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Tuesday, April 30, 2024

I Will Still Write

When the earth crumbles
Or the skies melt
And the stylus between my fingers 
Can no longer be felt
I will still write 
I will write of my soul 
The ink in my veins
Will drizzle on parched roll

Words of affirmation 
Messages of hope
I will write of stories
That could help you cope

I will write of dreams
And of the glorious sun
I will still write of Life
Even when my words are mute
And heard by none
(I do, I still do) 

When the moon in me
Is in darkness from the sun
I will still write of Love
And of You, my quill will still go on.. 

In moments of hope
And also in despair
In the moments of sapphire night
And in the days of the beaming star
I will write of my wishes
And of destiny and dream
With You as my muse
Tales from the nib
Will continue to stream

Irrelevant and unrelatable
I will commit my thoughts to pen
It is my life blood
I will still write, time and again.

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A little something:

The following lines were almost there in the poem. However, in the last minute, I decided not to include them. What do you think: should they have been included? Comment your thoughts, please. 

When the light from the east is no more bright
And the moon succumbs to a heartbreaking plight
I will spun words of hope and tales of dreams
I will write of You, of Love, and let the stars alight.

When the rays from the east shines no more
And the moon, by death, has been spoken for
My words will sing, of Life's lore
My pen will still speak, of beauty and more.

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Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Sunday, April 28, 2024

Would he?

Had he known
that would be the last time
he would be meeting her,
would he have given her that gift
that is still there
on the top shelf of his book case,
waiting for her?

Had he known 
that would be the last time 
he would be seeing her,
would he have taken
possibly a few seconds more
to dive into her chocolate eyes
and remember the dimples
that appeared everytime she smiled?

Had he known 
that would be the last time 
he would be listening to her voice,
would he have leisurely given in
to the rhythm of his heartbeat
that danced to her euphonious tone?

Had he known 
that would be the last time 
he would be breathing in
the air that had kissed her,
would he have preserved
that essence of hers that smelled like
a meadow of peonies in spring
in a bottle made of the sunshine
that reflected from her ring?

Had he known 
that would be the last time 
he would be feeling the
softness of her touch
accidentally, against the warmth
of her cocoa-filled cup,
would he have treasured that moment
in the silky flowers that bloomed
when she blinked her eyes
and let the evening stars drop?

Had he known
those words she spoke then
would be her last words to him,
would he have listened to them
in a different tone,
or would he have said his words
that he had till that point postponed?

Would his wait now be any different 
if he had not waited for the moment then,
and had he done what he
could and should have done,
not knowing... that would be
probably their last time under the sun?
Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Saturday, April 27, 2024

Not Digital Beings

Between "have"s and "have not"s
Between being there and absent slots
There's a bit more to messages we leave
Than the mere dashes and dots

There's more to the unspelled
Than what has been spelled
A dash of emotions...that's always there
But has been withheld 
A rush of feelings
And a flow of thoughts 
There's an entire cosmos
Between the ones and noughts

That's where art is born
And stories and poems are spun
When the heart skips a beat 
And have dreams in it adorned

For humans are not just beings
With flesh, blood, and bones
A true human is beyond that
Enriched with empathy and consideration 
With a heart, a soul, feelings, and notions
And beyond figures...
With borrowed and perceived digital emotions

Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Friday, April 26, 2024

Views

In the grim heat of an arid parched dune
She is the heart of a sanguine June
Among the chorus voices
That lauded just the moon
She adores the entire cosmos
And the sun has her swoon

In the illusion of the rainbow roses
The verses let the thorns speak
The Peony too has braved winters
But she sings of spring in a voice,
That has never been meek

The words have kept them alive
But they string them in moulds of pain
Disguised in robes of what-they-call-love
They damn them in poems
Time and again

But she loves without bounds
Even though her words are often sans sounds
Love has been Life and Life has been Love
She has cherished them, with words from her trove
With Love, her dreams are pearled
Perhaps she is not from the same world
Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Thursday, April 25, 2024

Never-Ending Pages: ଅସରନ୍ତି ପୃଷ୍ଠା ସବୁ

ଚିରନ୍ତନ ସେ ପ୍ରେମ ପୁସ୍ତକର
ଅସରନ୍ତି ପୃଷ୍ଠା ସବୁ ଓଲଟାଇବା ବେଳେ
ଦୃଷ୍ଟି ରହିଗଲା ସେହି ପୃଷ୍ଠାଟିରେ
ପୃଷ୍ଠାର ନାମ "ଜୀବନ"...
 
ଅସୀମ ବହିର ସିମୀତ ସେ ଜୀବନ ଫର୍ଦ୍ଦରେ
ଅନେକ ଗାଥା ଅନେକ କାହାଣୀ
କିଛି ଇତି ହୁଏ, କିଛି ରହିଯାଏ ସେମିତି
କିନ୍ତୁ ସରେ ସେ ଯାତ୍ରା,
ଫେରେ ସେ ପଥ, ଦେଇ ଲେଉଟାଣି...
 
କିନ୍ତୁ ପ୍ରେମ...
ଅନନ୍ତ ଅସରନ୍ତି ଅଦ୍ଭୁତ ଚିର ଚଇତି
ନା ଅଛି ତା'ର ଆଦି,
ଅନ୍ତ ବା ତା'ର ହେବ କେମିତି!?

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A little something:

They say... Love is a page in the book of Life. But I believe, Life is a page in the book of Love. Even though the pages of Life is limited, this book called "Love" is never-ending, eternal.

It started with the thought: While skimming through the pages of (a book called) "Love", I stumbled upon a page which spelled "Life".

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Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, April 23, 2024

When Rain Comes

On a vivid Friday afternoon 
Of those warm spring days
The condensation drops trickled down
From his coffee cup
As he shifted his gaze 
 
There in the distance
Upon the chest of the cerulean skies
The infant clouds chuckled 
As they ambled and met his eyes
 
His eyes smiled but had a hint of forlorn
They longed for something 
The clouds could have sworn
 
The zephyr whispered
To the clouds with a shy smile
It's the rainbow he wishes to see
Their destiny's taking quite a while
 
The clouds replied
As they took another stride
 
The wait will not be long enough
And certainly will not be short either
Tell him to wait for the rains
And not to let his hope wither
 
For when the rain comes
And drizzles upon the flowers  
The sunshine too shall dance
And dabble her feet in the golden showers
 
Ask him to wait
With that love in his heart
For when the rain comes 
The sunrays too
Shall play their part
 
The word of the clouds
The zephyr did relay
His eyes glimmered
As he smiled at the day
 
For forever with her 
I will wait with adore
Through springs and summers
And through rains across the shore
 
I will wait for the day
With a heart that hums
When the sun shines
And when the rain comes
Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Monday, April 22, 2024

Memory-filled Pages

It was a land of magic
A land of unknown
But more familiar than anything
She had ever seen or known

In gardens of possibilities 
The seas let her sail
Every walk through the flowing pages
Told her about a dreamy tale

Words so soft and eternal 
They weaved in a potent loom
Like between shadow and sun
When the loving Azaleas bloom

The essence of the earthy vanilla
Lighted her imagination in the cozy nooks
Where she delved in the memory-filled pages
Of her treasure chest of books

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A little something:

Azaleas, considered as a birth flower in some regions, signifies happiness, passion, and positivity. While most flowering plants either bloom yearlong or in a particular season, Azaleas bloom and bloom again: in Spring, a part of Summer, and sometimes during Autumns. This aspect of the flowers are motivating and inspiring. In addition, I find it lovely that they too like the morning Sun.

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Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Sunday, April 21, 2024

Ek Baar Aur

वह सिर्फ एक तस्वीर थी
या तसव्वुर की कोई परछाई,
मालूम न था मुझे ठीक से,
फिर भी ...
एक बार और मुड़ के देखने की इच्छा हुई  ।

है वही आसमान सी खुशबू
आंखों में कशिश...जैसे सागर की गहराई,
शायद हजारों बार देखा,
फिर भी...
एक बार और मुड़ के देखने की इच्छा हुई ।

लबों पे वह दिलकश हंसी
जिससे नवंबर की धूप भी थी शरमाई,
भला भूले वह कैसे कोई,
फिर भी...
एक बार और मुड़ के देखने की इच्छा हुई ।

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English Translation:

Was it just a picture
Or a figment of my imagination 
I was not too sure
Still..
I wished to see it once more.

I could smell the fragrance of the sky in there
Those alluring eyes...feels like the depths of the ocean
Have witnessed it a thousand times maybe
Still...
I wished to see it once more.

The lips adorned that charming smile
Which makes even the November sunshine to shy away (or feel less confident)
Who would ever forget that
Still...
I wished to see it once more.

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Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Saturday, April 20, 2024

Deemed Different!


Do I see nothing? 
Or may be hear nothing? 
Oh no no! They can be mimicked.
Possibly you feel nothing!

I feel nothing? 
But my heart still beats.
Oh no no!
It's just another thumping sound.
It really means nothing!

Why does it have to mean nothing? 
It might just be something
For I do not hear, I feel my heart beating.
I feel the rush of happiness 
And the blush of Love
My eyes maybe illegible
And tears invisible 
But my soul...
It cries the emotions thereof.

It might not be what it seems. 
For your actions for perfection
belong to different themes. 
For you speak of bliss and light
And the world relates to tales of dreary sight.
Even "belong" seems to not belong
For you are different, so different 
Like the lyrics of an alien-made song.

That came to me as a blessing 
But was taken as a curse
By the world that tried to coerce
My melody to their different verse
I see the beauty of the morning
And feel the depth of the charming night
My words smell the dew's purity
And innocence of the flowers
That dance with delight

There maybe a sense of fear
But never of loss
For the night maybe dark
But it leads to a morning of hopeful gloss
Be as different as it may seem to the world
But my words of Love
Have been my dreamy abode
On and on, I will move on that road. 
For the catharsis my thoughts seek
They have, upon me, bestowed.

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A little something:

The thoughts for this piece have been there with me since a few years now. When I came across the prompt "Catharsis", I knew the time has come. 

Catharsis, the term, has several interpretations depending upon the context. The popular interpretation, as I have seen,  is to express deep-seated emotions through some medium, mostly through arts. 

In this piece, I have used a conversational style of representation. The context used here is primarily based on 2 different mediums,viz. literature and theater.

The aim is to let go of the things that have been pulling you back or are too burdensome for you. The first step is acceptance of the burden that you carry. In the process of letting go, you end up losing things, and that loss is the harbinger of new beginnings. The outcome also becomes the catalyst of the process  And I find this beautiful, poetic.

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Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Thursday, April 18, 2024

The Morning Spell

I woke up to the fragrance 
Of a nautical twilight 
And witnessed the smiling cuckoo's voice
Streaming through the room's skylight

A moment, and some more, passed by
As I waited there 
Awaiting nothing
But I let the dreams fly

The tingling bells of my window chime
Chimed and clinked and twinkled
To the touch of the first rays of the sun
They sprinkled
Tales of the journey and moments of yore
That the sun listened
From far across the shore

They entailed the stories of the smiles
That jingled my heart strings
From three thousand and some miles
And I almost hear the voice
That melts my soul
And lets my heart rejoice

Upon the caress of the breeze
The wind chime calls again
And sings the song's bridge
That runs through its vein

With a smile in my heart
And dewy glimmer in my eyes
I go on with the day
As I glance towards the skies 
The skies seemed fine
But were still under a spell
Possibly of that smile
And of the tingling bell
Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Tuesday, April 16, 2024

Of Desires

Of the thousand desires
That rules the human mind
Some are flaunted
And some confined 

Then there are those 
That rule beyond leaps and bounds 
Of mind, of heart, 
And of the eternal soul
Amongst the cosmic sounds

A desire to desire
Or be desired
Desires wane
When inspiration gets tired

But somewhere down in the dark
Lies a lone waning desire
That has stepped back for a while
In the busy hustling fire

It was fiery like the sun's core
And loving like it's rays
The waning desire was masked
In the shadows of the ecliptic phase

That phase, too shall pass
When the hope shines it's rays
For the sunlight wanes for hours
And the moon wanes for days

Burn like the sun 
With all your might
Or glow like the moon 
With borrowed light
But the light will wax once more
Keep the faith
And believe in your core


Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Monday, April 15, 2024

A True End?

The dusk blushed with a flushed purple
And the paper daisy flowers heaved a sigh
For there she was once again
On her way to the roads
That dreamt of the sky

The noises babbled 
"sky was the limit", they jabbered 
But what is limit's limit
Rarely did their thoughts scrabbled

But she was a traveller
With a dreamer's heart 
It was a vain attempt, she knew.. 
To tell beginnings and ends apart

For time has never been linear
And space is home
To ellipses, circles, and spheres
There would never be a true end
Even if you walk miles or light years

For end has never truly been
Nor does the tale of absolute things
It has always been a mirage
Like folk tales that a tourist strings

So she journeyed on
To the wake of dawn
As flowers bloom
And the life as we know it
Goes on

"Because a journey does not have a true source nor does it have a true destination. Source and destination are mere semblances. Journey is the sole veracity."
Excerpt from 'Enigmatic Horizon'

 



Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Thursday, April 11, 2024

Solace in Chaos

Searched for it in the crowd
In the never-ending noises
The crowded streets echoed
Nothing but silence

A silence so chaotic
It had the word of the woods
In the wilderness of the self
A voice hid under the hoods

It had the shine
Of the twinkling brook
That shone during the noon
And essence of that known melody
From the words
Of your favorite book

There was the charm of the cosmic chaos
And pull of the magnetic solace
That travellers often seek
In their journeys of perpetual grace

In the nothingness of the chaos
There was a concept of loss
But there too was a perk of discovery 
Of yourself once you swam across

That voice will be your soothing breeze
For journeys that you take
Even a moment's worth of solace
Is paramount in that momentous wake. 


Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Wednesday, April 10, 2024

A Pen That Bleeds Green

Green has never been 
A conforming or usual choice
For jotting your mind
Or scribbling your heart's voice

For they think of red,
Maybe even of pink and blue
As all the emotions
A writer's heart could sew

But there's more to a pen
That conveys the thoughts
Of a 'naut freed by love,
And binded in knots

That pen bleeds
But bleeds in green
For it knows the emerald ocean
It carries within

There may be streaks of blue,
Or turquoise and tinges of pink
(But never red or black) 
Even when the cosmos tests...
Tests it...
To a treacherous brink

The heart did witness shreds of red
But the pigments would vanish
As the beating breath would thread..
Words of sunshine,
And chimes of breeze,
The smile of daffodils 
Into the depth of the inking seas

That pen bleeds
And will bleed in green
For there's always a tomorrow 
With a charismatic sheen



Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved

Thursday, April 4, 2024

Gifted in breathing

"Gifted" is always not true. Whenever we encounter any creative person, most often than not we think that they must be gifted.

But not all are born with the gift. Not every painter paints a masterpiece whenever they see a canvas. Not every writer strings in the perfect words every time they touch a pen. Musicians too struggle with sounds of monotony. Some, like me, might not even have any intuitive talent for creation.

It takes unwavering passion, dedication, hardwork, and above all, love to continue on that path. Of course, the world might not see the learning curve. Or the passion might often be mistaken as an inherent gift. But flowers that are never bouquet-ed are still flowers. 

If it is easy to be a wildflower? It is not. It is not easy... absolutely not easy... to continue doing something in which you are the least bit talented... but the love for the craft, and a hope keeps you going.

Maybe someday you will be able to say it in the words that you have always dreamt of. Maybe someday your words will give a flicker of hope to somebody in need... even if it's just one person. Maybe someday your words will spread the Love you always believed in.

And even if that never happened, atleast you would know you never gave up on your dedication for the craft. And a life lived with happiness, passion, hope, and love is the best one could ever have. So, not having talent is no excuse. 

We might not be talented in breathing, but we still do. For Life.

Copyright © 2024 One Life To Live. All Rights Reserved