A moonlit night - Anshul Thakur

Ambling through lush in a moonlit night,

Captivating picturesque through my eyes.

Stars were gleaming like never before,

Ornamenting the venust panoramic sky.

Zephyr tunes in with silence,

Whispering to coalesce "you in I".

Heard the nightingale playing the twine,

Inkling in me placid insight.

Flowers were dancing under the welkin,

With moon and stars fostering this into a chimeric ball night.

And there came the clouds, unearthing assemblance,

Icing was the moon light mellow touch, cherishing their oneness.

Strolling in meadows, was adding value to life.

And soon the greenery caught my eyes.

Trees were swaying exuding love,

Branches beckoned me with ceaseless caress.

Inconceivable relief from hay was hailing,

Beauteous green was dispersing endearment.

Amid the bush lied a flowery bed.

I overlooked thorns to hearten it's jewel toned aromatic vividness.

"Imperfectly perfect is the core of very being",

This enlightenment about life wisdom creation was preaching.

Shortly perplexed by a firefly, when it bumped into,

Yearned ensuing, I pursued.

It took me to it's empyrean cosmos,

Where millions of fireflies were illuminating,

Illuminating as if seraphic divinity lurked the earth.

This seems the terrain of mystical beings,

Comely than the cherry blossoms of spring ever could be.

There was movement in stillness,

Confabulation in silence,

Refining my soul with piousness amid morality.

Solemnly the nature tattletaled about it's ethereal beauty,

Acknowledging that darkness can both defy and define vivacity.

I once again looked up at moon with gratitude,

As I walked back home leisurely.

क्षितिज- Priti Kulshrestha

मैं धरती ठहरी हुई सी

तू अंबर उड़ता हुआ सा।

दोनो एक दूसरे की चाहत में पागल ।

आसमां समाना चाहे धरती के आंचल में ,

धरती उड़ना चाहे आसमां के प्यार में।

पर!!!

प्यार बेशुमार होते हुए,

दोनो का मिलना असंभव ।

तपना होगा उनको इस तपिश में ,

जलना होगा उनको इस कशिश में।

दूर होते हुए भी,

आसमां का प्यार बरसता है ,

धरती के ऊपर बारिश बन कर ।

धरती समा लेती है उसका प्यार ,

अपने सीने में धड़कन बनाकर ।

एक चाहत दोनो की!

कभी तो मिलेंगे?

कभी तो एक होगे ? उस क्षितिज की तरह।

जहां दोनों एक दूसरे में समाए नजर आते है ।

- 💕 प्रीत दिल से 💕

अहिल्या के राम से प्रश्न - Anil Kumar Singh

छल किसने किया और कौन गया छला

अपराध किसका और दंड किसको मिला

मेरे इस प्रश्न का उत्तर आपको ही देना है

राम यदि आपने बनाया मुझे नारी

नहीं तो बना देना. मुझे पुनः एक बार शिला

 

क्या दोष था मेरा,

मैंने तो जीवन भर

अपने सारे कर्तव्य निभाये

भूलकर अपनी सारी कामनाएं सारी इच्छाएं

हारी भी तो मैं देह की अतृप्त कामना से

जो जागी थी छली इंद्र के गौतम वेष में

स्पर्श से ही ,कर रही थी तब भी मै

जैसे अपना कोई कर्तव्य निर्वाह ही

छल कामी इंद्र का था पर मैं तो

समझी थी गौतम को ही

मैं पूछती आज मैं आपसे हे राम

क्या मेरी निज इच्छाओं का 

देह की कामनाओं का

कोई मूल्य न था

सत्य ज्ञात था समस्त गौतम को भी

देखा था स्वयं उसने अपने ही नेत्रों से

फिर ये दंड, ये शाप मुझे  ही क्यों

कि प्रस्तर खंड सा हो जाएं

मेरा हृदय

जिसमें न जागे कोई इच्छाएं

शिला सी हो जाये देंह मेरी

जिसमें न जागे कोई सुप्त कामनाएं

वो ऋषि गौतम जिनके लिए

मैंने अर्पित सारा जीवन कर डाला

मुझे किंचित समझ न पाएं

मैंने तो अपने सारे संबंध

पूर्ण निष्ठा से थे निभाये

गौतम ने अपने नेत्रों से

देखा और समझा था

इंद्र का छल सारा

इंद्र तो था ही छली और कामी

शरीर मेरा था मात्र लक्ष्य उसका

पर गौतम तो थे परम ज्ञानी

क्यो़ं भूल और अपराध में

अंतर न कर पाये

जो घटा जो हुआ

वो एक भूल थी मात्र

या भूल भी क्यों

मैं तो गई थी छली

चलो मानती हूं मैं

क्षणिक क्रोध के वशीभूत

दे डाला था शाप मुझे

पर सत्य का क्या उपरांत भी

उन्हें तनिक  ज्ञान न हुआ

सुधार लूं भूल अपनी

ये भी भान न हुआ

क्यूं न ली एक बार भी सुधि मेरी

क्या क्रोध की ज्वाला में

जल जाना ही ऋषि कर्म था

क्या सहधर्मिणी का  त्याग, निष्ठा भूल

उसकी एक त्रुटि को आधार मान

जीवन पर्यंत शिला बनाना

ही श्रेष्ठ पति धर्म था

मैं तो गयीं थी ठगी

अपराधी तो इंद्र था

फिर गौतम मेरे लिये क्यों न लड़े

क्यों  न रहे साथ मेरे खड़े

क्यो़ं न मेरे लिये न्याय मांगते

समस्त संसार से टकराये

इंद्र के जीवन को क्यो़ं न नर्क बना पाये

अपने तपोबल से क्यो़ं न

उसका सिंहासन हिला पाये

सत्य ये है

कि मेरे प्रति

ऋषि गौतम का आचरण

एक सामान्य पुरुष का आचरण

जिसमें सत्य अपनाने का साहस नहीं

भूल क्षमा का भाव ही नहीं

पुरुषोचित परंपरावादी सोच से

ऊपर उठने का साहस ही  नहीं

एक नयी दृष्टि ही नहीं

कहूं क्या कायर उन्हें,

ये शब्द भी मुझे लगता

उनके लिए अब कठोर नहीं

हे राम मैं हूं ऋणी

कि आपके स्पर्श से

मेरी शिला सी देह जीवंत हो उठी

अब फिर उठेगी कामनाएं नव

अब उर में जागेगें भाव

देह में उभरेंगे पुनः

कामनाओं के ज्वार

पर मेरे विगत वर्षों को कौन लौटायेगा 

मेरा न्याय तो हुआ न अब तक

मुझे न्याय कौन दिलायेगा

मैंने काटी इस निर्जन में

एकाकी कितनी नीरव निशाएं

प्रस्तर खंड था मेरा शरीर

मृत थीं सारी कोमल भावनाएं

क्यों मैं ही रही अभिशापित

परित्यक्त परित्याज्य निंदनीय

ढोती हुई

अपमान ,उपेक्षा, तिरस्कार

लेकर

जीवन भर की ग्लानि

जीवन भर का उपहास

मैं ही क्यों जीती रही

इतने वर्षों शीश झुकाये

अपराधी देवराज घूमता रहा

गर्वोन्नत शीश उठाये

देवताओं को भी पता ये

सारा दृष्टांत था

फिर भी कहां मुझे न्याय मिला

इंद्र के उऋंखल आचरण में

मौन सहमति  थी क्या देवों की भी?

मुझे नहीं चाहिए

करूणा और दया

मुझे चाहिए न्याय

इंद्र और गौतम दोनों ही

हैं मेरे अपराधी

इंद्र तो था छली और पराया

देह मेरी थी लक्ष्य उसका

पर गौतम तो मेरे  अपने थे

मेरे अपराधी गौतम अधिक

जिन्होनें मेरी वर्षों की

त्याग तपस्या निष्ठा का

ये मोल दिया

मैं थी संसार में सबसे रुपसी

जब गौतम के साथ बंधी थी

परिणय बंधन में

उस समय कोई भी मुझे

अपना सकता था

मैं चाहती तो किसी को भी अपना सकती थी

पर जब मैंने बंधन स्वीकारे तो निभाये

तब भी जब गौतम डूबे रहे थे

मात्र ऋषि कर्म निभाने में

मेरी इच्छाओं मेरी कामनाओं

का उनके सम्मुख कुछ मोल न था

पर मैने कभी न दी उलाहना

न भटकी कभी पथ से अपने

आपके चरण रज से राम कहने को तो मिल गई

मुक्ति मुझे पर अब क्या ये जग सहज मन से

मुझे अपना पायेगा

क्या मुझे मेरा खोया हुआ  आत्मसम्मान

लौटा पायेगा

क्यो़ं वही रूढ़िवादी परंपराएं

वही रुढ़िवादी सोच

क्यों वही सड़ी गली

न्याय व्यवस्थाएं

जो ऐसे अपराधों मे भी

दोषी को दोषी न कह सकें

नारी को ही दोषी ठहराएं

पुरूष प्रायः छूट ही जाये

उसके हिस्से में तो

पीड़ा अपमान  उपहास

तिरस्कार कभी न आये

ये दोहरी सोच

ये दोहरा मापदंड किसलिए

ये कौन सा है न्याय

कि अपराधी तो बच जाये

और पीड़ित जीवन भर

दंड उठाये

तुम मेरे इन प्रश्नों के

उत्तर दो

तुम ही अब न्याय करो

क्या अपराध मेरा था

जो ये दंड मुझे मिला

क्या मैं सचमुच इस दंड की भागी थी

प्रश्न कुछ और भी हैं जब गौतम ने न ली

वर्षों सुध मेरी कर दिया मेरा त्याग

तो क्या अब पूर्ण स्वतंत्र हूं

अपना जीवन स्वेच्छा से जीने के लिये

कर सकती हूँ क्या मैं

पूर्ण अपनी सारी कामनाएं

सारी इच्छाएं

क्या मैं जी लूं अपना जीवन

बंधन मुक्त

अपराधबोध मुक्त

मात्र अपने लिए

हे राम बहुत सुना आपके बारे में

समाज में पुरुषों और स्त्रियों के लिये

कुछ सम मापदंड बनाये

करें कुछ  इस न्याय व्यवस्था का

मेरे प्रश्नों के उत्तर दें

हो सके तो मुझे दिलवायें न्याय

यदि इन प्रश्नों के उत्तर संभव न हों

तो मुझे पुनः शिला बनाये

जानती हूं मैं

अहिल्या की इस कथा में सदा

गौरवगान होगा आपकी चरण रज का

मेरी पीड़ाओं ,इंद्र के अपराध

गौतम के कायरता पूर्ण आचरण(मेरी दृष्टि से)

का कभी उल्लेख भी न होगा

   

The precipice of poetry that seeks redemption - Hridya Sharma

Callous whispers that uproar the fear in my mind,

Bounty tales of my existence may cease to be left behind.

Before the pen has surmounted the sufficient ink,

Off the high piles of books, the characters beheld,

I stand forlorn, under the brink of adversity,

About to sink.

Blest with the beauty of healing humans,

With parts of me that help them emancipate

From their miseries, from their violent incapability to communicate.

The mortality of my being twisted in the trap of virtue,

Traces of metaphors that personify the true,

Every word of my soul pledged to sinew,

For death and I had a rendezvous

Shielding under the symbolism of this fleeting breath,

I draw under the apparel of the hidden depth.

Unsmeared touches that shattered the untold lines,

The syllables recorded silently scarred my spine.

Scarred by the lustful eyes,

They say every dead thing needs more mourning

But nothing left to mourn in me is alive.

Galloping in strides, I danced away,

To be written in a sonnet that announces its way.

With his hands, he tore me into pieces apart,

I held my breath to quench the pain in my heart.

Blest are those who can unconcernedly find,

To be at peace with the title in their mind.

For chaos defined the context of my muse,

The looms of grey highlighted the mighty blue.

I was the poem that was in love with a poet, yearning to be his dream

Alas, all I am left with is grief, the continuation of love that ended in my screams.

Thus, unseen from the world I lie,

In a utopian land where I see the unknown sky.

Kneeling in gratitude unlamented I wish to stay,

I am poetry that seeks redemption,

Steal me away from the starry ray,

Rock the ages, cleft for me,

Let me write myself in the precipice of thee.

-Hridya

Starseed- Alfia Saini

It has taken me too long to love this body:

My lush oasis in a barren dune.

Though I still pick it apart,

Cut it with words,

To bleed through my art,

I relish the kiss of the sun on my face in the bright afternoon.

My soul is a violent tempest,

Raging over a wildflower fallow.

And though often I feel that what's burning within

shines out through frosted glass,

It is my feet that bind me to the hallowed Earth and my fingers that brush through the grass.

And my soul alone could not feel the sting

Of the frigid winter freeze,

Nor my spirit inhale the sweet blossoms of spring

That are ferried to me by the breeze.

Then it matters not that this vessel will fade,

So insidious thoughts I shall spurn.

It is from the atoms of stars I was made,

And to the stars I will return.

Leaves- Anjela Patrick

Today I sat down under a tree nestled amongst the charming, lush flowers

On a soil made of the lived, remembered, and forgotten memories.

The enchanted trail of all the lost.

Today the leaves were the album.

A gallery of pictures that a camera could never incarcerate They hold the moments of when my heart knew a song.

A melody that did not hurt but healed

The flowers whispered to me some secrets.

Treasures of bliss that were locked with the gnawing mysteries of the

unknown.

Is this the solace I was chasing?

I have saved this place in my heart. And when you are found but lost in uncertainty,

When you have something but your hand is still empty,

When the mirror you see reflects the fiction of yourself you have in your head,

When you fall into helplessness,

When you lack the confidence to face your tear-streaked face,

When your thread of fate feels entangled,

When you feel you've lost you,

Ask me the way, and you'll find me beside you.

I cannot be the light you need

But I will try to fix your frayed parts and orchestrate a new beginning,

I will lend you the shoulder I needed

And we will have a leaf that will tell the story we shared,

Woes of the Moon- SUMBUL MOIN

The Moon hangs low

Like mistletoe

Precariously perched on cloudy arms

Of Night’s majestic charm.

In awe

Of the raw

Brazenness floating

In the air, gloating

About their nocturnal fling.

Stars shimmer through

Branched boughs

To witness

Them both in distress

For the union, though grand,

Can never stand

Up to the laws of nature who

Betrothed regal Night

To faded Morning Light.

Still, each day

The pining Moon

Eagerly awaits the gloom

Of their transient forever.

The skies raise a toast

While they make the most

Of numbered moments together

Gently shedding tears

Pearled perfectly in between layers

Of earnest prayers

To a God who pays no heed.

Finally, at dawn

The Night retreats in lovelorn plight

Away from the Moon

Into the arms of Morning Light.

The sky is beautiful, not anymore- Bitupan Das

The sky is beautiful, Not anymore

A beautiful night sky

Not anymore

Because you’re not here with me

To show me the magic

Through your eyes.

Tonight I can’t see the stars

Maybe because there are dark clouds in my eyes

And slowly it’s raining

Raining sadness like hemoglobin

And the love like oxygen that is flowing in my blood

Through my veins.

 

I am thirsty

Thirsty for your love

Your lips

How can even whiskey replace it?

Wind is blowing

And it is softly touching my skin

And I am closing my eyes

To feel your hand over my body

How can even these winds

Replace the soft touch of your hand

 

The sky is beautiful

Not anymore

Because you’re not here with me

How can even the moon replace you

 

The sky is beautiful

Not anymore

Because you’re not here with me

And I am too not here with me

Because I loved you more than I loved myself

And you took me with you

PRINCESS CAN BE ON WHEELCHAIR -Sangeeta Sharma 'Sangam'

I am not just a body,

I am a dignified soul

Don't underestimate my existence

I am playing my beautiful role

Why you think too much,

I am rare

Darling world!

PRINCESS CAN BE ON WHEELCHAIR.

You see my body,

Count my flaws

I am not just a petal,

I am a complete rose

I am deeply enlightened

Free like music in air

Darling world!

PRINCESS CAN BE ON WHEELCHAIR.

I am magnetic,

Aim to attract whole world

With the wings of patience,

I fly like a bird

Beautify my face

Applying color of prayers

Darling world!

PRINCESS CAN BE ON WHEELCHAIR.

Self talk - Pavithra

Bright sunlight scatters on the window.

I woke up with a voice saying, you've got to go.

I heard a crystal-clear voice in front of the mirror.

You can do it, says my inner voice.

It's the voice behind my success.

It's the voice that guides my journey.

The voices were loud, turning into self-talk.

Self-talk heals like therapy.

Self-talk relaxes the mind.

Self-talk lightens the heart.

Self-talk embarks on the idea.

Self-talk evokes belief.

Self-talk enhances the skill.

Self-talk encourages goals.

To acknowledge your needs and likes,

Self-talk plays an important role.

Positive self-talk energizes us.

Negative self-talk deprives us.

Greater self-talk means a better life.

Advice, discussion, and chatting are best, but self-talk is a remedy.

Never mind other talks that bring us down,

And never give up on self-talk; it's a buster.

To know the answer to the problem,

To know how we feel about the situation,

To know whether we are relaxed or burdened,

Self-talk clears the way.

Deepened by thoughts,

You go, girl, my inner voice awakens.

Doubted about the ability to do,

That's my girl, my inner voice acknowledges.

Being tensed to have a cnversation,

You are bold enough inner voice motivates me.

To friends and family, prevail as mature and humble talk.

In times of hardship, self-talk is the comfort zone.

Self-talk is not crazy.

An activity to unlock our inner self

To unleash the abundant potential within us.

Wise use of self-talk eases life.

The best therapy that heals the core of the soul

The inner voice strengthens as a result of endless self-talk.

That connects our mind and heart,

To protect our souls.

The School of Crime- Tanvi Nishchal

Welcome all offsprings of neglected and deprived

Welcome you all to the School of Crime

Where your only weapon is your mind

You shall be placed according to your fate

The houses would become a spitting image of your traits

At first, I call upon the anit socialite wasp and his dark room of sociopath

Where they do their isolated maths

Their motto is to live and live on your own

Detached, unbothered all alone

They are harmless being at least they try

Anyway they are worth the hype

Up next I present to you the infamous psychopath’s red room

Under the shadows of evil, they have been groomed

They are head of the heads

Instilling fear they make sure that everyone dreads

When they are the ones seeking a home

But they are confined to misunderstood domes

The last but most certainly not the least

Are our very famous dare demi-devils the narcissist

Posses the weakest hearts and spreads their purple portions

The world is their reflection is their only notion

They chop off your thoughts and slice the limbs of truths

These incompetent, malicious brutes

The acceptance of yourself would lead you to heaven

Otherwise wide open are the doors to hell

The ball is in your court, I hope you play well,

HUMMINGBIRD- Gouri Sattigeri Kulkarni

Need be woven, each in rhyme,

Strange bonds, made once in time.

Do as you like,

Sing, dance or run,

Garner all the fun.

For people, dear or not,

Just be, who you are,

Serenely, carry your scar.

For every lie, there is a truth,

For every truth, a lie is spoken,

To mend the relations thus,

Promises need behappen.

For every night, there is a day,

For every day, there is a night.

Though it's on the left,

Heart is always right,

Be a sport and

Face thy fight.

Feelings, need to be said,

Voices, need to be heard,

Busy bee, though each is,

Embrace thy difference,

And be, a hummingbird.

Say what you mean,

Mean what you say.

For when, you are gone,

Let fond memories, forever stay.

Don't you be afraid,

For even if loss is ahead,

With love, as our might,

And beings together, let's tread.

Reason cannot suffice affection,

For every question, there is an answer,

For every answer, there is a question,

Break every prison,

Build your own vision,

Blossom you in sun,

Like many a colours of season!

Like many a colours of season!

Somedays..- Tanbir Kaur

Somedays I think

I'll just perish like dust

who just came in and out,

unknown to the world.

Or I'll just fall into

the layers of oblivion,

down and down, fleeting,

away from the sight of world.

And somedays, I think

It's the fear knocking at my door

Or it's the grueling pit, waiting,

to prison my soul

And will I ever escape,

once I become prey?

Will I ever walk

on the road that I made?

Somedays, I think

about this cacophony

of sirens, going loud,

in the dreamer's land.

Unrealistic seeds sown,

to wear the crown.

Will it ever replenish

to seize the day?

Or will it wither away

in winter's gaze?

And when the day comes,

to test the water,

I hide away,

Afar in the dungeons.

I shield myself,

from hurling stones

and box myself,

into the unknown.

And I think I'll perish to dust

in the grueling pit,

away from the rest.

Kolkata- Sunandita Dasgupta

As the steel waters of the Ganges

Turns darker, slowly and surely

A zephyr raises from the wide heart of the river,

Carrying your name.

Before my eyes, the past and present dissolve into liquid time.

I, a trader in 15th century port of Saptagram,

I, a soldier in the deceptive battle of Plassey,

I, a young boy shouting "Vande Mataram"

I, a refugee desprately

looking for shelter -

Through years and ages and eternity

I still utter your name

The zephyr blows like a love song

Soft words float in the air as cotton flakes do in spring

Find me a home, will you?

food most likely to be burnt- Bhavika Sachan

most of what we call a legacy is an arm

adorned in bangles with a ladle

wrestling coconut and almondette

churning in milk pushing us inwards

backwards anti-clockwise in history

i wake up to sunlit streets and dirty walls

painted red with sweet betel

hoping to love something taste funnel cakes

but to love something also means to surrender yourself to the thought

*this is overstayed sweetness

melting in my mouth *

i love my country the way we slurp garlic tea,

gulping the bitter grief slowly, painfully

sometimes not at all into mashes of aromatic cardamom and tulsi

most of what we call a legacy is

clean streets and diet drinks

way past their expiry an espresso in disposable plastic and

countless brown men eating packed lunches

most nights on metro rides

i watch youtube videos of bland dishes and plating tricks

and lose myself in the triviality of Western

humour,

most likable of a memsaheb

and most nights my country is fire

and my countrymen wood

warming food over sikari and earthen stove

my descendants moved through landscapes

with nothing but hunger and a few tools

and it feels ungrateful to write angry poems

about our democracy but let it be known

that l am tired and drained

emptiness disguised as country colours,

and fake promises

all it takes to lose hold

is to see our leaders fine-dining with our people

and soldiers open fire on protestors, their eyes

dying, brimming with questions

about the hope partaken in one-time meals

and later cleansed with cow urine

most of what we call a legacy is the promise

of erasure our old ones speak of heavens, afterlives

of *amrit* and betrayal

and other forms of transcendence but

not inheritance most of what I want

is most of what we don't have; a kitchen and memories of scents

the recipes of my grandmother

the appetite for family dinners banters over leaf plates

most of what we call

a legacy is misremembrance of delicacies,

feelings and attachments

this is what they call irony

this is what they call food

most likely to be cooked burnt

and thrown away

as a matter of tastes and preferences.

No body no crime - Zeenat Fatima

What I am supposed to do with this dead thing that you left with me?

Am I suppose to cry or let it hang for free?

Are you the supposed culprit who has killed my heart?

Left me with lifeless body; now the phantom has aroused.

It asks me, should I scare you with lofty voices or would you like some good memories?

Perplexed by these questions I let it take another life from me.

I understand my poetic cries must be suffocating you

But this is the only thing that you left with me in this breathless room.

Now, me and this phantom look at each other’s eyes

acknowledges we are the same lifeless bodies killed by your lies

You left us in this bottomless place without any air,

You shred the tapestry of our soul,

Wreaked our innocent hopes,

now you have dug us in this grave and you are roaming in the fresh wave.

Your plan was great, I must say

You committed the crime in front of my eyes every day

Still I let you kill.

Now me and my lifeless love are in this grave where your crime will always be safe

Because as they say, No body no crime.

Dear Baby In My Womb- Madhuri Khunt

You’re my sunshine

You’re my sweetheart

You’re everything I’ve ever wished for

You’re my moonlight

You’re my munchkin

You’re everything I’ve ever prayed for

You’re my stargaze

You’re my sweetie pie

You’re everything I’ve ever asked for

You’re my rainbow

You’re my rockstar

You’re everything I’ve ever imagined of

You’re my dew drops

You’re my darling

You’re everything I could ever dream of

You’re my flower bed

You’re my fairy

You’re everything I’ve ever hoped for

You’re my breezy air

You’re my butterfly

You’re everything I’ve ever wanted

You’re my whole world

You’re my wonder baby

You’re the miracle in creation

God has chosen me for!

तन्हाई - Dinantika Jha

तन्हाई

तन्हाई तन्हाई तन्हाई बस तन्हाई

कोई हो न हो साथ होती है तन्हाई

हर ज़ू खामोशी कायम होती है और महसूस होती है तन्हाई

हर कोशिश नाकाम नज़र आती है

जब दिल में घर कर जाती है तन्हाई

जब दिल परेशान और मजबूर हो

तो ढूंढता है तन्हाई

घेर लेती है किसी के यादों के साये

जब आस पास होती है तन्हाई

नम आंखों से आंसू जब छलक न पाए

तो ढूढ़ती है तनहाई

जब ज़िन्दगी ग़म के अंधेरे में खो जाए

और कोई दोस्त साथ न आए

तो साथ देती है तन्हाई

गर मौथ भी आए तो साथ होती है तन्हाई

तन्हाई तन्हाई तन्हाई बस तनहाई

कोई हो न हो साथ होती है तन्हाई

JOURNEY TO SELF-LOVE- Tanmay Chadha

I was a small boy,

Playing with his toy,

Yet deemed a confusion, a puzzle they said.

The love I embraced, they labelled it sin instead.

My truth, they claimed, mere lust on display,

Greed they accused, casting my love astray.

As a boy, they forced me into a mould,

Saying, "You need fixing, your essence is so impure and bold."

They defined gender,

They defined love,

But my story was absent.

They aimed their words at me,

Yet I couldn't witness two princes set free,

For I was pushed into an abyss, unseen,

My feelings suppressed, and my existence demeaned.

My emotions lay buried at the very core,

A spark ignited when struck by words harsh and sore.

They sneered and giggled, finding my being vile,

Yet their taunts, their laughs, I couldn't reconcile.

For I was just a small boy,

Playing with my toy.

Time passed, clocks ticked, unforgiving,

I buried that part of me, my true self, unforgiving.

Loathing his existence, his very presence,

Convinced it was the devil's persistence, his eternal coexistence.

But they tried again, labelling and defining,

Yet this time, it didn't work, my spirit started shining.

Emotions surged, growing fast and free,

Unable to be contained, breaking through the debris.

It felt like sitting within the eye of a hurricane,

A storm within, yet a rainbow came, untamed.

Unnoticed by my own eyes, hidden by my side,

I grasped the flag of self-acceptance with pride.

Reborn with self-love, I ventured on,

Crushed again, yet with every rebirth, I grew strong.

Amidst agony and scars, I wore a skirt,

Painted my nails, wore earrings, and unapologetically asserted.

To those who said, "You are a man," I replied,

"Yes, I am queer, and in this dress, my identity won't hide."

The stares remained, the reality didn't change,

Yet with time the storm inside me ceased, and my pride arranged.

For now, I embrace that boy,

Who found joy in playing with his toy.