A person who’s definition is quite different than that in a dictionary. Someone who is close to you while being far away. Who looks at you and be a reason for your smile, harboring the purest feelings for you. Someone who doesn’t announce the affection to the world but only to you, makes you feel special in their own way when you’re rejected by the world, who is aware of your little needs and even the reasons of your annoyance, who notices the teeniest change in your tone and go crazy until you be back to normal, who’s priority list never gets amended because of you, who sits and willingly listen to your day’s crap & voluntarily share their energies to cure your grouchiness, who’s care you witness through actions and not just words. That person is a keeper. Keep them close no matter what. Don’t let go of that hand. A keeper can be found in your family, or friend or a partner. Keep those close to your hearts. Give them their due credit. They are irreplaceable.
love
The Mornings
He got up
She started with chores
He brought groceries
She cooked
He made her fav tea
She sips his fav coffee
He got dressed
She sighs the look
He got ready for work
She’s off to start too
She closes eyes and sees him
He closes his eyes and feel her
They did everything together…
While being apart.
A simple Man
Once there was a simple man
Selling his all dreams and plans
“1 balloon for 5”
Today his pocket fairly thrived
Scorching heat accepted defeat
Thinking how could this man cheat.
His body used to dry out everyday
But today….
He’s smiling, he’s happy
Am I losing my edge to desiccate?
Man went along with this thoughts
With all the happy toys he bought
“My daughter will be so excited”
The only scenario he ever sighted.
—
“My daddy is very rich
He gets me all kind of gifts”
Wherein in the parallel universe
a daughter had all her words well-rehearsed.
That 5-year-old knew how took a stand
Shameful comments & bullying one day had to end.
“Your daddy gives gizmos
Mine saves me his precious time.
Your daddy doesn’t know the standard you’re in
My daddy remembers how many ponytails I like”
Pity that you’re poor nor I.
because you only have money
And I have all the wealth in one tough guy“
With those courageous words
she moved far ahead.
As the dusk aiming the limelight
Time came to meet her knight.
—
Wide opened arms dangled over his neck
Her grin too invaluable than any bills or paycheck.
Little fingers started playing with her things
and inquisitive eyes all ready to shoot endless queries.
“We get water only once in our tap
so I saved some water in my bottle for you to have
Isn’t it too hot for you to work, Father?
I’ll never let you work once I’m older“
Innocent goals, her sweet determination
brimming eyes quenches the thirst with her unnerving resolutions
Those 5 sips from her bottle did the magic
Which no gallons of water ever could.
My little hideout nook
The more time I’m spending on blog, the more I feel like sharing little things with my blogger family.
So for today, Commandments from Senior authorities came to clear up space because apparently my these little babies taking too much of it. (really?).
So this was just one corner, have 3 more like these + 1k books in my computer as e-books categorized as per Author’s name which further has been sorted alphabetically + 300 books on my Kindle currently and yet I’m greedy for more.
Like any other avid reader I wish to have my own library so that my all hard bounds are at one place, smiling gaily at me. ? But then there are some orders from your Mother which you just can’t defy. Well, according to her I have to give up some of these because I keep on adding more and more to my hungry shelves ? She perfectly understands my fetish for my casebound friends, so she knows its never going to happen and soon she will be helpless in front of my insatiable appetite.
This is a tradition which is being followed every year. I’m asked rather demanded to clean up all the shelves and with that she means -if you have read the book don’t keep it with you anymore. With that setup in my mind I start my Sunday morning checking each and every book that I have read thinking that this time I will surely take out few so that I can add more to my collection.
The moment my hand touches the first book I reminisce about the time I touched that book for the first time. And It was ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by ‘Jane Austen’. I mean I ask all of you -How on Earth can someone ever get rid of this book?? How?? I mean this was my life’s first romantic novel. Before that I used to read all the thriller and horror stuff & used to think I’ll never get accustomed to romantics. Unlike that notion this novel appeared in front of me and then stayed forever.
I hugged that book so hard and placed on the shelf as it was before. No, I can’t give up this one. Then comes the next, taking it in my hands reminds me of the hilarious events in the book. No not this either. With that, it starts ?
Okay! Next! “Ohh this was a gift. Gifts are not meant to be thrown away.”. Next – ” oh god! it had such great storyline, I might read it again”. Next- “This was the time when I deliberately cancelled on my friends to read it, hahaha lovely memory of this book, can’t give it away”. Next one “I havent read it. It was awarded as a prize to my brother with success motivation stories which of course he didn’t read & eventually landed on my lap. No ungrateful soul can throw away un-read books, can they?”
So, in the end I couldn’t find a single one to give away. Though it’s right to lend books to someone who enjoys reading too so that they would be in safe deserving hands. Seems like I become too selfish when it comes to books but this time I would really try to overcome that fear ?
If any one of you ever experienced the same thing, do share!
P.S. The light appearing at the rear is exactly what books give us- The Wisdom Aura ?
Another ‘Thank You’ note ~~
A simple generous Thank You to everyone who has been there with me on this journey. I started this blog last August, oblivious of the fact whether it’s a good idea or not. I had always enjoyed writing but never ever have I thought of putting my writing stuff on public platform thinking that those were never good enough. I had been thinking this for Years but then one day I just started it without giving any more thoughts. So far it has been delightful, insightful adventure with all the refined souls encouraging me to express openly. It’s because of you all that I able to progress more, became more confident about my writings.
I had never expected that I would receive so much of love and support from you all. You people took out time from your precious lives, gave it to my newbie page and that’s how my little world started growing. I would like to express deep gratitude from the bottom of my heart & thank everyone for your mystical presence and benevolent contribution.
Thanks again! Much love ?
Kanika
Regretful Tuesday ||National Poetry Month
He said he breathes love
I said I devour humans
One swift voracious wanton swallow
And my mind was devoured by his thoughts of love
Ever since that day
I started breathing poetry.
Those eerie affects of Change
I was in fear…
Always feared change.
Until I became someone I was meant to be.
I want to be your HOME!
What is- Home??
A mere place where one resides,
four walls giving you shelter from an unpredictable weather,
few coordinates to dwell yourself in permanently
OR
a place filled with peace & serenity, where you forget the worries and find solace in its arms, the same spot which awaits your return no matter how many ungodly hours it takes.
Home is the private territory in this public world which you boldly & blatantly call your own.
I want to be your HOME.
When you are restless or in distress, feeling anxious or dejected I want you to come back HOME. When you want your soul to be at rest, your heart to feel peace
when you look for that little hope of tranquility in the struggle of appeasing people & their powerful minds, I know you miss home.
It is when you yearn for that strongest desire just to be loved no matter what or who you are.
I want to be the power driving that desire inside you.
You go the distance in search of better survival, to explore or to meet new people – offering them special place in your heart hoping to spend the life you wished but still somewhere, in the tiniest of your thoughts, you miss your HOME.
But that home awaits you patiently because No matter how far you go, no matter how happy or low you feel one always longs to come back home. It’s the only place where one belongs to.
For you when meet hardships or reach at loggerheads and see no path, you then think of that protected shield.
I want to be that shield for you.
There are times when our world gets disintegrated,…. dismantled. Avalanches of dreams, desires coming down and turning into dust.
The worse starts where our own brain starts playing tricks and seeks no one’s help. When we feel totally abandoned and our heart experiences worthless, insubstantial emptiness inside.
I want to take that emptiness to fill it with all warmth and tenderness which can ease your ache.
I want to be the one who can salve your pain.
Like a home, I wait patiently. Always wishing to hear your carefree laughter, the sound of which made my life feel happy &contended.
Amidst those suffering & turbulence in life one ray of hope is needed that can negate the pain afflicted, I want to be that ray of hope. I want to be the person you can call home.
I want to be your HOME!
Word of the Day
While scanning my phone nonchalantly, something caught my attention instantly.
It was word of the day.
busticate- to break into pieces.
Nothing special, the usual notification from another app.
But something in me stirred. I read word by word, slowly. Each syllable felt like it was calling out to something I don’t understand yet feel it.
To. Break. Into. Pieces.
I looked further for a sentence. I never myself knew how to use it properly.
It said “Elephants really busticate trees”.
And I said “Humans really busticate humans”.
What a perfect word to produce to save time of people when they want to say that they are broken into pieces. Or may be people who are broken end up finding unfamiliar inclination towards the phrase ‘broken into pieces’, with the outburst of indignation due to helplessness over the situation.
They are broken. Into pieces. And yet they have the confidence to rise again, love again, and be themselves again. Those are my favorite kind of people.
There was nothing special in the word I read today, however, it felt obligatory to pay respect to all those who went through it, suffered hard, and rose shining brighter than ever before.
Love you all.
And love yourself.
I don’t know if it’s correct or not still-
Don’t busticate because of anyone. You deserve much more.