Love and Relationships

Roses n thorns (my garden)

We all have pricking thorns all over our soft fragrant selves.
Love is about removing those thorns one by one.
Getting hurt and bruised too in the process.
But trying to fill in the soft self with deep love, and care and healing it fully.
It doesn’t happen overnight.
It takes time,

patience and effort.
That’s where people lose the track-
Thinking thorns as the only reality, not the true soft fragrant self.

Even if you pick up those thorns, you will find the rarest essence of the soft self in it and you will take that pain as a reward of building a very strong love in time to come.
Only if you are willing to go that far and deep.
No love is all sweetness n

And softness.
It sharply tears you from within.
And shakes your inner core deeply,
Like a sky- shattering and blinding lightning thunder.
Unless you understand that deep pain,
You wont understand what true love is.


inspiration, philosophy, poetry, Soulful

The light still shines

The dark existence,
And its stark persistence,
The obnoxious energy,
And its hollow synergy,
The scathing vice,
And its perturbing caprice,
The impinging attack,
And its stinging flak,
The cunning thought,
And its smelly rot,
The evil intention,
And its pertinent tension,
The sly comments,
And their unpalatable condiments,
The foxy acts,
And their illusionary facts,
The sucking compulsions,
And their draining repulsions,
The erratic statements,
And their puzzled placements,
The gloomy narratives
And their dimming imperatives,
The deliberate scorn,
And its prickly thorn,
The noisy tirade,
And its defeaning charade,
The unrealistic expectations,
And their disappointing manifestations,
The paltry assistance
And its pompous subsistence.
Even within all this,
The light still shines,
And the fragrance still spreads,
The vibrance still stays,
And the exuberance still sprouts.
Even in this barrenness,
In this parched and deficient terrain,
Devoid of warmth and love,
Filled with weeds of hatred and ego,
The scantiness of inspiration,
And the emptiness of positivity,
The goodness still thrives,
The beauty still lives.

light : dark : shine

दर्शन, philosophy, Soulful, Spiritual

The Echo of the Divine

© Aakash Veer Singh Photography

The sweet moment of twilight,

And the sky above,

Ready to adorn the blanket,

Of a dark blue shade.

The stillness in the air,

The peace in the ambience,

The divinity’s sandstone idol,

Fragrance of mogra, sandalwood, and camphor,

And the mellow smell of the wet soil.

A flame emblazens much brighter,

As the darkness slowly sets in,

With the sound of the conch and the bells,

The reverberating utterance of the rhythmic mantras,

And the infallible faith of the engrossed devotees.

Indeed, this is true devotion,

When, everything comes to a standstill,

And is ready to be ingested in one’s soul,

And then get completely soaked,

In the ocean of this gaiety,

And surrender oneself,

In dance,

In music,

In emotions,

In expression,

In joy and ecstacy,

Where one experiences the ultimate truth,

A glimpse of the divine.

divine : echo : bliss

philosophy, poetry, Spiritual

The call of the divine

How one experiences the divinity is a mystery in itself. But whatever be the experience, it’s worth sharing. I am sharing my experience in the form of a short poem.

The morning temple bells,
And the breezy lake side,
The lemony fresh sky,
And the fragrant marigold petals,
The ivory conch echoes,
And the invigorating mantra sounds,
The soothing camphor fire,
And the cleansing holy water,
The clamor of the devotees,
Brought to a dead silence,
By the sheer divine presence,
Not outside as a diety, but within oneself.

divinity : existence : bliss


Poetry Podcast-When a Woman Loves

Love, in separation, love in unrequited ness, and unspoken love, are beautiful aspects of the entire thing.
This episode speaks about how a woman loves a man. The poem uses the figure of speech, a simile, to describe a woman’s love like that of a flower, and the man as a sun.

The Title- When a Woman Loves

Seeds of desire,
when planted inside a woman’s heart,
Become coy buds, blushing in the presence of her man,
And blossom into vibrant flowers at the very glance of him.
But such flowers are bound to wither,
As springtime of love is momentary,
but the autumn seems eternal.
Such is the tragedy of a woman’s unspoken love,
Which blooms in the lovers’ presence,
To dwindle soon in his lack of admission.
The flower is ready to bloom again,
Waiting for the time, for the lover to acknowledge,
The reason for its existence.
As the roots of unrequited love penetrate deep within,
Suffering pangs of the longing for a cherished moment,
That she can relive again.
This is how a woman loves,
Like a silent prayer,
Of a flower to the sun,
Which nourishes her,
Though from a distance,
And she longs to be with him, forever.
The deepest core of her being,
Longing for those beams,
Of light and life,To keep her alive forever,
But she doesn’t realize,
Her mortal existentialism.
After a pensive phase,
And an introspection of her reality,
She contemplates the futility of this desire,
And desires to fulfill this sole wish,
To admire his glory,
from far away.
She tries to spread her fragrance,
To entice his masculinity,
To garner his admiration,
But, the wind flows in the opposite direction,
Diluting her daintiness,
With its gusto, and strength.
And this sweet desire,
Of her tender heart,
Remains in her heart itself.

A pensive look, and eyes filled to the brim, with a deep longing to be loved.

Listen to the poetry podcast on Anchor and Spotify, I share the link below-

Kindly leave a comment, like, or a suggestion, in the name of-

Love: Beauty: Life


First Post (Podcast)


Imagine a brook not made of water, but beautiful teal colored tulips, and the same blooming, and flowing, spreading their fragrance everywhere. My poetry on love, emotions, relations, life, existence, and this soul, works the same way. The words literally bloom, and you can feel the fragrance too.

Enjoy this audio, of the poetry written, and recited by me.


Click on the link below-