She knew Love isn’t something she was destined for,
It’s a cage of hope and expectations.
And she was a bird with a broken wing and golden dreams.
Category: Poetry
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The green knight
SIR GAWAIN AND THE GREEN KNIGHT. it’s a late 14th-century poem with potent writing. The author is anonymous, The title given to the poet is Gawain Poet or pearl poet. I wonder why Pearl? Why not Emerald, anyway it gives that envision the theatrical view. Then I craved further knowledge about the characters and the full story, I read the poem and I got lost in those words and eventually forget it exists. It’s an urban legend type of story. One Christmas evening, a green knight came to a kingdom challenging the court to cut off his head with his sword and one who did have to look for him a year after on the same Christmas evening bring the sword with them and allow the green knight to cut their head off. For a while, no one came forward. He laughs at the court and his pride was high in the sky. ” I’ll do ” a voice echo back and forth on the court was belong to Gawain, a fragile young man who was searching for purpose in his life. Now the green knight gave Gawain a purpose. He did chop the head off of the green knight with a sword. The green knight went back to his place. The time starts to tick for Gawain’s flowing from the back of his head. People in the village cheered him as a hero. The months passed, and he have to contain himself and find the green knight place to give his head as a trade they agreed upon. As Gawain went on the journey. He faced obstacles and magical entities. Once he did drop anchor at the green knight place. He gets down with a sword for the knight to cut off his head. Did he get his head? chopped?
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City lights
Somewhere between living and dreaming…
The enthusiast with relish is lost…
Made her forget the dreams…
Which her heart once embossed…
She wondered whether she heard her inner voice aright…
The beauty of her eyes lay lost in CITYLIGHTS…
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Petals of Trust
In a quaint little cottage, a world of enchanting beauty, resided a little child named Alka, blessed with the wisdom of her loving grandpa. Together, they cultivated a magical garden, where nature’s palette unfolded in a kaleidoscope of vibrant hues.
One serene evening, as the golden sun began its descent, casting a warm glow upon the land, Alka ventured into the garden, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. Amongst the tapestry of blossoms, her gaze fixated upon a mesmerizing pink rose, its velvety petals beckoning to her like whispers from a secret realm.
With tiny fingers, she plucked the rose from its abode, cradling its delicate beauty in her hands. Unbeknownst to her, her grandpa watched her with a twinkle in his eyes, appreciating the innocence that danced within her soul.
“Dear Alka,” he gently spoke, “May I admire the rose for a fleeting moment?”
Clutching the precious bloom tightly, Alka retorted, “No, it is mine! I won’t give it away.”
Her grandpa, the paragon of patience, replied, “Indeed, my dear, it is yours to cherish. Yet, might you lend it to me for a mere minute?” And so, she surrendered a single petal, reluctantly parting with a fragment of her treasure.
Her grandpa, adorned with wisdom, smiled tenderly and said, “Thank you, my dear.” However, he repeated his plea, requesting the rose once more. One by one, Alka relinquished additional petals, caught between her desire to keep the rose and her curiosity about her grandpa’s intentions.
Petal by petal, until only the bare stem remained clasped within Alka’s grasp. Her heart sank, disappointment tugging at her innocent spirit. She wondered why her grandpa insisted on the entire flower.
With a gentle touch, her grandpa lifted her chin, gazing into her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Softly, he spoke, “My dear Alka, I asked for the rose because I wished to fashion it into a splendid hair band, a crown befitting the beauty that resides within you. It would have adorned your flowing locks, reminding you of the magic we share in this garden.”
Alka’s eyes widened, realization dawning upon her. The rose she had so ardently clung to was meant to be transformed into a wondrous symbol of love from her grandpa. Yet, in her reluctance, she had missed the opportunity to wear nature’s gift upon her head.
In the echoes of this tender tale lies a timeless message,
Just as Alka learned to trust her grandpa’s intentions, we, too, are called to place our faith in the loving embrace of the Divine. When God asks for something from us, be it a possession, a dream, or a piece of our hearts, He does so not to deprive or diminish, but to create space for renewal and transformation.
Embrace the dance of faith, for in giving everything to God, we discover that His blessings know no bounds, and His love envelops us like a gentle breeze, carrying us closer to the fulfillment of our truest purpose.
So, dear friend who ever read this, when the Divine calls upon you, listen with an open heart, and offer your gifts without questioning. Trust him and he replaces with abundant blessings, love, growth, and a deeper connection to the beautiful symphony of life orchestrated by His divine hand.
GOD BLESS YOU – WHOEVER READS THIS : )
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Man Ki Baat
Thoda Rukh idhr bhi kariye, baitha hai koi apke intezaar me
Itna bhi kya rukhsat hona, itni bhi kya mashrufiyat..
Thoda zikr hamara bhi ho, do batein hum bhi krein,
thodi khwahish hai guft-gu ki,
Aap aayenge humare paas bhi ek waqt lekar, baitha h koi iss iqrar mein!!
Yun to ek pal bhi sadiyon sa lgta h apke intezar mein,
Baithe rehte h hum raah nihare, kabhi aayenge aap paas humare
Fir aapke aane se, ek arsa bhi nikl jata h apse taqraar me..!!
Uff ye kambakkht raat kaise guzregi
Ab to bss ye tere khayalo se milegi
In bebas ankhon ka kya kasur, ye to bs ab tere didar ko tarsengi..
Ye nind bhi ab to mujhse ye keh ke chli gyi ki.
Jis awaz ko sun ke hum aate h, aaj wo nhi suni, to humari tumhari aaj baat nhi banegi
Aapke sath waqt kaise gujra khabar na rehti h kuch
Hrr baar adhura sa reh jata h kuch n kuch!
Main chahta hoon tumse bolu kuch na kuch!
Prr ye kambakkht kabhi pura hi nhi hota h, jise kehte h kuch na kuch.!!
~Rk
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A Self Talk
Don’t know why I’ve been here for so long
Even when I knew this is not where I belong
Don’t know where I’m going wrong
And got so tired of staying strong
I now live in a lonely zone
stop myself from reaching the throne
Forgot all the love I’ve been shown
And turned my heart into a useless stone
There are people like me in every clique
But you don’t notice
You don’t notice the tears that roll down our cheeks
And the fear that makes us weak
Seeing people looking at us and laughing within
Made us build an unbreakable wall in between
We’ve been through a world which they’ve never seen
But still we never tell them they are too mean
I sometimes wonder
Why we feel low at times
Is it due to our wrong imagination
Or due to lack of motivation
But no!
Its all because of the demons
The demons in our head come from nowhere
And drive us here into this kind of despair
I know sometimes I and many of us may feel insecure
And somehow learnt to endure
But not anymore!
All we need to do now is stay calm
So that we can lessen the harm
Engage in things instead of being alone
So we don’t turn into a maleficent of our own
One should learn to confess to oneself
Else the things will start to possess
Accepting and healing is hard
And so is suffering
Brain manipulation can only give us temporary motivation
So this should be a self process I guess
No other person can really help to remove this distress
The strength to change is within
It’s all about the courage we have and the efforts we put….
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It’s Ok!!
It’s ok to feel left out
Not every crowd is worth fitting in
It’s ok to stress out
Not a single person has got everything sorted
It’s ok to cry out
Not necessary you always have to be the strongest
It’s ok to recess
You can come back stronger later
It’s ok to get tired
You might have been through a lot
It’s ok to give up
You might have had your own reasons
It’s ok to be imperfect
Learn to embrace it
It’s ok to be weird
Discern you are unique
It’s ok to be yourself
Spurn others opinion
Some people love you the way you are
Some people wish to have a life like yours
Some people dream of being you
It’s ok
You will feel alright
You will feel better
It will all make sense someday
It’s ok!
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“Masterpiece of Love”
You are the paint that colors my world,
The canvas that holds my every swirl.
You are the brush that guides my hand,
The art that I create with each command.
You are the melody that fills my heart,
The rhythm that sets me apart.
You are the lyrics that I sing,
The music that makes my heart ring.
You are the words that form my speech,
The language that I use to teach.
You are the story that I tell,
The tale that I spin so well.
With you, I am an artist, a poet, a singer,
A creator of beauty, a lover of life’s zinger.
Together we’ll craft a masterpiece,
A love that will never cease.
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Perplexity
The agony of not being able to express your emotions
The prodigy of having someone who understands your unsaid words