#old

1891 posts
  • shubhamjoshi 1d

    पड़ाव

    आज उम्र के इस पड़ाव पे हूँ,
    फिर से बचपन पाने की चाव में हूँ..!!
    एक जीवन तो मैं जी चुका
    पत्ते को पतझड़ अब लग चुका
    सुनामियों से जीते एक अर्सा हुआ
    ताश के महलों पर तूफान है बरसा हुआ
    भीगा जाती है छोटी सी लहर भी अब,
    जैसे जर्जर हो चुकी किसी नाव में हूँ..
    आज उम्र के इस पड़ाव पे हूँ
    फिर से बचपन पाने की चाव में हूँ..!!
    थके पथिक को कोई सराय प्राप्त हुआ
    जैसे रंगमंच का एक अध्याय समाप्त हुआ
    बहती हुई सरिता को जब
    सागर से मिलना पर्याप्त हुआ
    करना था जो कर लिया,
    कर्मफलों के अब चुनाव में हूँ..
    आज उम्र के इस पड़ाव पे हूँ
    फिर से बचपन पाने की चाव में हूँ..!!
    ©shubhamjoshi

  • beingpoetic17 5d

    Mr. Banyan Tree, the Swing and Me

    It was a day like never before,
    Everything was packed,
    Mom's favorite kitchen wares to Dad's personal teacup,
    Ron's comics to Sarah's Games.

    "Mom, what about the swing? I want to take the swing also."
    Mom and Dad looked at each other a look of sorrow passed between them.
    "No Ron, we cannot take swing to the city. We won't have space for it.

    Ron ran to Mr. Banyan Tree outside where the swing was. He knelt beside the trunk and looked at the swing for a long time. I could see my friend Banyan trying to sway in hope of cheering the kid. Inside, I did too. I tried to reach Sarah so that she wouldn't cry for not being able to take her cot with her. I tried to reach Mom as she came back and forth in kitchen even though she had already packed everything. She made it look like she was checking whether nothing 'Worthy' is left or not. But I knew, she was trying to assure me that I had the best Kitchen ever by caressing the walls and tables. Somewhere in one of the rooms a piece of me crumbled with what you humans might call as emotions.

    It was hardest for Dad, I knew him from the day he was born. Small little jello to a big responsible man! Like a parent, I swelled at his achievements. He is finally going to the city just like his Papa wanted him to. He was looking out window with one hand on the wall. Probably reminiscing his life in this house. I swayed the curtains trying to reach him, soothe him. To tell him it's okay. I will be fine. I have Mr. Banyan Tree, the swing and the memories to give me company.

    If I could have, I would have hugged the jolly little family tightly and kissed everyone a happy future. It was a day like never before. Everything human like unraveled inside me while they took off in their car. To the city. But I have the memories.
    ©harry1720

  • my_sky_is_falling 1w

    तुम बिन

    अब तो दुश्वारियाँ भी ज़िन्दगी की कम नही होती
    यही होता है मेरे साथ अक़्सर जब तुम नही होती

    ©my_sky_is_falling

  • wakandu 1w

    बत्तियाँ बुझाने से भी नींद नहीं आयेगी...
    #old

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    बत्तियाँ बुझा दो......... कि नींद नहीं आती है

  • maitrayee11 2w

    The age doesn't matter

    The age doesn't matter, what matters is the heart... The way it respects others in the crowd and when you are alone,
    What matters is the eyes when you take a look at someone,
    What matters is the relationship you maintain with someone,
    What matters is the understanding you have towards someone,
    If it's not within,
    Lose yourself from the heart and soul of the other....
    It's not about age, whose greener or whose geriatric....
    It's about you...
    Of being a much of a Knower
    ©Maitrayee11

  • _jjaura_ 2w

    #Let's.talk.facts

    No matter how old I am, "Jashn-E-Bahaaraa" always hits me hard.
    ©_jjaura_

  • sreomchakrabarti 2w

    My Old Man

    He used to be a teacher, my old man.
    Enlightening minds throughout his life span.


    After his retirement, my father took over the responsibility.
    Worked day and night for our prosperity,
    To bring wealth, without which the world did not move.
    My mother brought me up in her own palms,
    Taught me wisdom, to be gentle, caring and calm.
    My father became a successful man,
    Big house, better quality and with secure future plans,
    He just prayed for the improvement of our clan.
    Happiness comes with a cost,
    A cost so costly that it can't be looked over,
    My parents became too dear to God,
    And God called them through a car crash.
    Now, it was only my old man with me.
    Whom I had never seen crying,
    But now, he broke down, as he lost the pillars of his clan.


    He used to be a teacher, my old man.
    Decided to teach again, for the rest of his lifespan.
    There are hurdles in every path,
    Weak sight and broken teeth,
    Knowledge, experience and strong will were the only things he had.
    He set out to teach, thd next day itself,
    In a village nearby, where the children were blind.
    It is not easy to light a candle in the middle of a storm,
    Mocked at, criticized by people in village,
    Who thought education was a stone,
    Which would drown into darkness as soon as it was thrown.


    He used to be a teacher, my old man.
    Enlighted many with the will to teach,
    He helped many to experience the road called life.

    Now as he has become a star,
    Now as he has went very far,
    I continue on his road to enlighten minds,
    Just like him,
    A teacher, my old man.
    Enlightening minds throughout my life span.
    ©sreomchakrabarti

  • sirfsadharan 3w

    मेंemories

    Memories often refer to the past. Because this is the only companion of the past.
    ©sirfsadharan

  • raman_writes 3w

    कौन हारता है पहले अब ये देखना है ।
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    Follow for more amazing post..
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    #follow #comment #share #like #tag
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    #shayar #shayari #shairi #shyari #hindi #urdu #poetic #rekhta #ishqurdu #kavita #kavishala #hindinama #poetry #wordsofwisdom #poem #poet #poetry #ocean #deep #meet #hope #old #love #drown #atheist

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    हद

    वस्ल की कोई उम्मीद नहीं और मोहब्बत पुरानी होती जा रही है ।

    मैं भी समंदर में डूबता जा रहा हूँ गहराई की हद देखने के लिए ।।


    ©raman_writes

  • snehant 4w

    Cherish your scars they represents your strength.
    Cherish your wounds they represent strength.
    Cherish your hard fall it represents your high place.
    Cherish your new you it represents an old fighter soul.


    ©snehant

  • bclark2681 4w

    Golden Years

    With the golden years fast
    Approaching our timeless love
    And our aging bodies my sweet,
    I hope our seventies age treat
    Us well and we are not to fragile,
    Not to sickly to enjoy frolicking
    In the sun and bouncing all over
    This beautiful green earth, loving
    Life before our imminent end
    ©bclark2681

  • jenaroaragon 6w

    #writersnetwork #sand #Bitter #old #death #LA
    I'm humbled by the attention this has received. Thank you to everyone for all the likes and reblogs! And please, feel free to check out my previous work.

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    Bitter Sand

    I'm stranded in the desert.
    The sands may shift, but I,
    see no substantive changes.
    So this is where I die.
    Continual conversion of
    the grains about my form
    insult me as they sting,
    but it's the wind that makes them swarm.
    So how can I be mad at them?
    So hard and tired and old.
    Still, I'd rather die of thirst
    than buy what they've been sold.

    ©jenaroaragon

  • _the_introvert_boy__ 6w

    कहते हैं पीने वाले मर जाते हैं जवानी में
    हमने तो बुजुर्गों को जवान होते देखा हैं मैखाने में
    ©_the_introvert_boy__

  • calm_chor 7w

    Soon

    Soon enough, I'll be older. Soon enough, I'll be at the age.
    The age where they'll ask me who and what I am going to be,
    who will I be with, where will I be, in which air will my ashes finally fly away.
    Soon I'll weep at midnight hoping it never happens.
    Soon I'll be at the wrong side of maturity.
    You'll ask me if I'll still pack my bags for a week of debauchery
    and bike trips to the mountains, if I'll still get that tattoo I told you about,
    a long time ago, if I'll still dread love, if I'll still escape myself.

    I don't know, I never know, I never knew.

    My bags and thoughts are always packed to run.
    I am always a second away from leaving it all behind.
    Leaving myself behind.
    Do not expect me to be wiser. Don't even try.
    Do not expect me to be docile. I'll thunder.
    Break everything around me. Break my back.
    Destroy.

    Soon, I'll be older soon. Soon, I'll be wilder soon.
    Who could ever stop me.

    - Sarthak Kulshreshtha

  • backstorypoetry 7w

    Never ask anyone to stay the same till end.
    Because Earth never stops rotating and people never stop changing.
    -_special_one_to_earth_
    ©backstorypoetry

  • jenaroaragon 7w

    Most of us

    Torrid choking desperation lines his throat and licks his lips.
    A dismal stale bowl hiding under the ashes of a long dead cherry, taunting him, teasing shameful satisfaction.
    There is no great adventure ahead.
    There is no great adventure behind.
    There will be no reward for his endless toil.
    He is too tired to fight for any cause.
    He is too tired to take control of his life.
    He is too tired. He is too tired. He is too tired of it all.
    Still they blame him. Still they say he should have done more. He is too tired to repeat himself. He is too tired to care. He is too tired. He is too tired. He is too tired. He is-

    ©jenaroaragon

  • jenaroaragon 7w

    A Lifetime Ago

    Sometimes I wonder
    Thoughts of another.
    They creep up on me.
    They once were mine.

    I feel Vibrations
    Afterglow tensions
    Just an extension
    Theory of mind.

    Sometimes I miss Him.
    Sometimes I hate Him.
    These thoughts are nonsense.
    A waste of my time.

    They'll just keep coming.
    So no more running.
    I'm much more loving
    I'll be Just fine.

    Why am I like this?
    These thoughts, intrusive.
    Almost abusive.
    Guess life's a bitch.

    Yet here I still am
    With gentle lyrics
    Alive and kickin'
    Against the bricks.

    They said it'd be hard
    But I don't feel God
    These bricks are solid
    Against my sole

    That chapter’s ending.
    My thoughts are bending.
    It feels like flying!
    I'm free. I’m whole.

    Time to get going.
    I won't be slowing.
    New seeds to be sowing,
    Though I'm no rush.

    So I am leaving.
    Done with my bleating.
    But I'll keep on breathing.
    I don't feel lost.

    ©jenaroaragon

  • jenaroaragon 7w

    Anno Domini

    In Anno Domini, Two Thousand O One Nine, the love once more from me withdrew, as I began to figure out, on one rainy afternoon, that I was never going to get over you.

        It took two hundred forty three years of maintaining liberty just to allow me time to grow, but in a world so often cruel, it takes a special kind of fool to hear your sound all around and think it’s true.

        Still, I hear you whisper, from a time long past and gone, though I don’t understand the language that you use. And the writing on the wall says I was always going to fall. ‘Cause I was never really looking for the truth.

        In Anno Domini, Two Thousand O One Nine, I recall the proverbs I once was told. And the Brimstone in my heart weeps from my eyes, becoming salt, as I look back and think about what once was home.

        Scorching winds and fiery coals as I take counsel in my soul. In my distress, I call to thee! But your comfort, you withhold. The ember dies, and I grow cold, as in the silence I concede I’m alone.

        Yet still, I hear you whisper, from a time long past and gone, but I don’t comprehend, despite how hard I try. I read the writing on the wall, but still I stumble. Still I fall. ‘Cause I was never really looking for the light. 

        Yet still, I hear you whisper, from a time long past and gone. Eloi, Eloi, Lamma Sabachthani? How come the voices in my soul whisper still here in Anno Domini Two Thousand O One Nine?
    ©jenaroaragon

  • maunamuni 8w

    #love failure
    #Music
    #old memories

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    He was smiling,
    He was happy
    But his playlist
    Told a different story
    ©maunamuni

  • bird_of_ink 6w

    Well not complete this is just part 1 of 3.
    #love #innocent #monologue #young #foolish #new #old #mystery

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    Snowman

    Dull croaks outside with the faint smell of earth which comes after a long awaited spell of rain, the cool night breeze and the lo-fi music station had set the mood of Arindam. It was nearing the mid-terms and our poor old protagonist was deep in thought on the subject dealing with hearts and hormones and brains. Only thing different was that he was far from the text book knowledge, for he was immersed with the thought of a girl, a girl which somehow managed to ease by the cracks of his dumb persona, and the thought of expressing his "pure , untainted love".
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    [Now that I remember that period, only word that comes to my mind is 'naive'.]
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    Morning spells , seldom loved by anyone, is my personal favourite way to start a day. Even after all these years, rain always seem to bring me a sense of serendipity, with a touch of nostalgia. But curse these muddy potholes !!
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    [Not since 'that' day]
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    "A project requiring two members or one isn't clear yet but start making it from now. And Arindam meet me after the class"- announced our eccentric algebra teacher. What did I do now ? And why is she looking around the class..... Che can't recall her name.
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    I can quite clearly reminisce about her kohl outlined eyes, those doe shaped beauties aiming to freeze fire and unintentionally enrapturing anyone and everyone who looks into her eyes. Calling her Medusa -would it be fair ?
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    [Those eyes had mystery and coyness blended smoothly , so smooth that I was nearly lost. But besides that, something else seem to be hidden]
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    Che, I need to form a group with her for this. But first let me ask her name.
    But hey ,! why that glare ? I was just asking your name, and what do you mean I already know it ? Man what a bitch, I suck at remembering names ya know. Am already hating her.
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    What an asshole I was during those days. Without knowing anything I judge, a folly of mine which I suppose I have overcome. But instead of judging now I have developed a vice just as bad if not worse, which is not having any expectations from anyone. But is it really a vice of mine or a virtue burried under the reality of life ?? Time will tell I suppose, time which is not so much in my grasp.
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    [Time is the greatest healer. A load of bull. _Arindam]
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    So I was presumably invited to her house for the project, or so she says. Man my chance for participation landed in her court, courtesy of our resident eccentric.
    Still, I got to help but hey why is Prabhas being so excited. He invited himself to her house, just go in my stead wannabe cassanova.
    But she got a cute smile. Ehhhh.
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    ©bird_of_ink