At night, at the lamppost, we all have seen  the insects/flies, which lives only for a day, but they enjoy every moment of it. Morning, only their wings are found scattered below.
Patanga, Moth, Spark, May flies, it has got many names.On Poetic Friday, writing about her last destination, that’s the lamp post.
Life may be short, but to live every moment of it, is the sign of a happy being.



That was the perfect venue and ambience,
Music slowly tickling every sense,
Dance steps comforting from every tense,
Life was so smooth by his presence.

The moon smiled and she blushed,
The stars blinked and she said I must,
Be the precious memory which can never rust,
The joy swelled like balloon, never to burst.

No words, just the eyes spoke,
Pray let it not be a dream or a joke,
Let all the bubbles of happiness soak,
This was her ultimate and last hope.

The eternal dance was in her favour,
Every act made them more and more closer,
She whispered, let me go where peace ends never,
In his shadow she closed her eyes forever.

No matter, the life shows himself for a day,
Who can claim, forever they will stay,
Morning will witness shedded wings that lay,
Just enjoy every moment, however tough maybe the way!




In my balcony, this small sparrow was a regular visitor, then she came with her soul mate, they made their nest and four small sparrows emerged and ultimately they flew away as destined. The whole act gave me immense pleasure and balm to my soul. Sharing with you on Poetic Friday, my poem KHUSHIYO KE DOOT.

खुशियों के दुत


मेरे छज्जे मे रोज आकर बैठती थी, गौरैया वो नन्ही सी,
भाषा कहते थे हम दिल की, एक रिश्ता बहुत प्यारा सा ।
चाहत उसकी सिफ॔ कुछ दाने चावल के और पानी  थोड़ा सा,
रोज इंतजार रहता मुझे उसका, वो थी मासुम सी, भोली सी ।

एक दिन वो अकेले नही, साथ मे आई अपने साथी के,
प्यारा सा जोड़ा, मै मंत्रमुग्ध हो गई उनके सम्मोहन मे,
घासफुस का वो घोसला, चार अण्डे उसमे जिन्दगी के,
कितना सुंदर सपना, उन्होंने बुन दिया मेरी आंखो मे।


उस दिन सुरज जागा, नन्हे आवाजों के कोलाहल से,
रूह की बोली से, खुशियां दस्तक दे गई मेरे छज्जे मे,
सुधबुध भुल के, सम्भालने लगी मै उन्हें जतन से,
कितने ही नई रोशनी जगमगा उठे, सतरंगी ख्यालो मे।

पहली उड़ान बन गई उनकी, छज्जे के घोसले से अंतिम उड़ान,
आकाश को नापने, अपने मंजिल को छुने चल दिए,  कर सुनसान,
प्रकृति की यह अद्भुत लीला, देती है सबको पैगाम,
यादों को अपने अंदर रमने दो, बनकर सिर्फ मुस्कान ।

गौरैया कई बार बन जाती है जिंदगी की पुरख,
आईने मे देखकर अपनी ही बदलती हुए सुरत,
चुनो उसको जिसे तुम्हारी हो चाह और जरूरत,
खुशियों की होती है कई खूबसूरत सी मुरत।।




Puja mania, puja enthusiasm, puja shopping craze, if you want to see, come to Kolkata now, before Durga Puja.

Happiness is in the air and you will drown yourself in the aroma of self-satisfaction.
As we were talking about this puja craze,  my friend proposed,” If you really want to enjoy this, let’s go to New Market. You can’t imagine how people shop with extra zeal and madness.You will start enjoying the drums in advance, once you reach there.”

I am back to Kolkata after many years. I was still wondering whether to accept her proposal or not, she came up with another tempting one,” I will take you to the best puchka (golgappa) shop there. Once you put the puchka in your mouth, it melts like butter leaving a sweet, sour, hot and exciting taste.”

This temptation was more than enough to inspire me, I immediately said, “Let’s go tomorrow. ” She laughed and said,” I knew, I had hit the arrow at the right place.”

Next day, at New Market, I was puzzled, amazed, in fact excited to see people shop like as if the shops are going to close the next day, forever. All sort of people, of all age group, happy, smiling, bargaining, eating……that positive happy energy started mesmerizing me.

Yeah…sometimes crowd can be a pleasure, sometimes in crowd you are not tired and you start enjoying the pleasure of the freedom of behaving, in your own terms.

Totally engrossed in shopping and hunting all sort of things, we didn’t remember that time was fleeting. Satisfied with the huge packets of goodies, we moved to the puchka shop, to satisfy our gastronomical buds. As we were melting with the pleasure of hogging puchka, I felt someone was saying something from behind. I saw a small boy, pointing towards samosa and asking for one. I told the vendor to give him a samosa, he happily grabbed it and ran away.

Done with our guilt pleasure of overeating,  we planned to go back home. At that time in the corner of the road I saw the same boy, sitting with four more kids, maybe his siblings, all sitting with military like discipline, waiting for the boy to distribute the single samosa among them. I watched them eat the small piece, of their share, blissfully. A sudden urge forced me to turn back to the shop, and get five samosas for them. As I handed it to them, their face suddenly started spreading with hearty happiness. The pleasure to get your desired thing unexpectedly, the joy of satisfaction, made them lift their hand and dance in tapori style. I had witnessed nearly all sorts of dances, but this dance of happiness was beyond comparision.

We had spend thousands of rupees within few hours, but the happiness I saw in their faces by spending only few rupees, was nothing in comparison to it, in fact it was an asset for me.

Back home, I closed my eyes and while recalling their faces I smiled, feeling all my nerves relaxed and calmed. The Puja drums and merrymaking were inside me with the message…….Happiness is contagious, spread it.😊



I believe He is there, keeps on sending constant strength and energy for everyone. Now it is upto us, how we decipher. Some say they are born believer and some say they are non-believer, but does it really matter? God is like Oxygen, you can’t see Him, but you can’t live without Him.
My name suggests the meaning, ‘Seeker of God’, and for me, He is the best listener, healer and comforter. He who kneels before God, can stand before anyone. Today on poetic Friday, serving you my poem, SEEKER.



I sometimes forget to walk,
Standing in the hollow shade, I only talk,
Words melt like the broken pieces of the prison lock,
But I can’t hear them, to my utter shock.

Rain pours with full intensity, making me drench,
I try to recall, what should be my strength,
Somehow I drag myself to the nearest bench,
I forgot to walk, does it make any sense?

Stretching my arms, staring like an insane,
But who will come to me in this heavy rain?
I again use my unheard words, but in vain,
Deep inside something pricks, maybe it’s pain.

Scared of thundering, shivering with fear,
I scream, you are watching, but why don’t you hear,
Get up, don’t drag, walk straight and come near,
You said this firmly, I doubt do you really care?

My ears can’t hear, and now I have lost my voice,
Inside me echoes, the harsh drum and unbearable noice,
You, I want only you, I can’t think of any other choice,
The wavelength between us is the perfect poise.

Hold my hand, be my ultimate guide,
Walk with me in this rain, side by side,
Let me speak only about you, day and night,
Let your flame shine within me, O divine light !!




I looked down from my balcony. Yes it was Ghosh Uncle, who was trying to tell the watchman and one of our neighbour, something. Now it was a routine, since Aunty expired six months back. The loneliness has changed him a lot, he now tries to catch hold of someone, who can spare time, to hear the tales buried deep inside his heart, about Aunty.

In my building on 17th floor, Flat no. 17C, they had weaved their nest with the main ingredient, love. Their love story starts right from the door, where a hand painted wooden name plate adorned the name,
with a very artistic flowery pattern. Below this another extended name plate is attached with his son’s and daughter- in- laws name and sketch of two kids holding hands, with names of their grand children. A very unique one, painted by Chayya Aunty, on request of Uncle.

We friends, use to go for evening walk, then usually chat sitting on the bench near the poolside and wait for the couple to come for a walk, just to see , what aunty is wearing that day. It was a common joke among us that instead of watching the young ladies, latest fasion trends, we wait for this retired old couple in their seventies, to walk on our building ramp. But yes, we could never deny that the best of handloom, cotton or tatth sarees were owned by her. Aunty always gave us the address of the shop, but we never got the same stuff, and Aunty would smile and say that the saree is bought by Uncle with love, so it looks so beautiful. Very light and appropriate matching accessories with the saree, a flower in her bun, she use to deck up for Uncle, as he liked that way.On the other hand, we the bunch of friends, use to take walk wearing the most comfortable plazzos, leggings, pants or pajama with kurties, hair tied in a ponytail at the back, with that bindass, who-cares-to-deck-up attitude.

The small Ganesha Temple in our building compound was managed by them. We use to insist Uncle, a very good singer, to sing and Uncle use to sing looking in Aunty’s eyes,” pal pal dil ke pass tum rehti ho……”, and Aunty use to blush like a teenager first time in love.

Right from a recipe to philosophy of life, we use to look at them for guidance.
Of late, there evening walks were restricted as Aunty was not keeping well. First started with fever, then lots of complication and unexpectedly she passed away six month back.

The very strong and confident uncle started breaking rapidly, the smiling face clouded with gloomy sadness. His supporting and caring family also couldn’t help him overcome his sorrow. And now this new mania overpowered him, he use to wail loudly sittting on the bench, where they use to sit, talk and giggle. His pain touched us all, infact we stopped sitting together after our walk.

Yesterday as I came down, I saw Uncle standing there, he came to me and said,”  You tie your hair nicely, so you can use this. Keep it.” He quickly handed me a hair clip and walked away so that I can’t say anything. Surprised I looked at him and then the hair clip, it was Aunty’s one of the favorite clip. Then I came to know that he was giving away all her visible things. I don’t know what this syndrome is called, but now he was in a stage where her things were haunting him. I came up holding the clip, very disturbed.

Evening as I was telling this to my husband, we could hear him again, wailing like a child, and his son persuading him to come home. My husband said,” Let me go and talk with Pratham(his son) about the anti-depression treatment, which may help Uncle to overcome the pain.” He went down and I sat with something hot flowing from my eyes. I looked up and said,” Aunty you both taught us what is real love, but now it is unfair of you to go up alone. Take him with you, he can’t live without you. Uncle is just a body now, who’s breathing. Please take him with you, make your nest again up there, be with him……”

The song from sony mix,” hamhe tum se pyar kitna yeh hum nahi jante, mager ji nahi sakte tumhare bina…..” made my appeal and tears more prominent.

Everyone says love hurts, but that is not true. Loneliness hurts. Losing someone hurts. Everyone get these things confused with love. Real love doesn’t care about body shape, old age, model looks or wallet size. It only cares about what’s inside.



The life’s journey starts with crying and we all hope that we will go with a smile on our face. The good, the bad, the faults, the virtues, all play hide and seek as we go on. Live with positivity and embrace the happiness, that’s what I am serving this Poetic Friday, as ,” RANGO KA AIANA”.

रंगो का आईना


आज चलो बहने देते है, दफन किए हुए चट्टानो को,
आज सिंचते है अक्ष्रुधारा से, बंजर सी जमीं को।
रंगो से एक अद्भुत खेल खेलते है,
आओ आज दोनो मिल कर रोते हैं।।

तुम मेरे अव्यवस्थित होने की व्यथा सुनाना,
मै सुनाऊं तुम्हारी सुव्यवस्थित कथा सुहावना ।
धीरे -धीरे रंगो को यहां वहां छिड़कते है,
आओ आज दोनो मिल कर रोते नही, कुछ सोचते हैं।।

तुम मेरे दोहराने की दुखद आदत का वण॔न करना,
मै तुम्हारे परिपक्वता की स्तुति चाहती हुं पढ़ना ।
फैले रंगो को आकृति में ढलने देते है,
आओ आज दोनो मिल कर सोचते हुए कुछ गुनगुनाते हैं।।

तुम मेरे अनाड़ीपन का एक सुचि बनाना,
मै तुम्हारे खूबियों की चाहती हुं कविता पिरोना।
रंगो की पहचानी सी मुरत को फिर से गढते है,
आओ आज दोनो मिल कर गुनगुनाते हुए मुस्कुराते है ।।

तुम मेरे असफलताओं के माला के नए फुल चुनना,
मै तुम्हारे कामयाबी की अट्टालिका को चाहती हुं सजाना।
रंगो ने सपनो के विस्मित हकीकत को छलकाए है,
आओ आज दोनो मिल कर मुस्कुराते हुए उसे निहारते है।।

तुम मेरे हाथो की लकीरो के दोषो मे मुझे ढुंढना,
मै तुम्हे अपने तकदीर का ताज बनाकर चाहती हुं पहनना ।
कुचे ने जिसे तैयार किया वह तो हम दोनो जैसा है,
आओ आज दोनो मिल कर उसे निहारते हुए खिलखिलाते है ।।

एक मुस्कान, एक हसीं, एक दिल, एक दिल्लगी,
यही जागीर है मेरी, यही है मेरी  सादगी ।
रंगो मे भिगोकर मैंने खुद को,तुम्हारे रंगो मे रंगा है,
आओ आज दोनो मिल कर खुब खिलखिलाते हैं।।




Mehendi ceremony of Shaila was in full bloom. The arrangements, the music, the food, the ambience…all were perfect. Guests were looking forward for the next day marriage ceremony,  which was expected to be marvellous. 

Shaila, the very beautiful banker, doting daughter of Mrs.and Mr. Mehta, was getting married to handsome and famous CA, Soham.

When Shaila and Soham stood on the dias, Shaila raising her hands to show her mehendi, all cheered for this beautiful, made for each other couple.

Soham was crazy about Shaila’s smile and loved her habit of saying something special in form of puzzle or rhyme.

Soham, one day, asked lovingly,” Do you like me?” This question was obvious because Mr. Mehta had chosen him as his prospective son in law. Shaila smiled and said,” Hey, Mummy-Papa said you are the best,
Let’s think about each other and forget the rest.”

Both laughed at this silly rhyme.
Next morning, the marriage day, ‘Mehta House’ was full of police as Shaila was missing, leaving a clueless letter behind her.
” Mummy-Papa, forgive me as you always do, but I have to go”.
“Soham, you  may feel cheated, but I am really sorry, get a nice life partner and lead a very happy life.”
Don’t search me or blame anyone. No one is responsible for my departure.
“Violet was the colour, but Orange was my choice.
So I preferred to go with absolute White.”

The last lines of the letter became a mystery, all started decoding it in their own way. The police searched the hospitals, bus stands, railway stations, airports, spots of accidents, friends, relatives,…. …everywhere , but in vain.

Days past, the CID took charge of the case and started intrograting everyone separately. No previous affair, no bad habits, no wrong association, no clue for kidnapping, how can she vanish like this??
The clue she left had violet, that represents the future, the imagination and the dreams(that was really going to happen). Orange was her favorite color and white was for peace and calmness.

Mrs. and Mr. Mehta recalled that when Shaila was young, she had a facination to become a monk, but that time they told her, they will die if she thinks so. The chapter was closed.

The friends recalled the day when she topped in the University and won the gold medal. She told her friends'” The best one in the room was me,
So they gave me the medal and the golden key.”
Golden key was the prestigious job offered to her.

Soham was really feeling cheated and down, she could have told him once, he could had solved her problem. He took this monk  facination as a big clue. At his request all the church, monastery were searched, not only in India but in China, Bhutan and all the possible places, but no results. After a year the case was closed
But Soham didn’t give up, he started personally visiting all the monasteries when ever possible. Years rolled on, under pressure of everyone he got married. 

Nearly five years later, as he was sitting in the Buddhist Monastery in China, he saw a group of lady Monks coming for prayer, in them a bald headed monk in white dress looked exactly like Shaila. He put his secret camera on, later in the hotel, he checked the video and concluded, she is definitely Shaila. He had decoded her message correctly, a Monk, she is a Monk now. He sat emotionless, his search was complete but he was unable to decide whether to be happy or sad. How she came here, they had checked the airports also, but she didn’t board any flight, when she got the tickets, why she had chosen the marriage day to elope, he was coming again and again here, why didn’t he see her before, since when she was planning all this, all this questions started screaming inside Soham’s head, the unbearable pain slowly converted into sobs, and he decided to confront her the next day.

Next day he stood in front of her looking straight in her eyes. She asked ,”what do you want my child?”

“I simply want some answer Shaila, you are here at peace, calling me my child, following the path of divine one, but there since last five years we are searching you, your parents are totally broken up, I am wandering like a mad one. Why you did this?”

She calmly replied,”I am not the person whom you are searching, and leave some questions unanswered, time will reply and heal your agonies. God bless you.”

She walked away. Soham screamed, “Shaila turn back, you can’t go like this.”
But no one was there to reply, a vacuum in his heart nearly choked him.

A soft hand on his shoulder bought him back to life, an old monk made him sit and offered some water, and said ,” Child, she is correct, she is not the person you are searching, she is a Monk. But I want you to breathe in and exale peace, so listen, she was planning to join us since long, she didn’t tell because she didn’t wanted to lose her parents, she choose the marriage day as it was her mother’s wish to see her getting married, so she completed half the rituals, one of her friend helped her reach here, gave her shelter, since last five years she didn’t come out in front of strangers, so that you all get time to heal your wounds and you Soham, she knew you are a strong man and you can forgive her and also walk ahead strongly. Go back and don’t tell her parents, let them wait for her. They will surely meet one day up there.”
“You know me?”
“Yes I know everything , God bless you my child. It’s God’s decision, so don’t question it. “.

To the degree that God has not revealed His plan, it is a mystery. But even that which He does reveal is a mystery……