Just like good-reads, these are adyasha-reads. Hope, my writings justify so.��

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  • adyashareads 3w

    Not Merely A 'Teacher'

    Since ages ancient were known,

    Simple and underrated definitions.

    One who taught just something,

    Was called a ‘teacher’ for generations.

    Be it at merry or misery,

    Stand by their students’ sides.

    Friends at times, inevitably,

    They are perfect perpetual guides.

    Confidant comrades whenever sought,

    Good patient listeners they are.

    Letting us speak our hearts out,

    Console and assure they aren’t so far.

    If you believed unfledged meanings,

    Take few moments for redeems.

    As not merely ‘teachers’ they are,

    The relation’s deeper than it seems.

    ©Adyasha Priyadarshini ©adyashareads

  • adyashareads 6w

    It's ok to get angry with someone out of desperation, but it's never too late to rethink, realise and forgive.

    After all, one has one's part to say, some reasons behind to answer and some circumstances to face!

    Never lose hope, try to acknowledge and change those.


  • adyashareads 10w


    I sew thoughts in my writings,
    Laying my desperation in uneven threads.
    I moisturize the cottons with my tears,
    And hide emotions under my weaves.
    They soak my ales,
    And veil my numb optics.
    Knowing it won't fade into skies,
    I sew myself in my writings!
    ©Adyasha Priyadarshini

  • adyashareads 10w


    Men have emotions too,
    They can let it free or outdo.

    They have the right to screech,
    They know their destinations to reach.

    They have the right to their space,
    Believe everything is done with pace.

    They too can cry, fight and scream,
    Might be the pain of an unfulfilled dream.

    They might, at times, love and leave,
    But not always to betray and deceive.

    They might give devastating pain,
    Sometimes their ardor too is not in vain.

    ©Adyasha Priyadarshini

  • adyashareads 12w


    Fell the glints of entity unknown,

    On my dull, tear coated countenance.

    Highly more than affection it was,

    That freed my hidden spirits in durance.

    Splashes of something unknown freshened,

    My veiled heart of emotions untold.

    I sensed it as the mutually fed honesty,

    That let my hideous truths enfold.

    Linked to unknown roots of ardors,

    The heart was desperate to plea.

    You heard and shared every bit then,

    Including the crumbling me.

    Studying something unknown of yours,

    I expressed freely my disturbing harsh.

    Still in a confusion if you liked those,

    Because many define me is a marsh.

    Somewhere unknown in your heart laid,

    The buried broken parts of your past.

    Though had realised telling you earlier,

    Was waiting for your trust on me to last.

    Unknown in the hated puzzlement I stand,

    Trying to search what me means to you.

    Myself afraid within to hear the truth,

    Is loving to cuddle our memories few. 

    ©Adyasha Priyadarshini

  • adyashareads 14w

    Speculations and upended assumptions assert not much of intelligence always. Yet, mostly the world is a victim to these.

    Adyasha Priyadarshini

  • adyashareads 16w

    They Pretend

    They pretend to be there,

    They don't knock doors except for the helps they desire.

    Their shadows neither greet nor screech,

    Often their silent letters do not reach.

    They pretend to care with their phony faces,

    They solely blame it on you when life messes.

    Even after gaps they predict you did never wail,

    Not knowing for you how the upended times sail.

    They pretend showering love,

    Though happiness seems to freeze above.

    When they complain of serious deep fervor,

    Their cautious behavior chases away the sweet murmur.

    They pretend they aren't judgmental,

    Fake their harsh opinions unintentional.

    Agreed, at times they might be honest,

    But it's hard to filter what reality hides within the calmest.

    -Adyasha Priyadarshini


  • adyashareads 16w

    Overthinking is not bad at all times!
    Specially when life has too many dejection and disappointments in store for you, it indeed gives the courage to tell yourself, "It's Alright!"... -Adyasha Priyadarshini


  • adyashareads 16w

    Man cannot crown himself the sole survivor. There are birds, animals, trees and other creatures too innocent to even realise how insecure they are in a world full of demonic inhumanity. - Adyasha Priyadarshini


  • adyashareads 16w

    From the breathing Amaltas to the suffocating traffics; from the dusty red soiled roads to the concrete cement expressways; from the fresh wildlife studded forests to the prevalent extra-urbanization, is the present environment!
    - Adyasha Priyadarshini