What if?

Love should have the freedom of choice and expression.
If the Sun were love, one should soar in the sky as a bird  to embrace it, at the same time, be as grounded and patient as the sand which eventually receives the warmth.Turning it into miles of gold.
Love is  bound with the strings of the soul, not with words, actions or blood. It plays its own music, has its own language; understood by some but misinterpreted by most. What if everyone interpreted it as it was meant to be.

What if words were heard through the beating of the heart?

Emotions were seen through the windows in the eyes?

A touch felt deep within the mysteries of the soul?

Feelings were spoken through waves in the brain?

What if one could smell the love in the air?



How loud would be the whispers of the beating heart!

How clear the confusions within the eyes!

How steady the fluttering touch within the soul!

How electric the static language of the brain!

How profound the subtle fragrance of love!


What if...

Photo Credits Go To Amita Sinha

From Inside A Window

Photo Credit Goes To Amit Sharma

The world is out there,inviting you,
accept the challenge, don't just look out the window.

Life is waiting, to be lived, get on with "karma",
live it, don't just sit.

Unlimited sky, calling out to be conquered,
let your soul soar, don't just peep out the corridor.

Leave the safety of the house, venture out,
be done, go help those who don't have one.

Winters are here, pick up those old clothes, don't pack,
give out to those, who don't have a single on their back.

Sipping coffee, sitting on the window sill is not enough,
brave the chill, buy a cup for those who have it rough.

Forget the designer sales in the markets,
cover the shivering homeless with new blankets.

Get up, get out, don't just look out the windows.
be generous, be kind, reduce other's woes.

Gold in the Ganges

A friend of mine, while visiting Varanasi, was posting photos on Instagram.She was telling many stories through her pictures. I happened to borrow  one of her stories and a picture.



Little girl always drew rivers, with the Sun rising in the East.
She drew boats sailing, fishermen rowing, not worried in the least.

Painted pictures but by imagination, used reds and yellows.
Blues of the water, boats always black, in the shadows.

Grew up, restless, looking for calm.
Travel seemed to her like balm.

Wanderlust pulling and pushing.
Mighty rivers always calling, inviting.

So..which legend to cruise on, better than the Ganges?
Capturing childhood paintings in real life,
with strokes of melted gold in the Ganges.

Photo Credits Go To Ruchira Asthana.