Friday, July 22, 2011

A woman of Substance

She is a cute baby doll, when she is small,
A joy to look at, sweetheart of all

Finicky and flighty, in her teens,
She loves to dress in her denims.

At sweet sixteen, she is all giggles and innocence,
Her heart is bubbling with mischief and romance.

In her twenties, like a blooming flower, she seems,
Ready to conquer, the world of her dreams

At 25, she endures a lot of pain,
To bring a soul, into the world again

Throughout her life, she nurtures and cares,
For her family, every moment she spares.

She walks the tightrope of career and life,
Her world is full of struggles and strife.

She survives solely, on the strength of patience
She emerges a Victor; a Woman of Substance.

Soul-mate

When I am happy, you smile with me.
When I am angry, you rage with me.

When I am dejected, you give me hope,
When I am rejected, you offer your home.

We are in Sync, our wavelengths match,
We need no words; it’s our eyes that latch.

When I am lonely, you fill my thoughts,
Without you, I feel very lost.

A hundred miles apart, though we may be,
When I need you, you are always there for me.

Rains

I love to hear the thundering clouds,
A reminder of the supreme powers

I love to watch the raging sea,
It drowns all my fears

I love to feel the rain on my face,
It washes away my tears.

I love to feel the wetness of grass,
It makes me feel alive.

I love to smell the dampness of Earth,
It fills my heart with love.

I love the warmth of the occasional Sun,
It gives me the will to live.

I love to see the rainbow in the sky,
It makes me dream anew.

प्रेम

प्रेम असते हळूवार भावना.
चोर पावलांनी येते, ह्दयात ठाण मांडून बसते.

प्रेम असतो नाजूक स्पर्श.
मोर-पिसाने गुदगुल्या करतो, गालांवर कळ्या खुलवतो.

प्रेम असते अनामिक हुरहूर.
विरहाच्या साथीने येते, प्रियकराची ओढ लावते.

प्रेम असतो गुलाबी रंग.
डोळ्यांमध्ये दडून बसतो, सारे विश्वच रंगून टाकतो.

प्रेम असते घट्ट मिठी.
आठवणींना आलिंगन देते, रेशीम धाग्यांनी बांधून ठेवते.

प्रेम असतो सुसाट वारा.
मी-तू पणाचे पाश तोडतो, क्षितिजाकडे वाहून नेतो.

प्रेम असते अनिवार आशा.
स्वप्नांची नक्षी कोरते, जगण्याला कारण देते,

जगण्याला कारण देते, जगण्याला कारण देते.