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1This collection is a reflection of everything that stirs the soul - moments, thoughts, emotions. everything. From the quiet wonders of nature to the day to day activities of human life, these poems explore a world without boundaries, where each verse captures a fleeting thought or a deep feeling.
Things I wrote in lockdown
The First Gaze -
Beneath the banyan’s shadowed grace,
He stood, a heart unmarked by time,
With nervous eyes and steady breath,
Waiting for the bell’s soft chime.
The market hums with spice and heat,
A thousand voices in the air,
But none can match the thrum inside -
The moment she will soon be there.
Her anklets sang a quiet tune,
As rangoli beneath her feet,
In saris rich with twilight hues,
She moved like rivers, soft and sweet.
Her laughter, like the monsoon breeze,
Kissed his soul, and made him whole.
A glance - then silence, soft and deep -
Two hearts adrift in the same pool.
He saw the temples in her eyes,
And felt the sacredness in touch,
Her fingers brushed against his own
A promise, yet untouched by much.
He spoke in words half-formed, unsure,
Her voice a song he’d never learned,
In starlit skies, their stories met -
Two strangers whose fates soon returned.
With each breath, the world grew small,
As Ganges waters flowed between,
In that first glance, he knew the truth -
Love wasn’t something he had seen,
But something that would bloom inside,
Like jasmine on a summer night,
A quiet prayer, a gentle wish,
A love that felt like morning light.
- ©Anushka. 2024.
The Fleeting Warmth
A cup of tea, too hot to drink, but we hold it close anyway -feeling the warmth seep into our fingers. The steam rises, twisting and dancing in the air like some forgotten dream. We try to catch it with our eyes, but it slips away, evaporating into nothingness before we can really grasp it.
There’s something about moments like these .... small, quiet, easily overlooked ... that feel like they carry the weight of everything unsaid. Like the way sunlight lingers in the corners of a room in the late afternoon, soft and golden, or how a breeze can stir the leaves just enough to remind you that the world is always moving, even when you're standing still.
But then, before you know it, the tea cools, the sun sets, the breeze fades. And we’re left with only the memory of it ... fading, slipping through our fingers like that steam, never quite the same as it was in that brief, perfect instant.
Maybe that’s why we cling to these little moments, these ordinary things. Because they remind us that we were here, once, feeling something real. Just for a while.
And then, it’s gone.
- ©Anushka.2024.
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