Thursday, 31 July 2014

Boutonnie're

Growing up with a rosebush,
In a backyard,
Was fun,
It was your first kiss,
That you gave me my Sun,
That, I could open up my arms,
curling around you my tendrils,
My thorns were sometimes flamboyant,
I know, accidently, you were bruised,
But I was a wild, wild plant, in the backyard,
Growing up, on my own, in my full bloom,
Carefree, without a fear to be pruned,
Backyards are such safe places,
You have to live there to know, what they are,
I flowered every morning, petalled,
and went around with the air, but, never was lost,
The freedom, to be,
Was all consuming,
I am sorry dear,
I could never become your, boutonnie're

Tuesday, 29 July 2014

My secret lover

God in every being,
Mischievously
Knocks at my door,
To run away,
Secretly,
Asks me to knock
At his door,
In retaliation.

He is my secret lover!

Sangeeta Suneja

Monday, 28 July 2014

Eid

Kabhi woh eid thee, jab woh chand thaa,
Woh mera khulla aasman tha,
Woh zamana aur thaa,

Aaj bhee eid hai, aaj bhee woh baidaag hai,
Bun'd hai badalo kay aagosh may,
Aaj zamana aur hai.

Sangeeta Suneja

Saturday, 26 July 2014

The wars

If wars were the reasons to seek peace and harmony, I would rather live in a chaos of a disagreement,  as it happens in most of the marriages, The moment we begin an argument to resolve, the cold war begins.
In the case of Gaza strip bombardments, and the crossfires in most of the marriages, the provocations by a foreign hand,
actually worsens it, if the two parties can diffuse their internal insecurities, they can resolve, else it would remain a roadshow, to watch, to discuss over and never learn anything worthwhile from their experience by all others.

Sangeeta Suneja

Kalakaar


आसमा पर नाचते रागो तुम्हारा हर सुर गुलाब सा िख्ला है!
बाग मे आस्मा उत्रा है, आस्मानि   आलाप सातो रंगो मे िभगोने को त्य्यार है,
ंमर्ज़ि तुम्हारि अपकनि है!
कलाकार जो ठह्रे!

सगींता स्ुन्ेजा

Prayatan

काश तुम मुझ्े तब भी िल्ख पातीं
आज जैसे मै तुम्को लिख्ती हूॅ!

सगींता स्ुन्ेजा

Your askance

You drape me in your favourite blue velvet storms,
You send me off, ensuring,
that, I am demolished, I am gone,
The sky has swirled,
grey to blue, blue to black,
oozing magificance,
In all that you send and want,
Your askance,
draws all clues, encirlces the silhouettes,
comforts its own self,
does not let the nights yawn.

I am spent,
the lifelong,
In your disbelief,
Demolished,
But I am here, alive,
As much as the storm,
Wondering, why am I not yet gone!