Happiness ?


She looks outside,
And the rainy smell of soil makes her happy.
She walks outside,
And the little girls doing their waltz make her smile.

She seeks to write a prose on ‘happiness’,
Or the ingredients nonetheless?
Albeit the knowledge her heart already carries,
And the constituents her mind already knows.

Her thoughts wander to words and idioms all across,
And her ideas want to be the most innovative with words.
So she probes a little more into definitions, and the art of writing,
Though already knowing what to know.

She writes, and rubbishes drafts each passing day,
And yet captures what she finally concludes-
‘Happiness’ is a virtue sans a universal definition,
It is simply that something, that makes one smile despite the varying tones and OVERTONES OF THE RESPECTIVE ūüôā

– Stuti

Another milestone.


She lives in that moment and refuses to move,
Very firm, right there.
She breathes every moment, and lets it all settle on her,
Breathing in all of it, content that she does.

They came and she saw them coming,
Still determined to stand against the tide they were.
They called for her, out loud there,
She heard them, not really understanding the meaning of all that was said.

This- her story, her plight, her life,
Surprisingly, she accepts and expects no sympathies or smiles.
Having no regrets to the slight, she strides on, slinging on her purse high,
Walking away, to yet ANOTHER MILESTONE, ANOTHER STORY.

– Stuti

A winter love.


That year as the winters approached,
It became cold like it always did.
Sweaters were out, mufflers galore,
Winds loud and chilled.

The fog made it white and bland,
Even if beautiful because of the blur.
The stars all fought for attention,
For the fog hid them from the pretty sighing girl.

There but seemed to be a warmth around,
It was different, new and nice.
A glow in the eyes, a red blush on the cheeks,
They seemed to be competing, those age old rivals- THE LANGUAGE OF LOVE AND WINTERS OF THE WISE!

– Stuti

A party?


Sometimes words are the best cover up there is,
And smiles mean a million things.
Eyes are a reflection of emotions,
And words need no speaking.

When the universe conspires to make everything perfect,
And when the imperfect seems perfect too,
When its too bright to stare at the stars,
And yet starry are the eyes that woo.

Those moments she wants to clutch, and not let go of,
Those moments she wants to preserve in memory and logs everywhere.
For, words and smiles, and stars and the moon, are all going to a party she’s told,
And as her heart flutters in a tune, she’s out to ENJOY IT TOO!

– Stuti

Melodrama.


She learnt a new word every single day,
But today was different in a different way.
She played time all the time,
And now time seemed to have strung a chime.

The coordinated notes of life and world,
Unplanned roads, no story unheard.
A leaf so green, it looked pale now,
An answer so obvious, with no question, oh how!

So many colours, the rainbow seemed confused,
She picked a colour, though they all missed the classic hues.
She looked left, then right, and danced the road,
Not realising in the slight, that she carried but some load.

What added zing though, and some angle too,
Was a hope, a story, a reality – blessed and true.
Life is a melodrama, with notes high, low, and fake all at once,
To dance to them, and not shy away, is the trick, a choice, a NOTEWORTHY NUANCE.

-Stuti

Confident.


What gave her confidence, was a smile.
A confidence fuelled by a promise:
The promise though really, was only a big fat hope,
Eh! And no one actually told her that!
She hoped the promise would work,
She promised herself, a confidence in the planned.
So once sorted with her hopes of a good plan and promises of confidence,
She was there- ready to set out in that world they called a ‘stage’:
She was going to play all characters, or at least help others play their roles,
She would hand them their props appropriate to the scene and theme,
She would wear make-up and masks to animate the shows too.
All to make sure, that people who mattered, all smiled.
All to make sure, that there were enough people who mattered.
All to make sure, that the enough had been a good number, and was enough too;
All to make sure, that she could sign off peaceful, happy, and CONFIDENT.

-Stuti

Nostalgic-an!


At the time when I started writing this piece for the blog, I started with the intention to write about ‚Äėtime‚Äô. But as I did continue writing, my thoughts were directed more towards the unavoidable feeling of ‚ÄėNOSTALGIA‚Äô, due to more than one reasons- the primary being, a blog post by my bestie (can be read here http://tanya-das.blogspot.in/2014/09/a-home-called-hostel.html?showComment=1410413176622#c6871874135258170274 ).

Though I myself and in my head, knew the definition of ‚Äėnostalgia‚Äô, I still decided to refer to a dictionary for a better direction in writing this here. Surprisingly enough, it explained the word in just the same manner as I had thought it to be-‚Äú¬†wistful¬†desire¬†to¬†return¬†in¬†thought¬†or¬†in¬†fact¬†to¬†a¬†former¬†time¬†in¬†one’s life,¬†to¬†one’s¬†home¬†or¬†homeland,¬†or¬†to¬†one’s¬†family¬†and¬†friends;¬†a sentimental¬†yearning¬†for¬†the¬†happiness¬†of¬†a¬†former¬†place¬†or¬†time‚ÄĚ. And in a more human, sentimental, and expression-ist manner, it can be defined as that sentiment or feeling that gives you the same shiver that it gave you at the time that incident happened. When attacked by this beautiful beast called nostalgia, you can suddenly feel the warmth of that hand on your hand, you smile at the joke that was cracked probably an year ago, your eyes become moist thinking of that broken pencil which but broke when you were in primary school, you feel the goosebumps of the declaration of your graduation results, and the sadness of the first job rejection! Such is the power of this one word sentiment, that it can suddenly send you on a roller coaster of events that moved you in your life, without that much debated invention of the time machine, and yet a travel back in time, only with respect to feelings and emotions.

Now a few days back, I met this gentleman, who I would like to term as, a nostalgia- critic. He said he believed in living only in the present, and that nostalgia made one weak. He claimed to be living only in the present, and that his life had no place for nostalgia or any emotion of the like. I respect his position as he put it, and yet do not agree with his line of thought. In my opinion, it is totally upon the person travelling into nostalgia, to make such feeling his strength. It is in fact a privilege that we have the opportunity to go back in time, and once again feel those moments, even if it sometimes means that we will re-live a fear. For me, nostalgia as I see it, is a feeling that strengthens, and not many can brave the emotion with a smile. For those who can, I call them- ‚ÄėNostaligic-ans‚Äô ūüėČ

So here we go, my happy message to this world- Enjoy each moment you live, smile when you can and cry when you must, and just every now and then, do soak in that moment of nostalgia, for it will give you the strength to go that extra mile and create another moment to be nostalgic about!

A shade that somehow pushes me to an area of 'nostalgia'

A shade that somehow pushes me to an area of ‘nostalgia’

– Stuti

P.S. I hope my experiments by my own life translate into many moments of nostalgia in the future ūüôā

Her smile.


They called her strong,
For she smiled through the tears.
They called her weak,
For she smiled, but she cried.

They said she was brave,
For she smiled when catastrophe struck.
They said she was a coward,
For she only smiled when catastrophe struck.

They said she was happy,
For she smiled all the time.
They said she was sad deep inside,
And her smiles were only a cover- up.

Confused, I asked her how she felt,
Why she smiled, and that too at everything.
Her reply baffled me, and still echoes my heart-
“ I smile because its beautiful, in the hope that it will touch hearts.
And this is how I play life- fooling it at its own GAME, TACTIC, AND ART. ‚ÄĚ

– Stuti