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Poem | Lap of time

If body-mind is the bastion your proudly claim How did you miss the breath which silently arrives through hidden gates? Singing the legend of time it gives more than you can imagine Until one day it abandons your riches and the bastion crumbles in the lap of time - The Last Nomad Check out books from the Insight Stories webstore.
Recent posts

Clown by Anu Shah | Words Can Heal

As usual under his painted face And a façade of smile  He was ready to make them  Laugh and giggle, in his own style For the first time, he saw a face  Amidst all the crowd Who could read his eyes and  See the pain which was obvious and loud His heart lurched, and eyes smiled As his soul was full of hope Unimagined and wild But he was not destined To be happy and alive As his fate favoured None, the happiness nor solace However he may strive Once again with his destiny's wit And under the façade of smile The clown is now ready  to make everyone giggle In his own made up guile - Anu Shah This posts was published as a part of the 'Words Can Heal' series. You too can participate and explore your creative side. To know more,  read this blog post . Check out books from the Insight Stories shelf.

चंद्रसखा by Jagruti Devasthali | Words Can Heal

बसुनी तीरी प्रतिबिंब ते, चंद्राचे ती पाहीत असे. पाहुनी चंद्रमा आठवी सजणा, गोड कशी ती लाजित असे. चंद्रमा जो माझ्या तिरी,  तुझ्या ही तो दारी असे.  दोघांत आपल्या एकच धागा, चंद्र सखा तो जोडीत असे.  तरंगत शीतल पाण्यावरती,  माझ्याशी तो बोलीत असे.  साजण तुझा तुझ्याविना गं,  विरहाचे गीत गात असे. अरे सख्या, जा सांग त्यांना,  गीत आमचे एक असे.  तुझ्याच सवे परतावे त्यांनी,  शृंगार माझा अपुर्ण असे. बसुनी तीरी प्रतिबिंब ते, चंद्राचे ती पाहीत असे. - जागृती This posts was published as a part of the 'Words Can Heal' series. You too can participate and explore your creative side. To know more,  read this blog post . Check out books from the Insight Stories shelf.

World Stood Still by Aparna Kulkarni | Words Can Heal

She had a steak left unfinished, some moments yet to be cherished. She had a promise to keep  and a friend to meet.  But the world stood still  and nothing she could fulfil. She had a conversation to complete and some mistakes to repeat. She had confusions to be made and some goodbyes to be said. But the world stood still  and nothing she could fulfil. - Aparna Kulkarni This posts was published as a part of the 'Words Can Heal' series. You too can participate and explore your creative side. To know more,  read this blog post . Check out books from the Insight Stories shelf.

जखम (Marathi Poem) by Anu Shah | Words Can Heal

जखम  नातं आणि मन जखमांनी रक्तबंबाळ होऊन वाहायला लागतं तेव्हा तिचा आटोकाट प्रयत्न नाती जपण्याचा फारच केविलवाणा वाटायला लागतो तिला नेहमीच सवय, उसवलं की शिवायची  टराटरा कपडे फाडावेत तसं तिच्या मनाच्या हजार चिंध्या करून  तो एकदम निर्धास्त कसलीच तमा नसल्यासारखा आणि ती मात्र आपल्या नेहमीच्या सवयीप्रमाणे ठिगळ लावत केविलवाण्या प्रयत्नात - अनु शाह This posts was published as a part of the 'Words Can Heal' series. You too can participate and explore your creative side. To know more,  read this blog post . Check out books from the Insight Stories shelf.

Poem: Path of Innocence | Words Can Heal

We struggle to capture and live in time And even end up labelling it as money Until we encounter a moment which narrates in silence What it means to live beyond the clutches of time Then we can laugh at the fleeting feeling Of being in control of time Throw away our pretentious garbs And walk the path of innocence - The Last Nomad  This posts was published as a part of the 'Words Can Heal' series. You too can participate and explore your creative side. To participate,  read this blog post . Check out books from the Insight Stories shelf.

माझ्या आठवणीतली दिवाळी

बऱ्याच वर्षांपूर्वीची गोष्ट आहे. थंडीचे दिवस होते. मुंबईतली असली तरी थंडीचं कौतुक (होतं आणि) आहे आम्हाला. शाळेतल्या मुलांकडे मोबाईल फोन नव्हता तेव्हाचा काळ. तेव्हा मिळणाऱ्या अनेक सुट्ट्यांपैकी सगळ्यात आतुरतेने वाट पाहायचो ती दिवाळीची. पण याचं कारण ही तितकच वेगळं होतं. नरक चतुर्दशीच्या पहाटे, चक्क चार साडेचारपासून घरी गजबज सुरु व्हायची. त्यावेळी आमच्या सोसायटीत एक प्रथा होती. सगळी मुलं नवीन कपडे घालून चक्क पहाटे सहा वाजेपर्यंत फटाक्याची पिशवी घेऊन मैदानात उतरायची. फटाके फोडून झाल्यावर घरी फराळ आणि मग पुन्हा खाली जाऊन धुमाकूळ. तर अशा पहाटे दादा तयार होत असताना, मी उठून खिडकीजवळच्या पलंगावर निजायचो. बाहेरच्या काळ्याकुट्ट आकाशाच्या पटलावर घरचा कंदिल संथपणे तरंगत असल्यासारखा वाटायचा. कितीतरी वर्षांपासून हा एकच कंदिल आम्ही लावत होतो ज्याचा आकार उडत्या तबकडीसारखा होता आणि त्याला छोट्या छोट्या अंडाकृती रंगीबेरंगी काचा होत्या.  दादाची हाक ऐकू येईपर्यंत पलंगावर पडून बाहेर त्या कंदिलाकडे पहात राहायचा छंद मला नकळतपणे लागला होता. मधेच कुठेतरी दूरवर एखादा फटाका फुटल्याचा आवाज यायचा आणि मग पुन्हा शां