied with a chuckle.

"She calls us beautiful; isn't she precious?" Another star said

"I hope she knows how pretty she herself is," said the moon, spreading his moonlight.

I looked at them as the gentle moonlight touched my skin.

"Look at you, how gorgeous you make the earth look", I said to them, hoping they heard me.

The stars chuckle at my silliness, and the moon then speaks, "I wanted to make you shine, my love, but here you are praising me."

Unaware of his words, I just smile at him.

Oh, how I want to be next to him, I thought to myself, closing my eyes.

Unaware that the moon hugged me that night.

Jab guzarte hain hum un nazaron se- Aabha Mishra

Jab guzarte hain hum un nazaron se jahan,

Hum tum guzaarte they waqt kabhi

Ruk jaati hain nigaahein wahi,

Tham jaate hain kadam wahi,

Shuru hota hain yaadon ka silsila,

Le jata hain humein fir se wahan

Jahan miley they humaare dil kabhi

Raaho mein sunaayee deti hain,

Ab bhi,Tumhare kadmo ki aahat

Hawa mein lehraati hain

Wahi roohani khushbu teri

Is zindagi mein ,ab bhi

Mehsoos hoti hain teri kami

Jab guzarte hain hum

Un nazaaron se jahan

Hum tum guzaarte they

Waqt kabhi

असल जिंदगी - Priya Kumari

अपने बदलते हैं

सपने कुचलते हैं,

बेईमान इस दुनियां में

रोज नए रिश्ते बिखरते हैं,

हर वक्त टूटा करते हैं

हर मोड़ पर सहमा करते हैं,

यही है असल जिंदगी

जहां हर रोज जिस्म जलते हैं

चुभन सी हैं यादें

घुटन सी हैं बाते,

बेखौफ होकर

हर रोज खौफ से उलझते हैं,

कदर नही जज्बातों की यहां

ये बाते जो सिर्फ कीमत की करते हैं

दहाड़ सी गूंजा करती हैं

ये गलियां नशे में डूबी रहती हैं,

खुद को शरीफ कहती हैं ये हवाएं

जो हर रोज बहका करती हैं

शोर में यहां हर शख्स रमा हैं

ना जाने कितने दिन ये खामोशी से ढला हैं।

Broken Nerves -Saumya Tripathi

Watching through the window,

I was staring at the night.

Lying on my bed,

without blinking my eyes.

Too much to say, too much to handle

though silence was my only choice.

Tears keep flowing,

without making any noise.

I was chained by my own thoughts,

slowly falling apart.

Soul filled with suffocation,

was holding an aching heart.

Too frozen to feel,

yet a fire was burning inside.

Fighting with my demons,

I was numb all night.

I was helpless, I had no choice.

Breathing in the mess,

I was waiting for the sun to rise.

Phase of life- Zikra Rahman

Holding grudges deep within,

strengthen my shield, ready to begin.

Clutching onto life's firm grasp,

In weakness or strength, i stand as a warrior, resolute and steadfast.

On the vast mountain, poised to descend, challenges await, my grief and past to contend.

Uncertain if my strength will endure,

yet my mind urges forward,my heart rhythm pure.

Facing obstacles with unwavering might, conquering the path that appeared daunting, now in sight.

Life, a game with choices to make.

Play and lose, or surrender, a high stake.

Yet I gather myself, pressing ahead.

Embracing peace, finding solace in bed.

Harmony restored, tensions release

In this newfound calm, all strife finds its cease.

Daughter Of India- ANUPAMA KT

Raped, bleeding, left to die

I lay on the busy street

My soul in between heaven and earth

Paralysed from head to feet.

I saw a kind passerby

I groaned for help slowly

On seeing my plight he took a flight

I was a police case you see.

Then more and more onlookers came

Pitying me my plight

And reasons arose as to why I was raped

Perhaps I'd dressed not right.

Then finally a Samaritan came

Enquiring my whereabouts to assist

He lifted my head and gave me a sip

I was too exhausted to resist.

My body ached in million ways

But now I was all numb

The blood drained out from myriad

paths

A living corpse I'd become.

He gathered some more people

Who placed me in a van, distraught

Within me, I somehow knew

My life on earth was short.

I told my soul to leave not yet

My mission till dispense

Ere they came the policemen

For statement and evidence.

Barely responsive, holding on

I told them how they looked

The police sketched and then began

A search to get them booked.

The news now spread like wildfire

My brethren shaken to core

They banded in mutual outrage

Showing solidarity galore.

The perpetrators promptly nabbed

I made my dying request

That justice be on fast track mode

To judge them before inquest.

All violence on the vulnerable class

Must once and for all end

The judges passed the strictest law

'THE CULPRITS TO THE MOB SEND'.