Category Archives: Poetry

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

Only as a woman in love

I have secrets to disclose to you
I have riddles to be solved in you
I have tunes to be played for you
Poems to be read out loud
Prayers to be said
Bells to be rung
And a life to be lived with you!

My soul is ready,
It has been so since the day
It was whispered of its essence!

My heart, though bleeding,
Is also ready
It yearns to be cupped in your hands
And to be kissed with the passion
Of a gentleman in love!

My body, bloomed,
Is pining,
As would the empty seashore be
On a full moon night!

I have eternity to show to you
I shall breathe it out
Only if you would give me the opportunity to!

I have been trying
I have been trying as hard as toddlers do
When they scream for toys
I have been trying as hard as a woman in love would
Should you not pay heed,
Know that I shall crumble under the burden
Of the curse that my fate would become!

Tear, Tore, Torn !

Tear , tore , torn ! 

mind and soul worn

out of slush ,

greed envy jealousy 

pricking thorns ,

floods of filth 

decrepit thoughts , 

Bear , Bore , Borne !

flesh and bones 

wriggle in thick skin ,

sentiments hauled

systematically mauled ,

material world 

emotions baulk ,

Wear , Wore , Worn !

green pastures gone 

blue skies burn 

red flare of emissions 

life’s dismissal 

distress disaster 

where is the Master ? 

Burn , Burned , Burnt ?

we all mourn

happily destroyed ,

water air earth

everwhere denied ,  

icebergs melt

flown with floods 

Go , Went , Gone !!! 

© Dr. Swati A Gadgil , All Rights Reserved .

Play an eternity

Come …
Come stealthily
Into the painful crevices
Of my wanton heart
Here, I am done away –
A war with myself

Play you by
The longest tune ever
To gauge me weightless
The soul of my bidden love
And keep me guessing –
The trudge of my worn-out feet

Come …
Come resurrected
On a heap of my pyre
Shrugging off my wrongful deeds
And play an eternity
Beyond the bounds of life and death



Never go away
In you lies my entire life
Its ups and downs
Its beauty and glamour
And all that i loved and relished
Over the years

Let me go down
The memory lane
To my early childhood
To feel the warmth of relationships
Mother’s touch and father’s love
Teacher’s concern and sister’s affection
And the carefree life
Lead in the scenic beauty of nature

Take me
To the glorious days of youth
Colourful and fascinating
To feel the nicest of relationships
I have ever had
And the drive and motivation
With which I worked

Just hang on a bit
For i die to see once more
That beauty under the veil
And feel those most fulfilling moments
That made my life sheer poetry
On earth

The Moment
Stay a while
I am to see life once again
Give me a bit of you
I know the next is not mine

copyright@smrutiranjan 4.8.2015

Poverty hits you right there!

An innocent face,            


Scattered hairs.

A torned school bag,

Mismatched, large-sized,

School uniform.

Chappals complimenting,

The entire dress.

A ten hours ordeal,

For the young poor kids.

A four and a half hour school,

The rest spent on travelling.

No food.

No gadgets.

Hardly twenty rupees in pocket.

All alone in this,

Big, damn world.

But the emotions,

The happiness,

The energy,

The faith,

Is higher than the blessed,

Well-dressed human beings.

People need to learn a lot from them.

God bless these,

Fantastic souls.

Who keep going,

Even when everything,

Works against them.

And they have been,

Cursed by,

Human’s biggest enemy-Poverty.  

*Note-Chappals (Cheap Shoes)

With Good Intentions

Tears welled in his eyes,
his breast filled with relief,
another young life saved;
his surgical skills
again exonerated,
despite the excruciating cramp
around his fingers and
stiffness in his joints;
Master Surgeon still after
all these very long years,
shuffling down the corridor
eyes wearied by concentration,
flickering billowing gaslight
making it seem darker still;
He had saved a very precious
young life, that knowledge lit
his footsteps the way out,
out into the daylight;
A great doctor who had
fretted and performed
near surgical miracles,
now face to face
with the anxious mother,
“ Is He..? ”
“ He is fine,there are no complications ”
“ when he fell ill,I thought he might die ”
“ no worries now,I’m sure your son will
enjoy a long and happy life ”
“ Thank you Herr Doktor ”
“ Good day, Frau Hitler,”


Women have something in them ;
Are they defiant, a man lets out “No ‘
They are thrifty; a man goes along with,
A delicacy in the taut veins;
reticence on the countenance ;
Who announces? a man
They don’t learn by ear,
They don’t utter,
They plainly cherish ;
Dreams seeping through
the forlorn veins, unsound and clear, conjuring up devotion and life solacing their every whiff of being,
They serve when they are asked for something,
They cooperate when they are asked
They never requite, when they are reprimanded ;

Their journey is terrible,
Their body languidly becomes tainted
in the defiled troughs, but they
never vex their inheritance ;
Their life is powerful,
Their dissertation is influential
Their love is unequivocal
Who responds? a man
Yet he hegemonizes the

The woman, bearer of all
Pains, impediments, wretchedness.
Such is the woman,
She as a daughter cares for her father
She as a sister admires
the brother
She as a wife appreciates the husband
She as a mother loves all;
Extensive love through the transparent reflectors, murk chunks, insulated realities of life.

They do, what a man can’t do,
And a wave of grief,
she invariably holds deep in the remote cliffs of her heart ;

Hey man, spend a day like a
And brook when words like a stiletto perforate your heart so intensely,
and then don’t moan, stay soundless,
It is just a start,

And when your heart whisks
fast upon doing something erroneous,
then don’t screech, stay soundless,
It is just a start,

And when in the medial night
you’ll b asked to fetch a glass
of water, then don’t sob,
it is just a start,

And when, while giving birth to a baby, upon enduring the labor pain, don’t roar,
it is just a start.

Hunch of Determination

He stood like a cactus
in an oasis of his dreams
Mirage it seemed
as and when he looked up
at the desert end

Whence his rosary
will be counted
he was bounded by his fate, and
Sand storm taking a plunge on him

He took a hunch
of determination
on his broad shoulders
pawing his feet, desert soft; unknown
as to why, he is fixing his gaze upward