A twinkle in her eyes.


She picked her suitcase,
And walked some miles.
Memories packed in there,
Some music, some smiles.

When at the airport, as she opened her diary to write,
Her pen refused to scribble, her words seemingly in a block.
She closed her eyes for some time,
Light tears in her eyes, time taking stock.

He walked to her and asked if all was okay,
She stared at him, as his eyes made her shy.
She opened her mouth to answer that question,
And shut it the next second, wondering about the stranger and his why.

She walked away with her luggage and her book all too suddenly,
Leaving him with his question and bewilderment.
That man with his concerns and genuineness,
That lady with her suspicions, and a TWINKLE IN HER EYES 😉

– Stuti

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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

Blue.


Blue,  the colour of fantasy,
Albeit a pink for some.
Blue, the water, crystal clear,
Albeit the not-so-blue one.

The sky a blue, or bluish black maybe,
It’s all out there, and wide, so wide.
And blue is that patch of glue,
She accidentally but happily, spurted  on the aisle 😉

He likes the blue, and she likes it for him,
He wants his walls blue, and so she blue- tints all the glass around them.
She but hates the other blues, and so he handles them for her,
His happy blues, her not-so-happy ones.

Blue is a colour, not once does he think beyond that,
She but works all around it, though not many times deliberating at that!
And so they knit their story blue- his colour, her situation,
A common thread in the love, a reason for no reason, and yet reasons UNSPOKEN.

– Stuti

Her friends. Her family.


She wanted to be happy for her,
But something somewhere stopped her.
She wanted to be dancing with her,
But something somewhere didn’t let her.

She instead wanted to sit down in a corner,
Unaware of her own self.
She instead wanted to loose herself,
And then make a plan to find herself back.

But they pulled her out of it,
All of them together.
And they made her smile at life,
Her friends. Her family. They couldn’t let her SHATTER.

– Stuti

The Last Evening.


It was the year a lot had happened
But she’d forgotten to maintain its accounts.
It was the year she’d vowed she’d end happy,
But she wasn’t keeping tabs.

2013 came, and went by just like that,
Adding another yester- year,
Adding another jingle to the memory,
Adding another chapter to the life story.

A lot had been achieved,
And yet so much more was up for grabs.
A lot had been missed,
And yet her achievements had received many claps.

Now she decided not to plan the next year,
She wanted it all spontaneous.
All surprises, no structure,
But milestones nonetheless, for these were the NECESSARY OBVIOUS.

– Stuti

Twisted affairs.


Dreaming about it,
And then reaching there too.
Working for it,
Until the achievement becomes true.

She called them all-
Twisted affairs of luck.
Clashing, clinking, rattling along,
Each time acting hero, being a pluck.

Yet friends come along,
Making it all comfortable.
And also being the sole reason
Of discomfort, small talk, subtle battles, emotional tussle.

Calling this mess ‘salted bananas’,
She wishes she can put her mind to rest.
For thinking about it all is too much pressure,
Especially when facing them is a reason for ENOUGH STRESS.

– Stuti

Colour-less.


Through the clouds,
Tearing past the fog,
Like a shrill whistle,
Did the sun shine.

The light that day was dim,
The sun did not want to be loud,
There was mist everywhere,
All seemed gloomy without a doubt.

All was either grey, black or white,
No other colour seemed sound,
It was as if nature had been robbed of its tastes and color,
Mother Nature also sadly frowned.

Not even the colorful seemed to add colour,
Her eyes shallow, there was a lump in her throat,
For it was actually the air that was drab that day and nothing made sense,
Like an excited overseas parcel, but unseemingly containing only an EMPTY NOTE!

– Stuti

Green.


She dared some dares,
Not just for the sake of it.
She spoke some truths,
Those probably only for the sake of it.

She had a voice,
And she intended to use it loud.
But not just in a moment of unthought hurry,
She wanted it to be a meaningful spur, not just a hollow growl.

She calculated all her moves to be right,
Still played along sometimes.
Her misses genuine, her targets sure,
She now needed a plan to get past the gaps and the frights.

Only one thing she could not beat-
That thing called ‘love’, that thing called ‘care’.
For even though it may seem otherwise and sometimes one may so make it seem,
It made her face it all around, in a colour greener than the GREENEST GREEN.

-Stuti