Embers

Winter has come. It hurts more now when the cold, chilling winds rub furiously against the bruises on my skin. It hurts but I will never give up walking in the dark, chilling nights. Darkness, cold and pain make the perfect combination. As the night grows darker and colder, it hurts more. There will come a point when I will not be able to bear this pain. But when I will be on the verge of breaking down, your words will echo within me, "Darling, its a matter of time." Yea, I should hold onto this pain for some more time till the winter passes. 
Then the Sun will grow brighter and the heat will ignite the embers within me to light me up. 
Because it is the heat which revives my soul and defines my existence.

Picture Courtesy: Kapil Sharwa

SNAKE

I sometimes see a snake in my dreams. I see it crawling behind me as I walk in a dark forest. I try to run fast, faster; alas, I fall down! The snake crawls onto me and I shriek out of terror. It bites me injecting its poison into my blood. I see my veins turning purple and feel my body getting paralysed. Numb. But I could feel the coldness in my blood. I could feel my heartbeat lowering down. I thought I was dying but it was something more than death. The poison was decaying my soul and not my body. I felt pain, it was as if something was chopping me into pieces without sheding a single drop of blood. Anxiety. Struggle to survive. And the next minute, I felt nothing and found myself in a box of grey colour. I closed my eyes.

...I woke up.

Woke up in an other world.

Artwork by: Priyansh Saxena

Resurrection {Part-2}

Your thirst quenched.

Love united your souls.

You grew pitiable

Questioning the Divine,

I – the creator.

Your faith shackled

But resurrected.

In love you found divine solace.

But dear creation,

Was it because

You de- established your faith in me?

Or was it because

That faith remained unmoved;

Firm and strong

Like the mountains

Standing firm in the adversities?

And you discovered that faith

Of yours through love;

In love!

Alas! You will fail to resolve

This conflict within.

A conflict if resolved

Will answer the greatest question of Time,

“Who being whose creator?”

A question which remains unanswered.

What emerged out of the depth

Is the naked truth that

The creation and the creator

Are but, inseparable!


P.S.- To read the first part follow the link below,
Resurrection {Part-1}

Image via Internet

A little too much

Written by Aarshi Sharma

Its not you, its me.
And I, I like being by my self a little too much.
I like chasing the dream that  brings the heck out of me.
I like to stand in the storm, appreciate its powerfulness
and then as it comes to a stand still, all powerless,

I know I have come an inch closer to where I wanna be.

I like drowning my heavy heart to feel the soothing weightlessness of air.
I like the cool soft breeze gently kissing my cheeks, unbiased.
I let my hair be, when the wind takes over them, only to caress them later behind my ears.
I like the simplicity of winds and the liveliness it leaves me with.
I like the serenity in air when no one else is around.
I like this peacefulness of mind when everything comes to a halt.

Sometimes I'm calm as still waters on a full moon wintery night.
Sometimes I'm rolling as a ceaseless river, bubbling noisily at every turn and tress.
At other times I'm merely a mirage,
At infinity, leaving you spellbound!
But at all the times, I reflect clarity.
A yes for yes and a no for no.
Oh no! I don't read between the lines.

And who ever you may be,
You remain incompetent if you try to hamper me.
You can never mould me into what I'm not.

I am merry. I am bound to flow.
I like to let me be me.
I live by my terms.
Its not you, its me.
And I, I like being by my self a little too much.

Know the writer-

"Some dreams she had, there were things about which she was mad". Aarshi Sharma, an engineer is on a journey to explore herself. She is a dreamer and a vibrant person with a spirit of living life to the fullest. To read more from her, stay tuned...

Image Source: Internet

Shackled

Written by Payal Chauhan

A spirit lost in the woods,
swifts, sits,
laughs and moans.
Away from the evils,
away from goods,
resides in melodies,
talks to the stones.

There are blue faces and black sky,
absconds colours,
roams grey.
For their thoughts tattered and heads high,
dreams of togetherness,
walks stray.

Gleaming glasses cause wounds deep,
wants bruises that do not pain.
Mind is lost and paths steep,
treads barefoot,
leaves some stain.

Is it confinement or a spree?
Walks on mud,
embraces the sun.
A life shackled only to be free,
searches something or someone ?
A spirit lost in the woods,
swifts, sits,
laughs and moans.
Away from the evils,
away from goods,
resides in melodies,
talks to the stones.

There are blue faces and black sky,
absconds colours,
roams grey.
For their thoughts tattered and heads high,
dreams of togetherness,
walks stray.

Gleaming glasses cause wounds deep,
wants bruises that do not pain.
Mind is lost and paths steep,
treads barefoot,
leaves some stain.

Is it confinement or a spree?
Walks on mud,
embraces the sun.
A life shackled only to be free,
searches something or someone?

Shades!

Blue nights, deep thoughts.
The white moon beams
Entering from the window,
Places a kiss on her face.
Gently flicking the yellow pages of her book.
Her cheeks turn bubble gum pink
As she smiles.
Her glittery brown eyes,
Now a little moist;
As she finds a snap in her book.
That was a grey snap,
But their smiles were vibrant.
Two little girls, cute and jolly;
Holding hands and laughing.
Those were golden days.
Colourful memories
And shades of their friendship.