Love, Rose

Love, Rose

With the heart beating out excitement, as I walk along her side, I realize that our togetherness was destined. After all our compatibility with each other was beyond expression. From being mere classmates to friends to best friends and finally to being at a point of loving each other forever, we had reach. This was our first outing off her city and planning it well was must. Then there we were, in middle of the day. The sun setting over the horizon and we walking hand in hand by the mighty Arabian. The sea always made her happy. Happy beyond limits. She always said that her favourite terrain being the beach. And so the walk by the sea, was on the itinerary of the day. Everything was going as planned, but then life is unpredictable, isn't it? She stopped in between and I turned around to see why. Holding a red rose in her hand, she got on her knee. With both her...
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Helpless

Helpless

Helpless.   Haven't you ever felt so?   Seeing things and not able to change the wrong.   But wrongs had always been there, then it dawns.   However, helplessness? Perhaps not.   Then what made the wrong to stay so?   Was it the silence?  Or had it been the rotten core?   To change the wrong the question always arrived   We ignore and name it helplessness. (Can that be denied?)   Aren't we at the stage yet where we are aware of it and need to change it?   Or would it take some more sisters, homies and lovers to be molested before it?   Is it really the issue with the society as a whole?   Or is it just merely us on a personal chore?   It's been long now. Long enough to bear and be helpless.   It's time to make those wrong helpless. ©The Honest Fabler — Sarvesh Antapurkar ©Image Source — Google Images...
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My Poetry

My Poetry

On the nights when I sleep alone, missing you by my side, the vacancy never fills up and sustains the void, On such night you become my poetry. At times when I see you, the times when I forget to notice anything else, when I'm full with you, At such times you become my poetry. On the days when you are down, sad and upset, and talking to me when you say,"thank you for cheering me up' On such calls you become my poetry. Just looking in your eyes, resting my head on your shoulder, when you caress my face with your fingers, You become my poetry. And then as I leave, headed back to my field, I get a knot in my throat and I can't speak, When I feel the tears rolling down my cheeks, You become my poetry. ©The Honest Fabler — Sarvesh Antapurkar ©Image Source — Google Images...
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