• GUN IN THE CRADLE
    abeer athar | 01-Jul-2018
      and exactly there he was sitting  on the footpath that tribal child in exile and those turquoise blue eyes were like that they carried the whole universe inside his cold hands and colder spine shows he belonged to a paradise but was left over in this disguise and his blonde curls holding the unanswered question for this world and that amateur soul seemed to be quite unpacified those hands of an angel were bruised  those little fingers blocked his ears as if he was hiding from his fears his face indulged with innocence his eyes silently shouting for help and that poignant heart that was too young to hate but too terrified to love but what made me curious was that lad who is supposed to be afraid of dark laid motionless suspecious with that blood and those marks and all over him blood was spitting out and lying next to him was an army of dead bodies and their bodies sprinkled blood out as if they were dead from an hour or about and then the blast was heard but till
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  • Himanshu Manna | 20-Jun-2018
    The apple I endeavor now, Was once on my fruit bowl... But now has slipped from my hand, And gone to the darkness of no reach....
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  • Ghost Memories
    Ankita Kulkarni | 18-Jun-2018
    They lurk Like the red eyed monsters At the back of our minds Ready to cast a shadow Like a grey cloud Of fear and doubt They are the ghosts Lurking in the attics Of our minds Born through the power Of bad experiences and mistrust Ready to taint The happy memories With their darkness To make you fear Their very existence To never allow you To enjoy the good Withough felling their shadows Cast upon your mind Why, O Why Can you not disappear In a whisp of smoke Allowing me to bask In the true happiness Of my new memories Why, O Why Won't you allow me To forget the darkness That tries To rear its head Every time I wish To make new memories Why, O Why Must you drive me To words and acts That I will regret From time to time For I know that memories Are the true ghosts Of our lives
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  • PayalAgrawal | 13-Jun-2018
    Why this silence comes in every night,Why this dream comes in every night,I know I can’t do anything,I am just a useless thing,Then why this dream comes in every night. -Payal Agrawal
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  • That falling star
    Abhishek Mishra | 27-May-2018
    "There was a certain tranquility in that free-fall of that shooting star; Almost, as if she wanted me to wish for you  to come back, to put the broken pieces together, one more time.
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  • Surrender
    Abhishek Mishra | 27-May-2018
    Those glaring stars of the night, Those reluctant sighs of the immense sky That entourage of those tides Resting along the shoreline, We impressions of a tale, Imploring for inception, with the missing protagonist - one who made, that walk indelible, from the evening, that was drafted on white fabric, of my heart, yesterday  
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  • Akshay Patil | 18-Apr-2018
    From the last bench in the corner,My eyes kept on...looking at her 👀 Every time she turned around,My heart beat increased its sound ! The sound synced our way to love,Keeping the fragrance as fresh as clove ! Years passed by, one thing led to another,Her heart soured, when she couldn't become a mother ! Solved the puzzle, by adopting a kid,which was merrier;Loosing them both accidentally, was series of sorrow in fourier !
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  • Diyaa | 14-Apr-2018
    Poems
    » Long
    since we are celebrating national siblings day here.. it bought me back to a piece i had written about my little brother....    Straight from my heart I write you a little poetry In simple and thoughtful words Carefully compiled for you my baby!   I can never forget those days When you took up all the beatings, And my share too, Not too late you took your revenge This time you left a permanent scar And made my pinky nose blue!   There were times you embarrassed me By getting naughty in your class I would be called by your teachers often For being your older sister And without me knowing they would never let it pass   The saddest moments in my life Were also given by you, When you ran on the street after a ball And got hit by car For the first time I realized what it would be like to lose you   The phase when you grew older and mature You gave me the best advices Even so far as to choosing my life partner Because you wanted to see me in safer hands for
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  • The Real Win!!
    Digvita Shah | 07-Apr-2018
    It's not about being a stealer or robber, but about earning someone!! It's not about being a beggar, but about affording and being worthy of someone!! It's not about being a refugee to feelings, but about standing by it!! It's not about being comparative, but about being a valuable contender!! It's not about being an option, but about being someone's final choice!!
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  • The Blue Car!
    CarrieBradshaw | 04-Apr-2018
    It was a beautiful Saturday, When I first met this pretty boy, I was the morning cliché, He was agog and full of joy.   I kept fazing from afar, My cheeks turning blush, Soon he left in his blue car, I stood there, feeling the happy gush.   I was amazed at my emotions, A stranger just made my day? My insides in total commotion, How did I go from Duh! to YAY?   We rendezvoused more frequent, And each time, I’d be happier than before, Our relationship came to cement, But me; Insatiable evermore.   I quickly run up to my window, Each time I hear a car pass by, It ain’t him, I hope it were though, And I stand there, gazing into the sky.   My heart skips a beat, A blue car each time I see, I can’t help but peep at the seat, Hoping to see my bundle of glee.   He is my happiness ka pitara, My 4 year old amigo, Meri aankho ka taara, Who can instantly make me glow.
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  • Bhumika Chavda | 23-Mar-2018
    Let's talk of friendship again; Let's talk of that trust again, Let's talk of what was left unsaid, Of what we wished we should have said, Of everything that remained incomplete like an open wound in this polluted air; Let's talk of that elixir that would heal what was left unattended, Of the abruption that came. May be someday you'll gather the courage to see what went wrong, Of that ego which came along. But till then, There would be no point of talking of that friendship again, Of talking of that trust again. So let's leave it at this, Where everything is open, everything unattended, Because we will never be friends again,  And I'll never trust again.     
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  • Mitali Bapat | 14-Mar-2018
    Poems
    » Long
    In moments of quiet solitudeshe pondered, oft aloud,reminiscing about a brighter time,the dazzling lights, an awestruck crowd About those several years and morethat she had given her soul and heart,surrendering all she ever hadto her life's pursuit, her art How vibrant her youth had been,before a shadow age had castand the dancer that she once washad become a memory of the past Now her tranquil eyes concealedremembrance of the bygone yearsletting go of the mask only whenthey welled with those tell-tale tears The once strong and elegant framewas now feeble and fragilebut the wrinkled countenance could not hidethe radiance of an eternal smile Then one day, she heard yet againthe cadence of that familiar beatthe sound that had at one time beenthe language of her adept feet Slowly she rose in submissionknowing this was her only chanceand performed for the very last timewhat became her final dance.
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  • Her
    Her
    Rucha Bindu | 08-Mar-2018
    She loved fashion, but in her own fashion. She didn't believe in tight pants But in baggy night pants. She didn't admire light and glamour, But quick wit and humour. Because all the things that touched her heart Had nothing to do with looks. She loved the fragrance of wild flowers And that of old books.
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  • Panchi poems
    Govind Hersal | 07-Mar-2018
    Kyun tum itna yaad aate ho  Kyun aankhe nam kar jaate ho  Kyun alfaaz roj naye de jaate ho  Kyun sawaal baaki chod jaate ho 
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  • Govind Hersal | 07-Mar-2018
    मेरे हानियां तुम बस मेरी  कहानियों में सिमट गए हो ।
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  • The Chance
    Rucha Bindu | 07-Feb-2018
    Poems
    » Long
    There she was, dressed immaculately, unvaryingly seated in the first row With trembling, old fingers holding her favourite pen touching a blank page of her illegible manuscript. A man with the badge gave her a familiar glance but little did she know; Because only when the bibliophile’s ears caught the words of the maiden poetry, her eyes she would lift.   In turn with the other they recited poems, verses and tales; Of joy and of pain, Of mislay and of gain. They divulged dreams, ambitions, love and magic By rhyming words, which they thought was the only logic. While the boys spoke of love and loss, The girls spoke about why the society needs a female boss. She smiled and she sobbed, as demanded by the words on the stage; Her eyes shone with admiration for the courage shown by their young age.   “Any more verses?”, asked the young man with the badge. His eyes beholding the reticent, and this time she did know; Her hands now shivered with agitation as she headed for
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