Borges Says

If I could live again my life,

In the next -
I'll try,
to make more mistakes,
I won't try to be so perfect,
I'll be more relaxed...
I'll take fewer things seriously..
I'll take more risks,
I'll take more trips,
I'll watch more sunsets,

I'll climb more mountains,
I'll swim more rivers,
I'll go to more places I've never been
I'll eat more ice ...

I'll have more real problems and less imaginary ones

If I could live again
I will travel light

If I could live again
I'll try to work bare feet at the beginning of spring till the end of autumn,
I'll watch more sunrises ...
If I have the life to live. 

Picture Source

Pablo Neruda - I Like For You To Be Still

I like for you to be still
it is as though you are absent
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not touch you
it seems as though your eyes had flown away
And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth
As all things are filled with my soul
You emerge from the things
Filled with my soul
You are like my soul
A butterfly of dream
And you are like the word: Melancholy

I like for you to be still
And you seem far away
it sounds as though you are lamenting
A butterfly cooing like a dove
And you hear me from far away
And my voice does not reach you
Let me come to be still in your silence
And let me talk to you with your silence
That is bright as a lamp
Simple, as a ring
You are like the night
With its stillness and constellations
Your silence is that of a star
As remote and candid

I like for you to be still
it is as though you are absent
Distant and full of sorrow
So you would've died
One word then, One smile is enough
And I’m happy;
Happy that it's not true. 

- Pablo Neruda

Note: I have tried to recite this piece here at soundcloud.  

I Wanted Only A Little by Jane Hirshfield

I wanted, I thought, only a little,

two teaspoons of silence—

one for sugar,

one for stirring the wetness.

No.

I wanted a Cairo of silence,

a Kyoto.

In every hanging garden

mosses and waters.

The directions of silence:

north, west, south, past, future.

It comes through any window

one inch open,

like rain driven sideways.

Grief shifts,

as a grazing horse does,

one leg to the other.

But a horse sleeping

sleeps with all legs locked. 

— Jane Hirshfield 

Unending Love - A Poem By Rabindranath Tagore

I seem to have loved you in numberless forms, numberless times...
In life after life, in age after age, forever.
My spellbound heart has made and remade the necklace of songs,
That you take as a gift, wear round your neck in your many forms,
In life after life, in age after age, forever.

Whenever I hear old chronicles of love, it's age old pain,
It's ancient tale of being apart or together.
As I stare on and on into the past, in the end you emerge,
Clad in the light of a pole-star, piercing the darkness of time.
You become an image of what is remembered forever.

You and I have floated here on the stream that brings from the fount.
At the heart of time, love of one for another.
We have played along side millions of lovers,
Shared in the same shy sweetness of meeting,
the distressful tears of farewell,
Old love but in shapes that renew and renew forever.

Today it is heaped at your feet, it has found its end in you
The love of all man's days both past and forever:
Universal joy, universal sorrow, universal life.
The memories of all loves merging with this one love of ours -
And the songs of every poet past and forever. 

RUN AWAY FROM...?

I am running away..

Running from the expressions hurting me most,

Running from the noises drilling my nerves,

Running from the shadows of secure life

Running from the stillness of embellished words

On that path I picked…The scattered pieces of my thoughts,

I tried to connect the beats—of every past moment

And after making a perfect picture,

I destructed that image simultaneously.

Is it so hard to rekindle the one—I lost once?

If you could find me somewhere…somehow

Will you return me—the real me?

Meanwhile,

I am running away from myself

I am running towards myself. 

- Ankita Chauhan 

BIRD SONG - A Poem

And that morning

She leaned towards the gentler winds

Opened her clenching fists— maybe her trimmed feathers

And put a tiny step into realm of faith. 

Though tiny hesitation dangling on her breezy hopes,

 Yet she was craving for pain— Confronting with real ‘She’.

As the sun appeared,

She engulfed that numbness —with her opening arms

With a deep breath— she felt lighter

Floating like a feather,

Somewhere —gorgeously painted skin of nature

Helped her to conquer her world again,

With a new beginning —sailing with a new song.

- Ankita Chauhan 

I often Visit : A Poem

There is a place I often visit.

A place surrounded by empty stairs,

Filled with drops of reminiscence,

Just like that shimmering nose pin on her face. 

I felt a sharp pain

Whenever I sensed her touch,

Her glance… her curves.

The fragments of her voice

Floating on the turquoise surface of water,

Making me yearned for her,

While she is too far to return.

The comfort

I found around this oasis,

She might have instilled herself.

Perhaps she already knew conspiracy of

Our  fate, the dice game of death.

The place echoed with her glimpses, I often visit.

- Ankita Chauhan 

A SENTENCE : A Short Story

Lying on the grass

She reached at the point where

She could measure the horizon of limitless sky

With her small fingers

She smelt scented roots of earth

And heard the curling voices

She fetched the blades of grass into her fist

And felt the softness of nature

She absorbed the murmur of dawn

And wrapped the silence of winds closer to her heart

When her father ordered her to be devoid of tech world

…For a while

Something born in those moments that

Turned her alive!

- Ankita Chauhan 

Anklet, Heena and A Fear - A Poem

Jingling of my anklets reached to your heart,

You run towards me and encircled my soul into your warmth,

Words dissolved into wetness, twinkled into our eyes,

A heart-storming silence caught us still,

You glanced at my heena dyed footsteps,

And a smile emerged from your lips to mine,

We shared those thrilling breathes,

A moment,

'And definition of our relationship would change its dimensions?'

There was fear in my eyes, quenching to survive on a belief

You whispered

'This knot wouldn’t change my love for you, not a bit.'

And you sealed my trembling eyelids with your lips.

    

- Ankita Chauhan 

Solitary Flight - A Thought

Source

A teardrop trickled down 

his fragile feathers 

while watching them to fly. 

One by one 

all the heavenly bodies 

left the nest 

but the fluffy one. 

He too tried to spread wings, 

Limped, crumpled, 

tried again 

But those undeveloped muscles 

weighed him down. 

He understood 

He has to wait 

As nature wants to embrace his 

Solitary flight. 

- Ankita Chauhan

ARTIST - A Note

The day 

she was being left 

amidst howling of emptiness. 

Destruction occurred to her.

Her wrecked soul flooded, 

suffocated from remembrance. 

She stretched her crafty realm. 

She didn’t even know 

if it existed before. 

She arrested into unknown, 

captured few isolated moments for herself and 

transformed her every tear into verse. 

People call her artist.

- Ankita Chauhan

Love In Small Letters - A Note

Strangers come into our life with 

An option of certainty. 

Love wouldn’t be enough, 

No matter how much we exhausted from it.  

Their small gestures, tiny talks and 

Kindness saved our life for a while. 

Although we know 

We can’t reserve them forever, 

Still their silhouette outlast in us 

Till eternity. 

Little things matter. 

- Ankita Chauhan 

Float - A Short Story

And that day
I was freed from the thread of affection, 

I began to float in the nothingness, 

just like a gentle bird’s quill. 

All the —maybe, maybe not— suspended. 

The fear of separation ripped apart. 

An impulse of love folded, 

comforting gaze lost its essence.

The day when he sternly uttered 

'I need space.' 

- Ankita Chauhan 

#55wordstory is an initiative taken by Vivekisms  

You Never Call - A Short Story

Pic Credit : Google 

I caught myself
constantly calling you
in the past nights, and
you never called back. 

I wanted to envelop
into warmth of your voice. 

Is there some alternate
of your loved one’s mouthpiece? 

This darkness engulfed me
in night, like a hell.  

Does network properly
work after death?

A long phone call is
awaited.

- Ankita Chauhan 

Hidden - A Poem

Photo Credit : Google 

Just a crumpled paper, 

Inked with few words, 

She put it 

Close to her rib-cage 

And struggled with 

Entanglements, ‘

'These Y-generation kids 

would never able to decipher 

Handwritten letters’. 

She glared at wet paper again 

Whispering name, 

Sense of belonging, 

Warmth of memories and 

Hidden promises—  

touched 

her misty eyes. 

‘Email? 

Mere cold love. 

- Ankita Chauhan

Cocktail - A Poem

A dimly-lit room 

And she slipped into her cozy bed 

With her only companion, 

A book.

A glowing lamp besides her bed, 

Sheltering the verses of her 

Favorite poetry 

Word by word

And prominent strings of 

Sarod were melting in her ears.

She too might be enjoying 

Cocktail, 

of her kind, 

Like everyone else. 

- Ankita Chauhan 

What Matters Most - A Poem

A withered kid aches for her mother’s hand,

And flower smiles while butterfly sucking its nectar.

Silvery moon romancing with hazy clouds,

And fluttering birds kissing the last rays of sunset

In winters, dew pleasing the leaves intensely,

And water-pearls swinging on the twigs across rainfall.

Bare impressions, roaring waves,

And Lost sea-shells, yet to be discovered.

It is so relieved to feel a stranger,

Her contour with pauses — bit by bit.

Behind my lens,

Thousand poems floating in this world

I’m afraid if,

You would notice the essence of life,

Since you’re still —

Pondering upon my missing fingers!

  

Frame 41

Web of Love : A Poem

An alertness of dark and silent night,

She sensed the glimmer of images,

Hidden in the scent of dampened pages and

Her determination to undrape

The preface of veiled voices,

She closed her eyes and envisaged the reflections,

Expressions, and kaleidoscope of echoes,

Suddenly a spinning figure

Trapped in her constellation of silence,

It came with a promise that

She has to empty her heart, first!

She did so, Struggling with each falling teardrop,

Those past interactions flashed in her dusky eyes.

It’s time to light up the candle and,

Burn that paper, his lurid web of love!

One Frame Stories

Book Review : Autumn Moon by Gulzar

Title: Autumn Moon

Author: Gulzar

Translated By: J.P Das

Publisher: Rupa Pulications India.

Genre: Poetry

Pages: 108

Source: Kindle edition

Rating: 5/5

The Gulzar (Saab), name has been speaking for itself since decades. He is legendary lyricist, film maker and what stands him out that he is all time poet.

“Poetry has and always will remain my 'real' passion. It is in poetry that I find true meaning which urges me on through some turbulent moments in life. Poetry is my life line. The most exciting moments in my life, even more than the release of my films, have been when I have seen my poetry in print. ” Says Gulzar

Photo Credit : Google

When I got the chance to read his book “Autumn Moon” I was literally on the moon while enjoying his nazms or poems. I was in sense of wonder how could someone write so mesmerizingly. Although reading him in our language, hindi is a real charm. But when you pick this book which is translated by JP Da , a doyen of Oriya poetry and one of the very few 'true' poets on the scene today, you are being left with awe. 

Gulzar’s poetry radiates peace, a warm sunshine on your bare heart, once you started reading him, it is hard to disconnect from his world, which is always better than reality. Flowing words of Gulzar saab seem more than real. His short verses give you oxygen, reason for living.

His poems explore this beautiful world for you, you never knew if it is exist. Blank pages, few twigs, broken yarns.. He weaved a meaning of life into his words and it seems like a treat to enjoy his creations. Actually his imaginations are beyond the world.

Here I’m sharing his poems I loved the most.

Earrings

As the lamps stare

with blinking eyes,

chandeliers hum

a heavenly tune. 

I have plucked your voice

and worn it on my ears

like a pair of earrings.

Eyes

Your eyes—

are they two devotees

kneeling in prayer? 

When you raise your eyes,

your look resonates

the wet sound of temple bells.

When you lower your eyes,

now sad and pensive,

the call for prayer ends. 

Your eyes ——

are the genesis of creation.

Your eyes ——

are the absolute meaning of life.

So I’m going to read it over and over. It is highly recommended for those who live gulzar’s words. We’re actually blessed because of gulzar’s presence in our era.

Affiliate Link (Amazon India) : 

KRYPTONITE

In the flickering light

Almost a shadow

Playing a reminiscence of past

And lilting solitude

patiently moving to his arms

His nimble fingers

Wavering on the chords of guitar

With a silent promise of life

Just like a hummingbird

As, if he stopped

he would engulfed by his own rhythm.

Every time his crafted voice floats

he discovers himself

at the edge of partition in 1947

he was rooted out

from his very lullabies then.

Now He plays whenever

his inner child urges to sleep

And the echoes of

his sinking pulse reverberate

as world’s Kryptonite.