Category Archives: Poetry

The place for all your poetry to be shared with the world


Who am I?
A single drop
whose voice echoes
in the depth of the ocean
trembling with each passing wave
hoping to settle
at the end of the shore.

Who am I?
A ray
of the shining sun
spreading its warmth
creating an aura
that shines on the undone
with its alluring touch.

Who am I?
A petal
of a hibiscus or may be
a lily, that adorns the sweetness
into its cluster
of colours and fragrances
spreading all into the air.

Who am I?
A moving cloud
that carries with it
the sadness and pain
adding colours of sheer bliss
moving the heaviness of the heart
gathering the power within.

Who am I?
A dreamer
who dreams, paving the way
of soaring high, reaching the stars
overcoming my nightmares
chasing for a beautiful tomorrow
of happiness and benignity.

Who am I?
A mere puppet
of the mind and the heart
pretending to be more aware, yet
confused and wavering
trying to follow what heart says
overpowered by the sordid mind.

Who am I?

~Mehak Varun

The Cottage,et al

The Cottage

The lush green valley

The solitary hamlet

Spoke a sad past tale



Brought a smile on my sad face

With glimpses of mum’s smile

 Boredom to passion

Boredom led to books,

Brilliant ideas soon unfurled,

Passion it became.

Waiting in Vain

Waited for love’s bloom

Pined, wept, fretted, despaired,

Frost set in cruelly.

Miles to go

Miles and miles to go,

Less time, health, inspiration, 

But, endurance reigns.


Gasping for breath in New Delhi,you try to laugh
At your sneeze trapped in a snapshot
In someone else’s gilded wedding album:

The couple grinning from ear to ear,as if they had
Won the lottery by mistake
Are now emotionally detached,in different cities,

Leading interesting lives with invisible lovers,
Their children inhaling the fresh air of Ooty–
We keep running into each other,uninsured,

At strange places like this monument to the unknown garbage:
Are we waiting for our favourite God to wake up
Or worse,for the final,expensive, diagnosis?

Your smile smooths out the wrinkles from my face,
What you see is a part of you in me:
I wait for words while the wind holds its breath.

The Wind

The Wind

Wind is the one who can bring back
The years rolled in one’s prime,
No other thing can do but wind.
Each single year we’ve seen feels us back
T’is merely the wind of that particular wind
That felt we in our prime.
Whether the sweet jargonig of birds
That makes the heavens mute,
Or the singing monsoon rains
That inspire the buds to dance
And quench the earth’s ears thirst,
No other thing can do but wind.

Wind is a hope for a dying one,
For him who has forsaken all his will,
For him who is drowning in the water
Would any blade of grass may save his life.
Wind perches in nests, in earth’s womb
For seeds to grow, and in firmament
That the clouds will melt on to us,
In fire that blows its flames sharp
And in waters, to let it go forth
On the voyages of new land shores.

My Friend!


My friend!
thousand miles away you are
on the other side of the boundary
yet so near
so close to my heart
so close to me
my happiness and sorrow
in the soul of my soul
in the pupil of my eyes
in the string of my heart

I have not seen you
i have not heard you
i do not know
if ever i will meet you
but my heart throbs for you
my ears crave for you
my eyes dance in joy
to have a glimpse of yours
as if you are someone very close
very special
a part of me and my soul

In moments of stress
i find you by my side
lovingly smiling and consoling me
teaching me the lessons of life
its beauties and intricacies
and the ways to live and love it

My friend!
when i do not see you
do not find you in your pages
i feel so horrible
my days become so incomplete
nights so noisy
you can not imagine
you do not know what you mean to me
you are one of my worthiest possessions
your friendship
my biggest accomplishment
without which just a beggar i am
begging for an iota of love and concern
so rare here

My friend!
where ever you are
be happy
be always for others
like a pillar of support
shining and inspiring
and spreading the language of love
and brotherhood everywhere

copyright@smrutiranjan 24.1.2017

Excerpts from a Conversation

Who are you again?

Oh,that’s right!

yes,I remember now;



erm,no,you’re thinking about someone else,

no,he was there round about the same time,

yeah,that’s right,

and you?

cancer of the bowel? wow!

no,I..I’m sorry to hear that?

Me? oh coming up to 30 years..

Department of Work and Pensions,Benefits,

erm,well no,not particularly

I can’t remember ever sanctioning anyone suffering from cancer;

Tens of thousands? really?

that’s just shocking!

Yeah, I am a Union member..

Oh,I don’t know..

anyhow,nice catching up with you..

see you around again sometime?

Train in the Tunnel

When the train crossed the bridge
I jumped near the window
The diamond filled water
moved on the other side
The platform appeared
And moved quickly away,
Then it was calm
I rest my chin on the cold
window railings with a grin
After sometime
The train whistled it’s way
Into the darkness
Stillness engulfed me
Then the tunnel end appeared
I was thrilled and excited
I then saw in the distance
A hill with a slope
And on the slope
There was a small hut of hope
Made up of wood and hay
And there I can see the fire
Appearing through the
Darkness like shining star
The train begin to pass
The hill begin to disappear
I turned my neck with wonder
Who is the family in the house
Who would sit and eat
In that simple house
As the fog covers the
Hill for a cold night.

Warm touch

It is winter season

Ceiling fan looks
Freezing eyes –
All round the four walls of a house

I missed
A summer voice that evening –
that with a longer tongue
Drew a thirst
Looking at a glass of cold water

No more remembrance
It was more than silence
Hawking my inner space

What I gained
Through a begging voice
Cost my past season
Never to return

This winter only
A year back
I lost a warm touch of my mother