They were leaving, without leaving!


Every breeze warm,
pinched while it warned.
“Don’t turn”
for one it whispered!
“Don’t return”
to the other it said!

They were those guest waves,
lately had realised!
Who with every downfall,
should have to meet.
Raising each other high,
must have to leave!

Those brave hearts they were,
disturbed by their destiny.
Yet won’t disturb the destined,
accepting it all, completely!

There were moments,
of course!
As music filled the sky,
silence crept in!

And they were leaving,
Without leaving!

To all the diverted souls!


Your parents are your creators, naturally expecting alot from their creation. Today during the nights you might care less and not wish to stay. Ever thought to let you into this world, she beared all the pain, also had sleepless nights! Cycling the stress wheels on the other side is a man who keeps working hard for you! If you’re living according to your choices, don’t you forget you are being loved deep within too.
If you can’t always keep them happy, make them proud atleast.

In the middle of a night, you often wakeup expecting a presence. Just how she awaits your return every evening. She supports you throughout your entire life. With her by your side you won’t be standing alone against the world. A part of you may grow within her someday, let your love grow too each day.
She is your soulmate! Love her because you should, that’s all you can give her.

Don’t you forget you are loved too.
Often you run behind the attractions around you, so stay loyal to the ones who love you. Unlike cheating and disappointing, getting someone to love you unconditionally is difficult and rare!
Your heart is your home
One day, you may return with hopes Don’t be late to spot it empty!

A Notebook of Yesterday ❤


She kept questioning before her pen touched paper,
he kept excusing so she left with an answer.
Few letters of this spring and a notebook of yesterday,
she flipped till she found, her two lined essay!

While hiding them away with shear pain,
she caressed every word of that scattered lane.
It aint the last hinted the cover,
write to begin again, write till the end is over!

Fresh pages smelled  good and awaited a new story,
she smiled back to thank him for the gift of his glory.
The pages are words-worthy when she thought,
placed each letter carefully then, consuming his drought!