A passionate writer and a voracious reader whose love for words and taste of literature defines her! She lets the metaphors speak!

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  • hridayee 22w

    My Blue Sky

    It was a cloudy day,
    When I felt my blood running cold.
    Opened my window,
    With a usual frown on my face
    Cause there wasn't any rainbow
    Just like my heart was,
    A blank canvas;
    Waiting for the one to paint it red
    Passionately vibrant!

    Then came a lively wind
    Pushing those clouds
    That covered the blue sky,
    Bringing along a rainbow
    With it's vivid colours
    He is that wind that blows.

    Making my curls flutter,
    Caressing my nose.
    Pushing my fears and dark nights away
    To bring me a clear sky with a hope
    So that I can fly high
    With my wings wide open.

    He is that morning sunrays on my skin
    Kissing my body gently,
    Waking me up when I am asleep.

    He is the flower that blooms,
    Spreading it's fragrance
    Even in monsoon.

    He is like the ocean waves,
    Gushing with pride
    Holding pearls in it's chest.

    He is the flame,
    That brightens up my whole world
    Once was dark after a deadly storm.

    He is the heart
    That beats inside me,
    Keeping me alive
    Making me complete.

    He is my love
    Eternal and divine
    Pure like the first snow.
    He is the promise,
    The sun makes the moon
    To sacrifice itself at dusk;
    Only for it's moon
    To shine brighter than everyone.


  • hridayee 24w

    You will find me where the wild wind blows and everything burnt and grey.I will never be the crayon with vivid colours like I used to be.I will be the 'dark' , the darkest of the weathers and the strongest of the passions. In the mysterious path of life, I will be the haunted past, the unspoken words and the delicate memories that will follow everywhere. I will be a dead scar with a beautiful story transcending eras.


  • hridayee 25w

    Last night I found that little black dress.
    A mild lingering perfume still afresh.
    Something in it isn't the same
    Is it the way I folded it two years back
    With a coy smile at the seams,
    Still entrapped?
    Or is it the dark stain I overlooked
    For the beguile colour and my obscured sight?

    I saw him making way
    In white shirt and a blue jeans.
    I was there standing still
    Didn't want to know
    If he was a storm in the guise of a sun,
    Or a shinning star guiding my path.
    I knew love has come by my side
    With all its fancies and dark spells.
    The warm street lights
    Blushed to behold his arm resting on me
    Little did he know
    My squeaky walks were caused
    by the butterflies inside my tummy.
    That was a chilly evening
    But the warmth of his hoodie
    Didn't let me feel.
    A bit of an illusion still it seems
    Cause we weren't 'us'
    With a nauseous tinge of white rum.
    The air had its own story to write,
    Making my curls sway, caressing his face.
    He said the way my brown eyes smiled
    Made him wonder why they disappear.
    He was a mystery I didn't wanna solve.
    The sky was dark , so was our love
    We knew it was the colour made for us.
    Our world was devoid of bright rays.
    But doesn't the rainbow despite the colours of the universe
    Laments to be seen and adorned every hour?
    He was a passionate flame to my woods.
    I wanted to be the ash ,
    Scattered but bearing his aura on my chest.

    "Black suits you", a whisper puffed my ear,
    Like a dew drop to my wilted petals.
    Our dark world, darker our faith,
    Painted in black on the blank canvas the world saw.
    Little did they know,
    We were meant to be loud,
    Transcending strong barriers..
    Transcending corrupt colours...


    @writersnetwork @mirakee

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  • hridayee 26w


    It was a love story
    Not a fairy tale existence with
    Prince charming in his white horse,
    Beautiful luminescent castles.
    We had our world painted blue
    No, not even a grey cloud
    For the biased wind knew it all
    Beautiful wasn't it?
    With every passing day
    Plunging deep
    Into the mystic ocean called love;
    Swirling round and round with waves
    Of varied shapes and colours.
    Eyes gleaming with dreams
    For the bright rays of reality
    Burned our innocent eyes.
    Mysterious wasn't it?
    The wild flowers we were,
    Blooming with pride and grandiosity
    No matter where the nature planted our fate.
    Did we know then how fast seasons change?
    It was autumn again and winter on its way.
    I was afraid. . .
    Afraid of the soft snow with deceiving traits
    Of the ocean to freeze, never to rise.
    We had our love, a handful of desires.
    With deceit and treachery on the other hand.
    But it was a promise,wasn't it?
    To bloom every spring,
    Yielding buds of love.
    No, not a fairytale existence,
    But a love mortal.
    "Forever is a farce", he said.
    Did he mean the end of our time?
    Let me reside in your mind then
    Cause your heart is a dark grave now.
    But in figments of imagination or
    Fragments of time , the memory remains
    Alive, gentle and fresh.
    I will rule with grace and faith there,
    With that damaged crown and faded gown,
    And make my train slide your old stairwell
    Like flashbacks and empty echoes
    Of once beautifully woven poems
    With delicate threads of love.
    I know now, I knew then
    Forever is a life after death
    I will be there waiting on the other side
    May be we ran out of time in this life.
    Till then in pages we will live.
    "Forever is eternal" I said.


  • hridayee 32w

    A poem glorifying woman empowerment.
    Every woman has a mermaid buried within the strange recesses of soul that has to rise. No, this time we are not the ones portrayed as fragile , weak and pliant in the hands that mould because we are the golden swords, a mystic with colorful charms casting dark spells on the ones who play as harp.

    @writersnetwork @mirakee @readwriteunite

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    A mermaid to rescue

    The waves ,ocean blue,
    The condensed blood,
    Pale lips, eyes drunk in dark love.
    A bliss amidst the heavenly pain
    The coral reefs adorning
    A sly smile in dilemma,
    Freezed thousands of years ago.
    The heart with untold stories,
    Beneath the waves lay numb and morose.

    That day, a mermaid was born
    Out of the remnants
    Of a crushed soul from the human world.
    Her skin had a magnificent charm.
    The eyes, a kaleidoscope of unforgettable scenes.
    Bewitching every creature,
    Be it the darkest of lords.
    The supreme power of diving deep
    Into the strange streams of psyche.
    To the lover who would betray her innocence
    She is a sword in the guise of a harp;
    Soothing with divine melodies
    On the clefts of rocks.
    Her life is a beautiful illusion,
    Reflecting through the mirror of history
    Like decorated truths on her fins.

    The passionate wildfire
    Conspired on the house with crooked roof.
    Same old flame of betrayal and lie.
    But the majestic ocean have known,
    The dark secrets of human world.
    This time the golden sword
    On the lap of huge waves
    Will conquer, Will save!


  • hridayee 32w

    You know your fingers are trembling and the world falling apart.You try harder to fit in and it drifts away,no matter how fast the rhythms inside your head twist and turn creating an orchestral chamber of melodies long forgotten or yet to be deciphered. It is a constant battle with the vast reservoir of staggering emotions bereft of any identity seeking crevices to crawl out.

    You know your heart racing faster ,your blood gushing inside your veins not knowing whether to run away or hold a breath instead to float in a celestial world where gravity doesn't make you heavier to stay.There are times when the wrecking ball multiplies and break down the walls you build every time they fall, some a bit higher some barely strong enough to hold on.

    You know you are falling into a deep dark hole suffocating and trembling with the feeling of eyes glued onto you and mouths, barrels of gun aimed at your chest with every word that fades into oblivion as your vision blurs sometimes in the scorching heat outside,sometimes with a withered leaf of fall or be it rain, hail or snow.

    You know you are running out of time with the clock ticking on the back like thorns pricking your ear drums constantly.Your chipped nails,screaming for help and you can't help but yield in to the demons struck onto you like it's been ages since you knew the angels with beautiful wings sprinkling mirth in your dreams. Your clock has come to a standstill and there's no "time" in your mundane world neither to live nor to exist.

    You know you are not dying slowly, not today not even tomorrow or the days to come.You are a warrior of all the battles to come , of the ones you have lost but didn't give up. You know you are a flower with every petal bearing a fragrant scar. .Your heart is a protector of fragile emotions , a keeper of the bruised soul with injured walls but your heart is a survivor. For every time you couldn't sleep at night by crawling inside your blankets with the voices inside your head at 3 am, cried like a small kid like an alien in this indifferent world, held on to yourself in the worst, smiled on a sunny day with your demons on your back ,YOU HAVE SURVIVED!

    Cause yours is a scarlet story with magical sub-plots and no endings.


    @writersnetwork @mirakee @readwriteunite

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  • hridayee 33w

    Love will live

    They were a translucent flame,
    Flickered behind the obscure veils,
    Inside the four walls
    Of constructed standards.
    Captive minds,
    With faded opacity of faith,
    Smudged their sky,
    Now a chandelier of dribbling emotions
    Radiating dusky hues;
    Like a rainbow being gradually robbed off,
    Of its saturated chroma.

    Dark clouds made way, never to dissipate.
    Gloomy dark world,
    Devoured hearts drunk in love;
    Etherized on beds with withered flowers
    Gasped for a breath.

    But love will find its way
    Through that same narrow lane
    And winding paths,
    With pebbles guiding them safe:
    Dropped down by lovers,
    In the fear of being lost in a maze,
    Created by men.
    Their footsteps echoing every corner,
    In a world bereft of warm arms
    To hold icy hearts shivering in cold.
    But love will live.
    Beat,breathe and bleed red
    Transcending time immemorial.


  • hridayee 42w

    Lavender here symbolizes femininity !

    #knot @writersnetwork

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    Loving him was...

    His love was a heaven,
    Bestowed upon a dying bud;
    A beautiful home,
    To a lost soul caught in an enigma.
    He was the first snow to my winter,
    Lucid and pure, on my barren heart.

    His touch was a dew drop,
    To my petals of lavender.
    A boon to my maidenhood,
    Making me toss, emit fragrance;
    Reviving every bit of me,
    Like a rainbow after a rain.

    His words,
    A doze of narcotics.
    Numbing all my pain,
    Cradling me to sleep.
    Drunk on it ,
    I float in ecstasy.

    His promise,
    A knot on my tender lips
    Unbreakable and divine
    Like 'the sacred vow'.
    An imprint on my every breath,
    A love with its delicate whims.


  • hridayee 43w

    When the sky turns black,
    And the stars spread their hands with diamond rings;
    When the world is engrossed in a deep slumber,
    And the city lights a little more dim;
    I place my footsteps on the moonlit ground
    And flutter my impaired wings.
    Wandering, dancing and living a little more
    Until I feel the sunrays kiss my cheeks at morn,
    That once was fragile and gentle
    Now made firm yet strong
    By the questions they smear it with.
    For there lies an obscure veil over eyes
    Adorned with images of a "perfect someone";
    I failed to be.
    So, I retreat into a dark corner of my darkened world
    Where I was taught with well-groomed norms:
    Not to question but to conform.

    To curious hearts with malign blood:
    "How do you define beauty?"
    Masks with myriad colours trying to fit in?
    Or the soul deep within flesh and bones
    Untouched and pure longing for love?
    My face is a blank canvas
    Not to be drawn but to be colored.
    As I stand infront of the mirror
    Sharp echoes luminate my reflection.
    For every time I heard those
    I died a little more.
    In an idyllic ecstasy when the night calls
    I bloom gracefully like a wild flower
    On the lap of the nature surreal
    For every time I cried a little more
    I had the warmth of a home .


    @writersnetwork #home
    Imagesource: Pinterest

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    As I stand infront of the mirror
    Sharp echoes luminate my reflection.
    For every time I heard those
    I died a little more.

  • hridayee 43w

    @writersnetwork @mirakee

    I was a bit inactive for the past few months because of some tough times I was going through. To my readers and fellow mates , I apologize for not being able to respond to your beautiful write ups. Also, I would like to assert that I graduated this month and would like to congratulate everyone who have done the same.��
    This is a poem I wrote in the loving memory my uncle whom I lost few months ago.Life took a drastic turn and has never been the same.
    Life is hard, it's a struggle we need to go through but surviving amidst everything with new hopes and reviving shattered dreams is what life is about, isn't it?

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    Hollow Oasis

    Strange was the hollow oasis,
    Where exilir was the fuel
    For happiness to burn alive.
    Deep within the shallowness
    Glazed a ray of transcendent truth;
    Of life, greatness, love and death
    Running smoothly along its perfect silhouette.

    Strange was the vacuum
    Left behind by an earthy soul
    In the hearts of its beloved,
    With windows wide open
    Never to be closed.
    For there is a lie even in the strongest of truths,
    That lets a part of us live even in the darkest of worlds.

    Amidst the meadows,
    Once a whirling storm,
    Harsh,cruel and cold
    Took possession of the delicate roots.
    An untimely death of a lively farm.
    Warm hands turned cold that dawn
    Within the icy grip of the inevitable.
    The footsteps that followed,
    Leaving behind a beautiful home
    Never returned to sow one last seed of faith
    To be reaped with tender care
    By little hands when he's gone.

    Strange was the death!
    A deep sigh I breathed,
    As I witnessed a world falling apart
    But there lies a hollow oasis
    Amidst a dried, shattered world.
    Looming shadowed lines;
    Of existence, growth and sorrow
    Forming a perfect silhouette
    Of a cycle of life.