"Helpless angels"

When humans sold their conscience,

fear ruled, the angels felt helpless,

world went topsy turvy,

the angels kept a watch

helplessly.

Their wings entrapped,

in the dramatical phases

of illusionary life,

the earth shaken and stirred,

angels were assigned the tasks,

to save humanity.

.

Fables often portray angels 

as the blessings from above,

who come down on earth,

spreading their wings.

They look like 

illusionary beings.

A fragment of imagination,

of the great minds.

.

Amongst the humans,

known, unknown,

Instilling hope,

in hopelessness, 

to restore faith

in the goodness,

when self belief shatters, 

love seems lost,

chaos overpowers

 the calm waters,

 when humanity dearth,

we find these god sent messengers,

roaming on the realms of earth.

-payalagarwal

"String of life"

Colours of rainbow

dissolved in the moments,

strewn in the string of life, 

to form intricate patterns,

with each breath,

spiralling through 

different phases,

while painting life.

-payalagarwal

Day 7

#7daysalspoetryandprosechallenge

Till I breathe my last

 The days awaken

to the sunlit wonders,

sunkissed dreams

twinkle in the eyes,

filling our cups to the brim.

Love overflows.

.

Singing the songs of love,

written with fragrant breath,

the nights surrender

to the raindrops,

hearts entwine,

embracing the 

magnificence

of the moments.

.

When the last song of love,

will be inked with morning dew,

With the last breath,

we'll sing it together,

with heartfelt gratitude.

-payalagarwal

Day 6 #7daysalspoetryandprosechallenge

"All characters are fictitious."

In a novel, or a movie, 

"All characters are fictitious."

flowing out of the writer's pen,

playing the roles 

assigned to them,

Some are felt close to life,

Some seems distant.

.

 In a spur of a moment,

they feel real 

as we sit with them, 

and know them closely.

.

The characters that

influence us 

tells a lot about 

the ongoing trend.

.

We sit, watch, observe

all the characters,

some become our favourite,

some we find difficult to connect with.

We forget they were

just playing their roles.

Their vulnerabilities are hidden

behind the curtains.

.

In this drama of life,

we are assigned the roles,

that we play,

comfortably

In our skin

till the curtain drops.

Time keeps testing 

our strength.

Experiences change us.

The lessons delivered 

are real.

.

Be original

Be real

Be who you are..

Pure and simple.

-payalagarwal

Day 5 #7daysalspoetryandprosechallenge

A wish to live..

When reverberating energies from afar,

throbs in the valley of hearts,

and the river beds are calm and quiet,

floating symbols and omens, 

emerge from the lakes of pure consciousness,

the fire is recognised,

air fills the gaps,

as the galaxies rise in the space,

within.

When life echoes in wilderness,

and soft tendrils awaken on the vines,

A wish to live a life, in gratitude,

gracefully emerges with strong will,

trusting instincts.

-payalagarwal

#Day4 #7daysalspoetryandprosechallenge

"The morning will come again"

When eclipsed and 

obscured with 

unreasonable doubts,

Dark nights seems darker,

Remember...

It all gets better.

"The morning will come again"

with a sunshine glow,

orbiting in the periphery

of hope and faith,

uplifting the spirit,

wrapped with the warmth,

of nature's soothing touch.

It might come 

as a drizzling calm,

with a gentle breeze,

embalming the earth,

and enriching the soil,

with love.

Remember....

It all gets better!

-payalagarwal

Day 3 #7daysalspoetryandprosechallenge

"Caravan of memories."

It all starts with just a thought.

A single word, or a known phrase,

A song, a scene, a journey, even weather,

A feeling of deja vu,

It starts right there,

with anything and everything,

that puts us in a state of trance.

.

One after another, 

memories unfold,

from the deepest core,

like a caravan.

.

Memories

sweet and sour,

Some bittersweet too,

fondly remembered,

or wisely forgotten,

it all built up the life lived.

Moments of past.

chiseled and polished

with tools of time.

.

A life till date,

lived, experienced, cherished.

It all makes sense when 

we look back to see everything

happening in perfect divine order.

 Caravan of memories rush in,

 a bag of mixed emotions

is emptied to be savoured.

Trust the flow.

-payalagarwal

 #7daysalspoetryandprosechallenge

Day 2

Someday, Somewhere

Someday, somewhere,

we'll meet again,

at crossroads,

drenched and drained 

with heartfelt emotions,

singing the rain song.

We'll look into each other's eyes,

and read the scripts 

imprinted on our hearts,

eons ago,

 finding home in each other's soul.

The dreams unrealized 

would burst as tears.

Rainbows would shine in teardrops.

Will you remember me till then?

Until that day, 

I have a little more to pray for.

Someday somewhere,

No one would fight 

for their part of land.

Peace would reign.

It has to start,

someday,

somewhere,

for the earth to become

a better, safer place,

where smiles 

would flourish

on the weary faces,

where I am just a passer by.

How about..right here, in the now?

-payalagarwal

 #7daysalspoetryandprosechallenge

Day 1 

Weaving name into a poem..

Poetry Awakens,Yellow Afar Lay .AsleeP

A sense of relief, evoking pure nostalgiA

Yearlong  restlessness subsides todaY

An overwhelming feeling of euphoriA

Lavender love blooms stilL

.

Aromatic world painted in tones sepiA.            

                                            -Payal.A

-payalagarwal

 #Day30 #TSL #NaPoWriMo2021

Prompt by Uiba Mangang 

Here I rest my pen for some time with gratitude to each one of you who read my poems, and stayed in touch throughout the month. 

Stay safe, and take care.❤️

Convocations

 Convocations

Lessons and teachings remain the same,
what we absorb and how, makes all the difference. Starting from the scratch, all that is learnt is rewarded. Musical symphony blends with the heartbeat. Colourful springs create the vibes.

Meditations
Thoughts appear in crisscrossed patterns. Looking up, the temple gate is half closed.
Taking the steps never taken before,
realisation dawns, the steps that bring you where you are, also takes you where you want to go. Inhaling, exhaling, on a journey, standing there, with pauses in between, an observer observes one's own life.

Lamentations
Lamenting over the losses, feeling all the pain, anxiety rules. Heart beats faster, hitting the rock bottom in the deepest core, oil in the lamp keeps burning, flame flickers many a times. Amidst fear of unknown , butterflies in the stomach, it seems all dark, a familiar voice becomes the guide.

Revelations
A hand invisible to hold, it's always there.
You know there is nothing to fear.
When the feeling of being lost overpowers,
words of wisdom you hear.
By God's grace, the truth of being, reveals itself, in its own space and time.

Celebrations
It's time to celebrate. Why not? Understanding the value of life, and value of each breath, we keep moving.
Springing back to life, let's celebrate. Being alive in itself is enough reason for celebration.

Incantations
Offering gratitude, praying for the world, temple bells ring, we come back to our senses, walking with acceptance, being on the path, mapping our journey back home, with trust and love.
-payalagarwal 

Day 29 of TSL #NaPoWriMo 

prompt by Dr. Koshy 

 Journey of grief divided into five parts based on Sufjan Stevens latest music. 

"Oft I think"

Oft I think,

from where do these thoughts come.

They stay for a couple of moments,

and then they vanish. 

Sometimes they become poems,

Sometimes they tell stories.

.

For sure, it is true,

The poem we created in the past,

That poem is creating us now.

It is lighting up the thorny path 

with the lamp of hope.

Path is destined,

so are the destinations.

I feel blessed,

my poems chose me.

Otherwise, just like that, 

words were scattered,

like fragrance in the atmosphere..

Scattered pearls accumulated

in a few words 

..like poetry.

-payalagarwal

"अक्सर सोचती हूँ"

अक्सर सोचती हूँ

 ये ख्याल कहाँ से आते हैं

दो पल ठहरकर

 फिर खो जाते हैं

 कभी कविताएं बन जाते हैं

कभी किस्से सुनाते हैं

 सच ही तो है

अतीत के पन्नों में

 जिस कविता को कभी हमने रचा

 आज वो कविता हमें रच रही है

 काँटों भरी राहों पर

 आस का दीप जला रही है

 रास्ता तय है

और मंज़िलें भी

 सौभाग्यशाली हूँ

मेरी कविताओं ने मुझे चुना

 वरना शब्द तो यूँ भी बिखरे थे

फ़िज़ा में खुशबू की तरह..

 बिखरे हुए मोती जैसे

 सिमट गए कुछ लफ़्ज़ों में..

नज़्मों की तरह ~पायल 

TSL #NaPoWriMo2021 #Day28

Translation of my hindi poem

Maybe they had their reasons

When harsh words deepened the cracks,

Something didn't feel right within.

I was hurting.

 I, asked them all, 

they all said, "Forget it, move on. 

Maybe they had their reasons."

 I saw them all 

 doing the same in simplicity.

 Forgiving, forgetting,

 and moving on.

 I wonder, if they had their

  reasons too, 

 for listening, and not objecting.

.Fragments of broken 

shiny metallic pot

scatter on the floor,

Thousands of reflections

shine through them.

A part of me stayed there,

with self inflicted pain,

burning in the fire of guilt, 

of not understanding 

their side of the story.

Priceless were the years,

that went down the drain,

Pristine were sparkling tear drops, 

that blended with the rain.

"Maybe they had their reasons."

and then.. 

a pattern created

of

forgiving, 

forgetting, 

and 

to be changed,

so it 

doesn't happen again. 

Stepped upon, many a times, 

the bridges burnt, 

I hear you say, 

"Maybe they had their own reasons." 

I try to keep calm, 

I try to understand. 

Yes, the conditional response.

I try to relax. 

Nothing changes, 

on their part,

just a part of me, 

stoned.

Still, I agree.

They had their reasons.

.

In a huge circle, I was a small dot, 

shy, wondering, and aloof,

then one day I heard someone say,

"A line is a dot that went for a walk."

.... I became a line, and defined my boundaries.

They all questioned the change.

Maybe, I had my own reasons.

Noone understood.

Karmic consequences.

-payalagarwal  

Day 27 of #TSL #NaPoWriMo 

A letter to my future self

Hey you,

Yes you!

Stop for a moment,

and look at me,

I'm your past,

your younger self,

would you like

to talk to me?

.

Nothing much has changed,

Your smile remains the same,

the way you look,

the way you see,

your dreamy kohled eyes,

your destiny.

Do you still write of the moon and stars?

Do you still wish looking at the shooting star?

.

Do you go around, and paint the world,

with peace, hope, and love?

Tell me,

Are you where you wished to be?

Am I doing it right, 

tell me what you see!

.

Have you learnt to say "No"?

Does your heart still beats heavily?

Do you go numb when you feel others sufferings?

Do you still remember them who forgot you easily?

Does it still hurt you when people take you for granted, 

and you never see them around?

Or are you enjoying your company?

Do you still get angry when people lie to you?

Or do you look at them, 

figure it out, and just let them be?

I hope you are 

keeping your promise 

of togetherness.

and you are living happily.

Dancing your way out,

singing the songs of love

with love, without doubt.

-payalagarwal 

Prompt by Kashiana Singh

TSL NaPoWriMo Day 26

Past, Present, Future

Dealing with the writer's block,

I sit in silence, slowing down,

taking a pause.

.

Creatively working 

through the block,

looking around,

I see the things full of memories.

Tugged in heart, were the tales,

willing to be expressed,

a life willing to be led,

a dream waiting to be accomplished.

and then, time changed.

.

Time travels between

what was, what is, and what will be..

Moments melt into another.

Chiselled and carved,

we sit here with

the moments in hand,

creating a masterpiece.

.

Seeds sown in the past,

Grows into a flowering plant.

Fruits of labour.

.

In the blink of an eye,

situations become experiences,

Time passes by.

.

Dreams of yesteryears

come to fruition

in the present.

.

Past, present, future,

the different timelines,

shielded by 

the momentary realisations,

rule our choices.

Nothing happens

beyond HIS will.

.

Such is life.

.

Live.....right here....

in the now.

-payalagarwal

Erasure poem(blackout) Half hanged Mary

Door opens to the sunset.

There's talk of demons,

choking off words.

.

Blue skin, a weedy cure.

Knotted despair,

a heart to burst.

Inside out,

A temptation sinks

to give up pain.

Wind seethes 

in my fluttering cloth.

Like stabbed hearts,

I dangle with strength.

I call on you.

Birds burn.

.

Trust, why suffer?

I understand.

-payalagarwal

TSL NaPoWriMo 2021#Day24

"A lot can happen over coffee."

Two cups of coffee,

Cappuccino preferably,

with a pinch of cinnamon,

a little chocolate too,

one with a heart,

and another 

with a hint of nature,

exchanged,

a great proposal.

A little sugar,

added and

stirred,

it all blended

into sweet nothings.

.

Real time conversations,

moments shared,

memories created,

time just flies by

while holding on 

to each other,

and lifting spirits,

just in time.

.

Trust built,

in the space of no judgement,

secrets find their way out

from one heart to another,

fresh perspectives emerge,

strong bonds created.

.

Dreamy destination.

You and I,

just sit there,

holding hands,

looking into 

each other's eyes,

coffee turns cold.

.

Laughter riots..

A lot can happen over coffee.

-payalagarwal

TSL #NaPoWriMo #Day23 

Open your lips and sing

Dressed up in her saree,

wearing her dark Red lipstick, 

while lighting a diya,

she opened her lips,

 and sang a hymn.

How she wished 

she could sing.

"In next life, 

I wish to sing some tunes,

sing the tunes of gratitude. 

The greys, and the blues,

The greens, and the reds too.

Sing the chants, or the melodies,

ballads or lullabies,

but all perfectly."

.

Wish I had told her this,

"Don't hold back, your stories 

are the songs in making.

Find the courage,

Don't go.

Open your lips, and sing."

I wonder, if she 

would have found a breather,

and opened her lips, and sang,

wearing her favourite red lipstick,

that I applied with a weeping heart,

while performing her last rites.

.

While mourning her loss,

I open my lips,

and sing that hymn.

-payalagarwal

TSL#NaPoWriMo2021 #Day22

Ars Poetica- "Art of poetry."

I believe in me, I believe in you.

I believe easily.

Far from manipulated existence,

I write poetry.

Words are precious.

I believe in them too.

This is how I talk to myself, 

this is how I talk to you. 

This is how I learn 

a little more about myself,

a little more..

about you.

.

Emotions are sculpted into words,

exploring the mystical, 

magical realms, 

while soul searching,

or by just observing,

I catch them floating..

In my heart they form 

metaphorical patterns.

Rhymed, unrhymed,

they reach me.

Like relations,

sometimes it takes time 

for hearts to connect,

sometimes they connect easily.

and you ask me about art of poetry.

..

 I talk to myself. 

A lot. 

I write what I feel. 

Feel for me, for you, 

for everything and everyone.

Feelings keep fleeting by.

I care for them. Too much. 

...Feelings, sing to me,

in raw expressions, rhythmically.

I feel, therefore I am..

I feel, I am alive.

I observe, I write, I learn,

poetry.

.

There isn't a single thought that go wasted.

It's moulded and sculpted,

from the zone of nothingness to something.

If you choose to see. 

 I sometimes sit around 

a flowing river, 

just watching it. 

When my heart is full,

I gather pebbles, and come back.

 At times, 

I simply choose to go with the flow.

 .

I am human. I make mistakes.

I am not afraid of criticism.

I'm growing. Grateful.

Lots of i'sm here, 

but here I am not just me, 

I reflect you too.

We become poetry.

You know, 

poets hearts overflow with love.

 I feel you, I see you, 

I hear you, I live.

 For us, for you.

-payalagarwal

TSL #NaPoWriMo2021 #Day21

There are 55 words in every stanza.

A Minison poem

Sparkling sky.   

White moonlight.

Million of stars

shines in a verse. 

.

Nights are longer.

Amidst darkness,

love embraces us. 

Poetry is formed.

.

Morning Sun rise. 

Looking outside, 

for inspiration.

Flowering tales. 

All abstraction, 

full of meanings. 

-payalagarwal

Day20 #NaPoWroMo2021

It's all fourteen. Fourteen lines of fourteen letters each, or fourteen words..mini sonnet.

Shadorma : Mirrors never lie

Broken vase.

Succulents planted

in its place,

filling space,

naturally enchanted,

momentary phase.

.

Truth reflects.

Mirrors never lie.

Soul connects.

No regrets.

Purpose found, smiles multiply.

Grace in retrospect.

.

Do you know?

Broken pieces hurt.

Don't feel low.

Through it grow.

Oasis in the desert,

it exists, you'll know.

-payalagarwal

NaPoWriMo2021 #Day19 

Shadorma -a poetic form with syllable count of 3-5-3-3-5-7

Rhyming scheme: abaaba

Can be extended to any number of stanzas.