The Universe Within a Galaxy

She doesn’t see her hands as
confining the etched lines
of definite hopes and dreams,
but the galaxy holding bright stars
of infinite possibilities.

Kritika Vashist

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Born To Fly

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This is subject to the thought on how women are sometimes expected to let go their dreams, or to put the needs of others before their own. This has nothing against the idea of marriage, but as observed, women, unwillingly give up on things they want to do, because they are compelled to live within the boundaries of marriage and responsibilities.

The next step after you have acquired the knowledge and resources is to put them to use, not to live with regrets of, “If I could have…”

Marriage is not the only event in life that is important and fulfilling. You were born to find yourself, to live the life you have been blessed with, and if that goes to waste, there is no meaning of life.

-Kritika Vashist

Glass of Wine

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Between my dreams and reality,
that sends shivers down my spine
my fears and hopes swim
like untold stories in a glass of wine.

All my implicit thoughts,
the desire to make you mine
all lie smoothly on the impression
of my lips on a glass of wine.

A sip of hopefulness,
a sip of helplessness,
tells my thoughts to recline,
alters the color of my eyes
while I talk to an affable glass of wine.

There is no song to play
no words on the blue line,
yet the heart weeps
as I drink another glass of wine.

– Kritika Vashist

(October, 2014)

Don’t Wake Me Up

A sketch by me.
Don’t Wake Me Up- A pencil sketch by me.

The stars outside are still dancing
at the tune of the drunken moon
peeping through the window at
my drained body weary of the
malevolence flashing in the
eyes of the so called innocents;

The tick-tick of the broken clock
contrastingly lying peacefully on
the side of my sympathetic bed is
still convulsing my brain freighted
with unspoken unheard thoughts
wanting the silence to fade them;

The demon in his phantom glow
hasn’t yet howled its wonted
lullabies of the slithering night
inviting him to invade my mind
and to cover my consciousness
with his brooding profundity;

The softness of my merciful pillow
hasn’t yet soaked all the tears of
the love lost amidst the doubts
and the memories from the past
appearing as dark as the night sky
secretly spacing them in its infinity;

Living within my own complexities
my unfulfilled incomplete dreams
blurry or vivid in the darkness
perfect or imperfect in meaning
that I save for these silent nights
haven’t yet whispered their song;

Above all,
Reflective of the pensiveness
the words falling down from
the vaulted heights of my mind
into the warmth of the quilt
haven’t yet marked down the
last verse of my unheralded
nameless poem of tonight;
so keep out, shut the door
and don’t wake me up
for the night is still in its
leisurely contemplation.

-Kritika Vashist

Lost In You

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Lost in you, the silent night,
where there is peace and seclusion,
where just my heartbeats are audible,
where remembrance of your love is antidote for distress.
I’m loving you, in silence.

Lost in you, dreamy eyes,
where forever our soul entwine,
where we promise to love evermore,
where you are the reason for my existence.
I am loving you, in dreams.

Lost in you, the fragrant quilt,
where I feel your terraces,
where you twine a wisp of my hair,
where our souls couple.
I am loving you, in fancy.

Lost in you, eloquent words,
where you obliquely call me beautiful,
where I throb in happiness,
where you portray our unceasing love.
I am loving you, in poems.

Lost in you, serendipitous ditty,
where broken lyrics string with flair,
where unmusical voice gives pleasure sensations,
where stars are more soothing than the moon.
I am loving you, in songs.

Lost in you, the perfect drizzle,
where we sense each other’s texture,
where the clean water taper the friction,
where the music is pitter-patter of raindrops.
I am loving you, in rains.

Lost in you, the unembellished window,
where I feel the warmth of your eyelids,
where sunbeam makes you shimmer artistically ,
where the glass captures the real adoration.
I am loving you in lights and shadows.

Lost in you, the wondrous painting,
where my name forms the colours,
where a single word completes the picture,
where the thick ink fails to clog the outline.
I am loving you, in delineation.

Let me remain lost in you,
let me keep loving you;
for your love is heavenly!

-Kritika Vashist

(Feb, 2014)


(So, Arpita, a fellow blogger who nominated me for Libester Award asked me about my favorite post/poem, and I had realized that I haven’t share it with all of you. This is the poem I had written last year and is my favorite for some unknown reason. I just like it the way it is. )


When Death Took Her Away

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Tears down the face making way to his dry lips.
The choked voice trying to call her back.
Breath stopped; love unceased.

Beatific creases unfolding permanently.
Eyes abandoning every dream without her.
Broken heart; memories etched.

The death holding her, uncompromisingly.
The life leaving him, concomitantly.
Hands separated; souls coupled.

-Kritika Vashist

Heart Like Ours

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She pulled back the dull colored curtains and looked outside the window. The street was empty and the dim glow of the light covered it like lusterless black hair. There were things to notice, but only if she has dared to move out from borders and horizon lines. In silence she had failed to shut the noises speaking loud inside her and keeping empty beds elsewhere.

She turned around and looked herself at the fading mirror. The one that showed real her, with no twinkling in her eyes as it appeared to some. Nothing here is what it seems, she thought as she gazed at herself. She leaned slightly towards the mirror and touched her skin that had become pale and flowered lips that had dried. How the death of the only man who loved her, the only man she loved, left her half awake and almost dead.
She touched her reflection and contemplated her body in the mirror.
Could we try to reinvent?” she heard a voice coming from her reflection.
Maybe it was time to answer the soul’s knock and to listen to her inner wisdom.

“I’ve been climbing up the wall with you,” she cried as the air of melancholy rushed through the window.
“There’s an animal inside. There’s a fear that won’t subside, of all the things I’ll never do. Will I ever follow through?” She continued her cry.

Death separates bodies not love. And love gives strength to overcome any fear; strength to dream and to rebuild ourselves. The reflection conveyed to her about the strength of love.

“Feed the head with common sense. Leave this place behind, in silence. And the weight we find inside us.
Lead me to the edge of night.
Till the dawn,
The end of time,
Till the fire blazing light,
Shines again within our eyes,”
the reflection sang to her as the wind inside the room played the music.

She had perceived the truth. She became conscious of the fact that pain subsides when love breathes around.

We’re yet to bleed.
We’re yet to dream.
All the time and energy,”
and the voice vanished into the thin air, and the reflection had that shine in the eyes.

“Heart like ours is impossible to separate and so does our love”, she spoke in a whisper.

-Kritika Vashist

(Song by The Naked and Famous, Heart like ours)

You may read on Comfortably numb, Stairway to heaven and don’t write me off just yet, here : https://krivashist.wordpress.com/category/my-story-your-song/