The Painted Shell

Penned a soliloquy I had today with myself...

In the noise of all I tried to be,

I lost the simple shade of me.

I traded silence for the crowd,

And spoke in voices far too loudly.

Where have I gone beneath the weight,

Of yesterday and future state?

I look into the polished glass,

And watch a passing shadow pass.

I wore the expectations well,

A painted shell where dreams could dwell.

I smiled to keep the peace outside,

While something quiet slowly died.

Where is the child who knew no doubt?

Who knew what joy was all about?

Who didn't measure worth in praise,

Or count the hours of quiet days?

Yet somewhere deep beneath the dust,

Beyond the fear, beyond the rust,

A tiny spark begins to gleam—

A waking eye inside a dream.

I have not vanished, only slept,

Behind the secrets that I kept.

I am still here, beneath the disguise,

Waiting to open my own eyes.

Whispers of Jasmine

Tiny stars in shades of white,

Blooming softly with the night.

Fragrant whispers fill the air,

A gentle beauty, pure and rare.

Woven into braids and dreams,

Glowing under moonlit beams.

Though delicate, they quietly stay,

Spreading sweetness on their way.

Like jasmine flowers, may we learn

To softly glow, not fiercely burn.

To share our grace, our love, our light,

And make the world a little bright.

A Ray That Never Reached You

I did not wish to fly away...
Only to rest where you would stay,
To stand beside your quiet light
And be your morning after night.

I held a hope you never knew.
A gentle sky that leaned toward you,
While you were chasing other stars
Unaware of these silent scars.

I learned your laughter like a song.
Carried it with me all along,
But every glance you sent my way
Fell somewhere short of what I’d pray.

The future once was painted bright
With both our shadows in its light,
Yet now I walk a different road
With love that has no safe abode.

Still, hope remains...
Though not the same!
It burns without a borrowed flame.
For loving you has made me see
A deeper strength inside of me.

And though my heart stood in your sun,
Unchosen, quiet, and undone.
It learned that even love unreturned
Is proof of how brightly it burned. 

Leaving, Like the Land Does

She loved him

the way the earth loves rain—

open, patient,

never counting how much it gave.

But some clouds pass

without breaking.

Some skies hold everything back.

So she learned

how fields do it—

how they rest

when nothing comes,

how they do not beg the season

to change.

She did not leave in a storm.

She left like dusk—

slow, certain,

with the light still warm

on her back.

What she carried with her

was not loss,

but knowing:

even the soil

must sometimes lie fallow

to remain alive.

And one day,

something would grow

without being asked.

---

Ye kaisa Ishq hai!

तुम आए थे जैसे कोई दुआ

बिना माँगे, बिना आवाज़ किए—

और मेरे दिल में जगह बना ली

एक हल्की-सी मुस्कान की तरह।

तेरी बातों में एक सुकून था,

तेरे आने से घर जैसा महसूस हुआ।

हर शाम तेरी, हर सुबह तेरी—

मानो मेरी पूरी दुनिया तुमसे शुरू होकर

तुम पर ही खत्म होती थी।

पर प्यार भी कभी-कभी थक जाता है,

बिना वजह, बिना किसी शोर के।

हमारे बीच जो धड़कनें थीं

वो एक दिन चुपचाप धीमी पड़ गईं।

तुम दूर होने लगे,

और मैं हर दिन टूटता रहा—

ये समझते हुए कि पकड़ना

हम दोनों को और दर्द देगा।

आज तुम नहीं हो,

पर मेरी छाती में एक जगह

अब भी तुम्हारे नाम की धड़कती है।

कभी-कभी यादों के दरवाज़े खोलकर

मैं तुम्हें चुपचाप देख लेता हूँ—

बिना शिकायत, बिना सवाल।

क्योंकि जो प्यार सच्चा होता है,

वो खत्म नहीं होता—

बस एक कोने में बैठकर

हमेशा-हमेशा रोशनी देता रहता है।

---

Across the Miles

We began like dawn!

Soft light spilling into laughter,

every message a melody,

every silence, sweet anticipation.

The miles felt weightless then!

Carried by promises and dreams,
our hearts learned to speak
in time zones and moonlight.

Now the rhythm slows!

Calls fade, words tire,
but beneath the quiet ache,
something steady breathes.

Love does not vanish!


It changes its form,
A quiet flame learning patience,
A root growing underground.

So let the space between us
teach us new ways to touch!

For distance is only geography,
and love,

Our truest homecoming!

Second Bloom

I had folded my heart away,  
tucked it in silence,
as one tucks a fragile letter
into the back of a drawer.

I told myself,
Love had had its turn.

that the music was over,

that the dance was done.

But then you appeared,

not with thunder,

not with the rush of storms,

but with the quiet certainty

of morning light.

You did not ask me to forget

the shadows I carried.

You simply stood beside them

until they no longer frightened me.

Your laughter stirred something

I thought I had long since turned to stone.

Your touch did not demand.

It invited.

And in that invitation,

I felt my walls soften,

brick by brick,

until even the ruins of old love

looked like the foundation

for something new.

This second chance is not a return

to what was lost,

but a tender beginning,

a softer unfolding,

the kind that grows from patience

and the courage to believe again.

To love you now

is not to erase the past,

but to honour it.

To know what pain taught me,

yet still choose your hand in mine.

And if the heart is a garden,

then you are the bloom

I never thought I would rise again.

So, let the world say love is fickle.

It only knocks once.

I know better.

For here you are,

and here I am,

ready to begin,

not as if it were the first time!

Where Shadows Hold the Heart

 

You tell me you love me,

yet your eyes look past my face,

searching for someone

who lives only in the silence of memory.

Your arms are warm,

but your heart is an echo chamber,

still ringing with the laughter

of a love long gone.

I stand here, alive,

offering touch, offering today,

but you kneel at the altar of yesterday,

faithful to shadows I cannot chase away.

Is it love,

if your vows belong to a ghost?

Or am I only a visitor

at the graveside of your longing?

You say the words,

but I hear the distance,

a man chained to remembrance,

too loyal to the past to walk into the present.

And I,

left holding the ache of almost,

learn that sometimes love

is not enough

to resurrect the living from the dead.

Love Beneath the August Sky

August came with golden skies,
And love was glowing in your eyes.
The world slowed down, the sun sank low,
And all I needed was your soul's soft glow.

We met beneath the twilight air,
With tangled hands and hearts laid bare.
Each whisper danced on lips so near,
Your voice, my favorite thing to hear.

You held me close - no words, just us,
The warmth of trust, the quiet hush.
With every breeze, your touch grew deep,
Like secrets lovers vow to keep.

Your hugs were home - safe, pure, complete,
Like summer rain on thirsty feet.
And kisses? Oh, they wrote a song
That lingered on my skin so long.

August nights, with stars above,
Became the language of our love.
No promises, no planned tomorrows—
Just here and now, with joy and sorrows.

So hold me still, in memory’s light,
When summer fades into the night.
In every hug and every kiss,
August will stay - forever bliss!

When Summer Fell in Love

 June came wrapped in honey light,
And found us in the soft twilight.
The world was hushed, the stars were few—
But all I saw, that night, was you.

The air was warm with jasmine’s breath,

A moment far from time or death.

Your hand in mine, the world stood still,

Beneath the sky, atop the hill.

The fireflies lit secret signs,

Like love notes written in the pines.

We spoke no words, and yet we knew—

The month of June had made us two.

Each breeze that kissed your windswept hair

Was sweeter than the summer air.

Each heartbeat whispered something new—

The season changed, because of you.

Now every June recalls that night—

The hush, the stars, your eyes, the light.

A memory wrapped in velvet skies…

A love that bloomed where June still lies.

---

I Am My Own

You are not made of mirrors,

Nor echoes that fade with the crowd.

Your worth is not a whisper,

It does not shrink or shout aloud.

Not in the praise that lifts you,

Nor in the silence that forgets,

Your value isn't borrowed,

It isn’t weighed by one regret.

You are the breath behind the name,

The stillness when the world moves fast,

The ember glowing in the flame,

The roots that hold when storms have passed.

You don’t have to earn your place.

You are enough in still and strife,

A quiet force, a steady grace,

A soul that sings its own true life.

So, stand without apology,

Don’t bend to fit what others see.

Self-worth grows when we believe:

I am my own, and I am free.

Raised with Love

No need for thunder in my voice, 
No iron grip, no fearsome stare—
I choose a gentler, kinder choice, 
To meet your tears with patient care.

I will not rule with clenched command,

Nor strike the soil where trust might grow;

Instead, I’ll guide your little hand,

And walk beside you, soft and slow.

You are not clay to break or bend,

Not storm to tame, nor fire to quell—

You are becoming, my small friend,

And I am here to help you well.

When anger flares or sadness calls,

I’ll kneel and listen, not control—

For in the cracks of tantrum-ed walls,

I see the shape of your whole soul.

I will not shame your tender cries,

Or mock the dreams you try to build—

Your worth does not in silence lie,

But in a voice that feels fulfilled.

So grow, my child, in sun and shade,

In laughter loud and questions deep—

This love, though gentle, will not fade,

Its roots are in promises we keep.

Ready to Burst

I carry silence like a stone,

A weight that’s grown beneath my skin,

Where voices echo, all my own,

And battles rage but stay within.

My chest, a dam of unshed cries,

Of rage and longing tightly sealed,

Each heartbeat pounds like warning signs,

Of truths I’ve never dared revealed.

My lips know well the art of calm,

But tremble with the things unsaid—

A scream dressed up in quiet psalms,

A wildfire cloaked in words I’ve bled.

Tears wait like thunder in my throat,

Too proud to fall, too fierce to drown,

Yet storms don’t ask, they only float—

And strike when no one’s looking down.

How long can one soul cage a flood?

How long can sparks remain inert?

I feel the rupture in my blood—

These pent-up truths are ready to burst.

So if I break, or if I burn,

Don’t call it madness or disgrace—

Even the stars must twist and turn

Before they shine and split through space.

Echoes of stardust

Born of fire, forged in light,  

Drifting through the endless night.  

Ancient stars that lived and died  

Left their dust where we reside.  

Golden embers, silver streams,  

Flow within our souls and dreams.  

The iron in our blood once burned  

In cosmic hearts that spun and turned.  

Galaxies whisper through our veins,  

A trace of moons, a touch of rain.  

The breath we take, the steps we tread,  

Were once a star’s last words unsaid.  

So, when you gaze at skies so wide,  

Feel the universe inside.  

For in your heart, the cosmos glows—  

A spark of dust that never goes.  

The Words That Wound

A child sits silent, his heart clenched tight,  

In the echoes of words that steal the light.  

From lips that should cradle, comfort, and care,  

Comes a torrent of pain too heavy to bear.  

"You're worthless, foolish, a burden to all!"  

Her voice like a hammer, her words like a wall.  

No lullabies, no tales of delight,  

Only sharp-edged scorn in the dead of night.  

Her tongue, a blade that cuts to the bone,  

In a house full of people, he feels so alone.  

Each syllable bruises, each sentence stings,  

Shackling his spirit with invisible strings.  

He looks to her face, searching for grace,  

But finds only shadows in its place.  

Her laughter is bitter, her kindness withdrawn,  

And the child wonders what he did wrong.  

His tears are quiet, his cries unheard,  

Drowned by the weight of her biting words.  

The world outside is a distant dream,  

While her anger swells like a raging stream.  

But deep within, a flicker remains,  

A hope that someday he'll break these chains.  

For even in darkness, the smallest flame  

Can whisper of freedom and call his name.  

One day, he'll rise, and her voice will fade,  

Replaced by love that his heart has made.  

Though scars may linger, his soul will soar,  

A child no longer, but something more.  

The Visitor (방문객)

By Korean poet 정현종 (Romanized as Chong Hyon-jong). Chong Hyon-jong (정현종; born 17 December 1939) is a South Korean writer and reporter. The poem appears in his 2009 anthology <섬> (Island).  It was featured in the K Drama ‘Because This Is My First Life’. I spotted this on a blog - https://shiningkorean.com/2017/12/06/that-poem-in-because-this-is-my-first-life/

사람이 온다는 건

실은 어마어마한 일이다.

그는

그의 과거와 현재와

그리고

그의 미래와 함께 오기 때문이다.

한 사람의 일생이 오기 때문이다.

부서지기 쉬운

그래서 부서지기도 했을

마음이 오는 것이다―그 갈피를

아마 바람은 더듬어볼 수 있을

마음,

내 마음이 그런 바람을 흉내낸다면

필경 환대가 될 것이다.

The Visitor

The coming of a person
is, in fact, a tremendous feat.
Because he
comes with his past and present
and with his future.

Because a person’s whole life comes with him.
Since it is so easily broken
the heart that comes along
would have been broken ― a heart
whose layers the wind will likely be able to trace,
if my heart could mimic that wind
it can become a hospitable place.

Sighs of an inner child

 

In the caverns of the heart, where shadows dance,

Lies the echo of a past, a wounded trance.

Inner childhood wounds, silent and deep,

Whispers of pain that time failed to sweep.

 

Tiny footsteps in a world unkind,

Innocence shattered, left far behind.

A playground of memories stained with tears,

Where the passage of time magnifies fears.

 

The playground echoes with laughter and cries,

Yet, within, a wounded child silently sighs.

Scars unseen, etched on the soul,

Tales of a past that took its toll.

 

A tender spirit, once pure and free,

Now bears the weight of what used to be.

Broken dreams and shattered trust,

In the gallery of memories, they combust.

 

But within the darkness, a flicker remains,

A resilient spirit that still sustains.

For healing begins when we turn within,

Face the wounds, let the mending begin.

 

Embrace the child who longs to be heard,

Speak to the pain with a gentle word.

In the garden of self, sow seeds of grace,

Let love and acceptance find their place.

 

With each sunrise, a chance to renew,

To heal the wounds, to start anew.

For the inner child seeks a gentle hand,

To guide them home, to understand.

 

So, let compassion be the balm we wield,

To heal the wounds that time concealed.

In the tapestry of life, where shadows loom,

Find solace and strength in the inner child's room.

Pic courtesy: Fireflies Unplugged

Hum jaisa pyaar

Koi hum se hum jaisa pyaar kare

Na koi gila, na koi shikwa kare,

Ae dost, koi hum se hum jaisa pyaar kare!

Muse of my verses

In the corners of  

my restless mind, 

Where fantasies and 

dreams entwined,

There blooms a flower, delicate, shy,

A crush that makes my heart take flight.

Your smile, a beacon in the night,

Your laughter, like a song in flight,

In every word, a hidden art,

You've captured the core of my beating heart.

I watch you from afar, unseen,

In your presence, I feel serene,

A silent whisper in the breeze,

My heart adrift upon the seas.

Your eyes, they sparkle like the stars,

In them, I find the deepest scars,

Of love unspoken, yet profound,

A crush that makes my world go round.

I paint your name in constellations,

In the realm of my imaginations,

A muse for verses yet to be,

A crush that feels like destiny.

Yet here I stand, a silent gaze,

Lost within this love-struck daze,

Hoping that you might one day see,

The crush you are, dear one, to me.

In the tapestry of passing days,

A crush like sunlight's gentle blaze,

A fleeting moment, yet so dear,

My secret crush, I hold you close.

Eternal soul dance

In the garden where
love does bloom,

A sweet enchantment
starts to loom,

Hand in hand,
hearts intertwined,

A love so pure, so unconfined.

Under the canvas of the sapphire skies,

Where every moment truly flies,

In laughter shared and joy so deep,

Love's promises, forever to keep.

A dance of souls, both wild and free, 
In your eyes, my world I see,

Whispers soft as the morning light,

Love so strong, it takes its flight.

In gentle touches, passion's fire,

A love that never will tire,

A melody played by two hearts in tune,

Underneath the endless moon.

With every sunrise, love does grow,

A river that continues to flow,

A tapestry woven,
strong and bright,

A beacon through
both day and night.

Your laughter, like a melody,

Resounds within,
sets my heart free,

In your arms, I've found my home,

In this love, we'll eternally roam.

In happy love, we both have found,

A bond that echoes, all around,

In every smile, in every tear,

Our love story, forever dear.