Her pinks and blues.


Humbled, she lowered her head involuntary,
A zillion thoughts running up there,
She took out time to smile at each.

Drained, she sunk into the nearest couch,
Not one moment feeling tired,
In fact enjoying the tickling pain, as if it was music.

Dazed, she saw something shine in a distance,
Thinking it was a star somewhere far,
Hoping it was a beautiful future though.

Amused, she played with every bit of it all,
Sometimes tired, jolted sometimes,
Juggling with time, space and emotions et al.

She walks the miles, and sails through some stretches,
And gallops through some bits too.
Her adventures, her experiences,
As she collects the material to pen her PINKS AND BLUES 😉

– Stuti

So many questions.


So many questions running in her head,
She smiles at the possibility of answers.
She questions the questions, and questions the answers,
She answers the answers to her questions too.

She shuts them up, and mums them down,
And then counts them, and re- counts to re- check the count.
She laughs at them, and cries for them too,
She seems confused at the questions now, too simple to be true.

They count their blessings, she counts her questions,
They check their smiles, her smiles question questions.
Her reasons to question, their reason to answer,
Her answers to their questions, only their SILENCE IN COUNTER.

– Stuti

Like crosswords.


She blinks because she must,
But only with a silent little prayer each time. 
She speaks to mean well,
And with that little hope every time.

There has been too much constant around, 
And then suddenly a flux.
And too much activity around,
But then sudden funny lull too.

The zig- zags of every thing,
The tic-tac-toes of every other,
The smiles of those who matter,
Like crosswords with hints on EVERY NUMBER?

– Stuti

A day in history.


That day in history,
When all that was around was shaken,
And all that was not around, seemed shook up too.

That day in history,
When she was a part of the day,
But she herself knew that she wasn’t there and then.

That day in history,
When the clock didn’t show any time,
Because, someone had reported the hands of time stolen!

That day in history,
When somehow it became clear that,
Only the present will be the future now, and that is pretty too.

That blessed day in history, when love lost a battle fighting love, but it was love that won too,
Where someplace else, love found true love and never called it a war,
Re-affirming the triumph of unwritten yet pre- decided,
Whims of destiny, which KNOWS IT ALL!

– Stuti