Whispers of Heart

  To all the amazing people, to whom even a small act of kindness mean so much that you keep repeating the whole experience again and again and again until it stops giving happiness aymore, rather bring boredom or exertion... Someone rightly said and this might help a lot!: "Moments are stars - they shine once and that once is enough to light a lifetime". "The gift of a moment is in its passing, not possession." The value of a moment comes from experiencing it fully once, not from re-living it endlessly.... Repeating such happy moments create a pattern, and when we repeat such happy moments we are unknowingly training our brain to do it with all incidents and when it does the same with bad moments, that we wish to forget, we find it difficult to control our thoughts, because it all feels out of our hands and our mind becomes an insane driver, driving our thoughts endlessly without us having any say in its job.  So breaking the pattern, is the right step. And remembe...

O the beauty,  So deep and far, Yet you rule over the sky full of stars, Like the mighty king,  Oh if you were a person  I would gift you my perfect ring!  O the beauty, mightiest of all, I am just a small particle of dust And look at you, you stand so tall!  I jump, smile, cry like a kid seeing you, You are lovely in all shades and phases, I wish I could say I love you,  In each of my word, each of my phrases.  To touch you is my desire, I may dress in my best attire, Just to watch you for hours, And play slow music in the background.  O dear Moon,  What ties do we share, That I am so attracted towards you? 🌕 (8 September, 2025 - Lunar Eclipse)

  What is death, if not the eternal peace Of the soul, And an unhealing wound in the hearts of the dear? But how does death arrive, When you hold your Lord so near? Deaths, in all their forms and phases, Are dreadful. Unpredictable episodes— Who can ever foresee? At times, I wonder: How will mine unfold? Will I be choked to death  by a crooked hand, Or struck down by a car? Perhaps lightning will be my final reason, Or Global Warming in the form of extreme season. Landslides may bury me mid-journey, An asteroid may shatter my tomorrow, Or floods may swallow me whole. A train may collide me into death, Or I may collapse mid-verse, While reciting poetry. Perhaps I’ll freeze in the  harsh Siberian cold, Or dissolve in joy beneath the Northern Lights. Maybe loneliness could bring my doom, Or I pass away in a darkened room, Or it may happen  I’ll rest my last breath On the warm lap of my beloved, Hence, a peaceful, secure death. These haunting scenes of the final destinat...

  A high-value person choose to walk away from anything not meant for them—with their head held high, a spark in their eyes, and an aura that feels unfathomably divine.

  When roses are met with no praises, Butterflies with strings, Beauty with melancholy— Who grieves? The thunders you hear are nature’s wrath, Rains pour down as she holds her tears. Her anger comes with the roar of lightning— Nature grieves today, For the delicate heart is hurt. The happy tales she recited Lead to paths unknown. With no peak to this mountain, The wanderer pauses, Collects courage, and descends Empty-handed. The visions, dreams, and coincidences Were hoax, not signs. The wanderer returns to things That effortlessly align With her values and aspirations— To see what the future really holds. This time, No trust in delusional admirations. So even if there’s a homecoming, The wanderer is lost forever. Where is the shelter? Where is the home? For someone who finds home In people Remains unsheltered. Where does the wanderer go When love and rage together grow?