And The Story Begins…

When I first met you I was so shy,
I couldn’t even hold your hand
or kiss you good-bye.
But after a while I started falling in love with you,
And next thing I know,
I was so much attached to you….

Now every morning when I wake up
I see you lying next to me.
You are the one I cherish and love,
A blessing sent from Heaven above.

I will love you as a faithful partner should,
And do everything
for you that I could.
I would let you know everyday,
That I love you more than words can say.

I thank the Lord above
For blessing me with you,
Our relation shall never fade away,
I’ll just keep on loving you ,

Every single day……
Every single day…..

I desire to know you in every detail
Give me this chance, my heart will not fail
Life is a trial, that’s never ending
But together is time we could be spending.

I barely know you, its happened so rapid
And to you this may seem a little drastic
I have to reveal, can’t hold it any longer
You’ve got me trapped in a box of wonder.

Out destinies could intertwine forever
Girl just come to me, it’s now or never
Think of the happiness that’s yet to be
If you would surrender your heart to me.

From the day we met,
God has grown closer to me
indefinitely.
From the day we met,
“more than I ever prayed for”
is how I see life.

From the day we met,
I lose myself in laughter
and love feels so good.
From the day we met,
each time I look in your eyes,
my heart skips a beat.

From the day we met,
my life hasn’t been the same.
I’ll never look back!

My love is yours,
my life is yours;
for you fulfilled more then my dreams could ever design!

© The Honest Fabler- Pooja Mukherjee
©Image Source-www.googleimages.com

Part of You

best friend

Best Friend

For so long I held my heart so securely in place.
Away from the world, in this cold, dark, lonely space.

Then you came into my life, and I didn’t know what to do.
What my heart had so longingly missed, I now found in you.

Letting you in my life was something I wasn’t sure about.
But the more time we spent together I was left without a doubt.

Knowing that with each passing day, your love to me meant more.
It filled a place inside my heart that had known only emptiness before.

I didn’t see how painful it must have been for you to love me, unconditionally.
When I demanded so much of you, this perfect person you tried so hard to be.

Even though it wasn’t purposeful I know it hurt your heart to believe.
That just one mistake, and I wouldn’t hesitate to leave.

How could you have known nothing was ever farther from being true.
Your smile, the warmth of your heart, I could never bid adieu.

As you held my heart you touched a part of my soul, and there your fingerprints still rest.
Your whispers softly echo, with hopes of hearing them I quiet my very breath.

Although where we’re headed now is something yet unknown,
A part of me has left, and never again will I alone, my heart own.

And how fortunate I must be, that at this journey’s end,
It has been, still is, and always will be, you I call best friend.

Just always remember to be patient and pray,
“Tomorrow will be different” as you’d always say.

For you, there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do,
My heart’s not that big yet, but I’ll give you that too.

To be your friend is what I am honored to be,
To be your sister is what I’m meant to be.

So now you should know as we’ve reached an end,
To me you’ll always be more than a friend.


© The Honest Fabler– Pooja Mukherjee
© Image Source – Google Images

Hope’s Gleam

The flower that is given little light tastes not enough of joy and cannot thrive,
then fades away like dusk into the night.

The soul who struggles just to stay alive much like the flower wilting in the dark,
tastes not enough of joy and cannot thrive.

How can a fire be lit if there’s no spark?
Without hope’s gleam, the soul will waste away,
much like the flower wilting in the dark.

This is the plight of one whose world is grey:
Though others say a paradise exists –
without hopes gleam, the soul will waste away.

A man upon this earth who tastes no bliss is like a soul brought low who droops his head,
though others say a paradise exists.

How sad that someone rather would be dead!
The flower that is given little light is like a soul brought low who droops his head,
then fades away like dusk into the night.

Winking to the soul dream of dreams ,
Together we can build a future palace one without fear and pain
Destiny will be eternities,shooting arrow.

Do you hear still the melody
to the most beautiful song playing
Warmly exploring deeply touching tunes
Covering the bed with rose petals

Music plays a heartfelt chant sighs,
I miss you dearest flower forever more,
just like the desert misses rain
Whispers held on a cloud of breath beautiful.

© The Honest Fabler- Pooja Mukherjee
©Image Source-@Bijoy singha photography

Umbrella – An Impromptu Fable

umbrella

The Polka Dotted Umbrella

It wasn’t my choice to get polka dotted umbrella, but my mom insisted and I couldn’t reject.

I was 10, back then. Yet I understood enough and hated the girly color of it.
At times, when the rain came in after our school ended I avoided to take it out and would rather get wet. I was sure my school mates won’t let me just live with it. Especially, Ronit, my next door bully. When we were children, we were the best of friends but these days he didn’t even acknowledge me in school.

Obviously, my mom knew I did it on purpose and still tried to explain me how the judgement of others don’t matter. So, I did it. Three months after I got the umbrella, on an afternoon after school the rain pour started. I remembered her words and dared to open it. It took me a lot of courage to take the embarrassing shade out but I was close to my home & the road was almost deserted. I sighed with relief.

But oh, I wasn’t so lucky. I noticed Ronit waiting under a roof of a grocery store and my feet went cold.
I froze in my tracks and waited for him to go ahead. If he saw me now, my school life would be a mess.
I waited for a minute or two, but then the most unexpected thing happened. He checked left, then right.
‘All clear’ he must’ve said it and he took out the same umbrella I held in my hands.
“Another Polka Dots!” I laughed a little too loud but muffled my face.
He must’ve heard my laugh, for sure, because he stared right at me with his eyes open in terror.
His secret is in the open! He ran to me, his cheeks burning red with embarrassment.
“Look, Arush. I-”
“It’s okay, look.” I pointed towards my own display of embarrassment and he looked up.

He started laughing when he realized we are in this, together. “Our little secret?” He offered me his hand. “Our little secret!” I shook it & all those years of lost contact came back to me in that moment. Little did I know, an Umbrella would break our invisible barrier.


©The Honest Fabler
©Image credits – Ashutosh Gursale (@frames&fables)

Writers are Paranoid

writers

Pre-Script:

We, writers, may be well known and respected for portraying our thoughts in words but there are few secrets that every writer keeps to himself. Now, I may be exaggerating but these are my worst fears and to be honest each of it is a byproduct of paranoia.

Writers are Paranoid

From the moment we pick up our pens,
till we start with the first letter on the page,
we are afraid.
Afraid about starting the thought our
mind has instigated & what will be the best way to begin?

From the first chapter’s completion,
till the transition of next, we are afraid.
Afraid that if we fail to write again
and live in our real world,
we’ll get exiled from the world we created.

From the introduction of the protagonist,
till the elevation of events, we are afraid.
Afraid that our imaginary friends may leave
us high & dry in the middle and
our story would never proceed.

From the triumph and the climax,
till the final verdict of the book, we are afraid.
Afraid about any plot holes we may have
left in our world.
The story we invested everything in.

From the forming of another plot,
till the publishing of current,
we are afraid,
Afraid if we can even live long enough
to tell the world our stories by our pen.

I agree we are paranoid,
but we’re the fuel.
We’re the ones who remember,
the tellers of truth & tales.
We’re the thinkers and the ones
who never give up even after rejections.

It’s because we know our worth.
It’s because we know we’re writers.


©The Honest Fabler
©Handwriting credits – @theartisticmess

Post-Script:

The past few weeks were buried under academics and extra-curricular activities. I almost forgot the feel of blogging, but it’s really great to be back♥ Wish you guys a great week ahead!

Innocence

innocence

Innocence.

In her eyes, the world was pure;
So pure that even I felt safe.
No evil could harm her soul,
for she believed I can protect her.
Her happy face would start my day;
Her tired yawns would mean good night.
In her whole palm she held my finger,
While my palm could hold her arm.
She knew nothing about the world,
A lone reason behind her happiness.
The more she discovered,
The less she believed;
The more she realized,
The less she smiled;
The more she failed,
The less she tried.

Thus in the end, if there ever is one,
I’d wish nothing but an eternal childhood for the juveniles who are still innocent and away from the grief.


©The Honest Fabler
In frame: My cousin Saee.

ON A RED WINE TRAIL

A glass of red wine

On a cold night,
lies a circular lake
the colour of blood;
Christ’s blood.
Wavering liquid
and dancing lights,
breathing spirit
from red enigma.
It shines and reflects
as I sit to ponder.

On life –
with mourners and celebrators,
travellers and settlers,
blood and water,
with old and new.
The first is last,
with numbers and signs,
in time and space,
with echoes and sirens.
Paths are etched,
erased or opened.
All is well.

Cupped in glass,
crystal or cracked.
A chalice,
a source,
a symbol of hope.
With one sip,
it engulfs and nourishes me
threefold.
A taste once foreign is
now medicine that heals.
Beyond all limits,
it’s mercy and grace.

Slipping down inside a crystal chandelier
red rouge cheeks running on through
breathe as visions settle in my mind
you’re just a little bit of nutty
with an apricot perfume
quite exceptional I do say
a kindred spirit bouquet

Teasing along the tip of my palate
caramel gaze of grandeur glows
as you kiss my parched lips away
partaking a perfect compliment
in every simple way
sparkles spill in anticipation
topping off a pleasant day.

© The Honest Fabler- Pooja Mukherjee
©Image Source- Www.widewallpapers.com

Winking Cupcake

I sink my shiny white teeth into
The rich creamy delicious chocolate cake .
I lick my lips,I think I am addicted.
My mind sighs blackberries
and a moonstruck melody
plays along my spine
as I soak up the fruited juice
of I love you coloring your lips
The cherry blush of breathless,
And a smile amid the wash
Of blueberry eyes, should indicate
My intended reply.

I am looking blindly into the fridge.
You are the keeper of my heart.
Its natural form bleeds away in a sticky juice.
She laughed as softly as if she sighed,
I wondered though would she ever love me,
Her smile revealed things only I could see,
Now would I tell her of the things I thought
I wondered though would she ever love me.
What is this feeling that has made me taut?

Now would I tell her of the things I thought
All other food but love I’d surely spare
What is this feeling that has made me taut
My life I’d gently give to her with care
All other food but love I’d surely spare,
Then I would be hers and she would be mine,
A life together we would have to build,
My love and joy swelled up until I cried,
I’d be her love,companion and her shield,
She laughed as softly as if she sighed.


© The Honest Fabler- Pooja Mukherjee
©Image Source- Myself

My Best Half

Time’s due / My best half.

First time we met.
We smiled, laughed and played
by the big Oak Tree in the back.
A kindergarten friendship we made.

It lasted for years,
Through all of the school life.
Laughs and smiles,
Fights and tears.

And now we know,
We are never apart.
If I did anything right,
In life…

It was giving you my heart.
Time, if I had all the time in the world
I would want absolutely nothing.
It is not time itself that makes your life worth something.

In the time that I have,
I will be kind, gentle
and more giving.
I will take advantage of all the time I have to show more joy;
I’ll be living.

I will take the time that I have
to listen more intently.
I will respond and speak more
wisely and more softly.

In the time that I have
I will share it with those whom I love,
Because I have no idea how much time I have;
that is up to God above.

In the time that I have
I will devote myself to God through you.
Let the word of God enlighten me
because without her I have no life.

In the time that I have
I will love and honor my wife in all that I do.
I do this out of love, a devoted and
never ending love for you.

In the time that I have I will share a passion
for a blessed and positive life.
I will make the time to share my love with
my one greatest blessing, my beautiful wife.

In the time that we have together I will lift you up
in spirit and to God I will pray.
That you have health, kindness, and love as part of your blessing each and every day.
Time is no longer my friend, and I know that is true.

My wife, that is why I want to devote all my time in loving you.


© The Honest Fabler– Pooja Mukherjee
©Image Source- Wides Wallpapers

बारिश की यादें। Memories of Rain – Hindi

बारिश

बारिश के बूंदो ने जो हमे भिगो दिया,
ऐसा लगा मानो हमने आपको फिर छू लिया।
सौंधी खुशबू आई इस धरती की,
पर ऐसा लगा मानो हमने आपको फिर पा लिया।


Translation:

When the drops of rain drenched me,
It felt like the lost touch of your fingers.
The petrichor came from the earth,
But it felt like I found my lost treasure- that’s you.


It’s my first try at a language other than English. Hindi, here. I’d really appreciate your feedback and ways for me to improve! Thank you. ^-^

©The Honest Fabler

©Image source- Ashutosh Gursale