Thursday, 23 February 2012


Harmonious I like to feel to stand:
Whom I do love most?
Right beginning from the marriage days forward.
Think more, says the mind,
With patience, more lovingly,
From Swapna’s closeness to my lover,
The feeling pinching my heart,
Nothing more that pains me,
To the convicts of reality I do cover,
When Swapna objects me,
But does not rolled out from me,
And becomes so sound of love,
That I do not find in my lover,
And a wild journey she partakes
Like a status she holds among elite classes,
From their superior quality they hold,
The most appearances they raise
And most of time, they wants praise
And for this they halt on my way,
With love space, no man does ignore,
To get a praising boost they value,
Not my mind, but the fame
In the limelight, and in the name of love.

Oh! The literary journey, my cry
An alter, never praised by critics,
The great feeling of love I have with,
Comes within my heart in words,
Upon my shoulders, to write,
That comes loud when I read them,
In my imagination, I hold them
The every word I do write
No one can realize what to realize
The pains that I have to share
And many friends turn to romance,
And only one is on the way of love.

She does not smile or praise instead,
She does not smile, flinch neither,
She does not scorn, or feel courage,
To talk with me when I write,
But stands by me with domestic work,
And cares me on my way of thinking,
She does not discourage me
And yet sometimes she becomes angry,
And says, “Your words will not last,
As you have no eyes to see the earth,
That is near to you, and clears your path.”
Then whirling on a imaginary world
My thinking goes with imaginary love,
I rush for getting for more love
From the woman who is not in contact
Of my eyes, touch, and tuned delight.

Swapna seeing my deposition
She goes out to see her mother
And lives there and telephones me
To make me alert, shield me right,
And comes more close than me
I do care for her, yet she is a joyful cry,
That flows silently in my heart,
And I lean on her dearest feeling,
Like wilderness in love thralls,
And I feel strong to call her back,
A good score that she does hold
Those breaths in me like life’s life,
And Swapna is the noble love
That I forget so long as if she is away,
And I have to cheer her and call her back.

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