Skip to main content

All alone

Waking kilometers
Was so easy

Walking alone
No more busy

Without a cellphone
Beyond going crazy

It was a summer
Going hazy

No rainfall
Not any call

It was my soul
Wandering alone

Without fear
Walking everywhere

Watching all
Leaving soul

Dried tears
After years

All was like before
Over the sea
Over the shore

It was my soul
Wandering alone....

Written by...
AAKANKSHA MISHRA

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

यादें।

अब इस मन की चौखट पर बस यादों का आना जाना है। आ जाओ एक बार तुम फिर हँसना और गाना है। जिस रस्ते तुम हमें छोड़ गई वो राह यादों की खाटी है। भूली मैं वो खेत कुँए याद अब बस  माटी है। आँसू मेरे पूछ रहे है अब लोरी कौन सुनाएगा। भूखे ही सो जाउंगी नींद में कौन खिलायेगा। क्यों मुझसे तुम रूठी इतना एक बार तो मुड़के देखा होता। ना जाने देती मैं तुझको ज़िद तेरे संग जाना होता। देखो नैना बह रहे है धुल रही हर आशा है। आज दिल के हर कोने में फैली एक निराशा है। Written by:- AAKANKSHA MISHRA

ये जीवन है।

जब पहला क़दम लड़खड़ाया होगा इशारा तो तभी मिल गया था कि यहाँ बिन गिरे कोई नही उठता। जब बिना अर्थ वाले पहले लफ्ज़ मुह से निकले, इशारा तो तब भी मिला कि यहाँ लोग तुम्हे समझ जाएं ये मुमक...

Reading Silence..!

Because, they could not read her eyes , questions, feelings, innocence , loyality and truthfulness.  No one notices the salt in the food until it is "too much". Yes, that was an as usual day for all, with perfect salt in the food too.! (Based of their taste)  But many ups and downs were running in her mind silently.  they were so busy in reading their daily newspaper that they could not spare their time to read her silence. The one who could read that silence, was trying to make readable the new upcoming invited togetherness.. And.... When she wasn't around them; People were around her looking at her. Open eyes still with the question... Why?,  "Why from her" and "why from them" too! and the one who was capable of reading the silence has all the answers on the tip of his tongue.. (uttered or unuttered) Open eyes ! still looking at you ; but can't listen your words now!! After some years,  the man ( reader of silence) is ...