Poetry by Sarojini Naidu : Indian Love Song

She

LIKE a serpent to the calling voice of flutes, 
Glides my heart into thy fingers, O my Love! 
Where the night-wind, like a lover, leans above 
His jasmine-gardens and sirisha-bowers; 
And on ripe boughs of many-coloured fruits 
Bright parrots cluster like vermilion flowers. 


He

Like the perfume in the petals of a rose, 
Hides thy heart within my bosom, O my love! 
Like a garland, like a jewel, like a dove 
That hangs its nest in the asoka-tree. 
Lie still, O love, until the morning sows 
Her tents of gold on fields of ivory. 
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The Road Not Taken BY ROBERT FROST


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
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A Style Of Loving by Vikram Seth

Light now restricts itself
To the top half of trees; 
The angled sun
Slants honey-coloured rays
That lessen to the ground
As we bike through
The corridor of Palm Drive
We two

Have reached a safety the years
Can claim to have created:
Unconsumated, therefore
Unjaded, unsated.
Picnic, movie, ice-cream; 
Talk; to clear my head
Hot buttered rum - coffee for you; 
And so not to bed

And so we have set the question
Aside, gently.
Were we to become lovers
Where would our best friends be? 
You do not wish, nor I
To risk again
This savoured light for noon's
High joy or pain. 
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Excerpt : The Fault in Our Stars


“There will come a time, when all of us are dead. All of us. There will come a time when there are no human beings remaining to remember that  anyone ever existed or that our species ever did anything. There will be no one left to remember Aristotle or Cleopatra, let alone you. Everything that we did and built and wrote and thought and discovered will be forgotten and all of this”—I gestured encompassingly—“will have been for naught. Maybe that time is coming soon and maybe it is millions of years away, but even if we survive the collapse of our sun, we will not survive forever. There was time before organisms experienced consciousness, and there will be time after. And if the inevitability of human oblivion worries you, I encourage you to ignore it. God knows that’s what everyone else does.”
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A Farewell by William Wordsworth



FAREWELL, thou little Nook of mountain-ground,
Thou rocky corner in the lowest stair
Of that magnificent temple which doth bound
One side of our whole vale with grandeur rare;
Sweet garden-orchard, eminently fair,
The loveliest spot that man hath ever found,
Farewell!--we leave thee to Heaven's peaceful care,
Thee, and the Cottage which thou dost surround.

Our boat is safely anchored by the shore,
And there will safely ride when we are gone;
The flowering shrubs that deck our humble door
Will prosper, though untended and alone:
Fields, goods, and far-off chattels we have none:
These narrow bounds contain our private store
Of things earth makes, and sun doth shine upon;
Here are they in our sight--we have no more.

 Sunshine and shower be with you, bud and bell!
For two months now in vain we shall be sought:
We leave you here in solitude to dwell
With these our latest gifts of tender thought;
Thou, like the morning, in thy saffron coat,
Bright gowan, and marsh-marigold, farewell!
Whom from the borders of the Lake we brought,
And placed together near our rocky Well.
We go for One to whom ye will be dear;
And she will prize this Bower, this Indian shed,
Our own contrivance, Building without peer!
--A gentle Maid, whose heart is lowly bred,
Whose pleasures are in wild fields gathered,
With joyousness, and with a thoughtful cheer,
Will come to you; to you herself will wed;
And love the blessed life that we lead here.
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The sumo wrestler : Excerpt from The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari


As this sumo wrestler starts to move around the garden, he finds a shiny gold stopwatch which someone had left behind many years earlier. He slips it on, and falls to the ground with an enormous thud. The sumo wrestler is rendered unconscious and lies there, silent and still. Just when you think he has taken his last breath, the wrestler awakens, perhaps stirred by the fragrance of some fresh yellow roses blooming nearby. Energized, the wrestler jumps swiftly to his feet and intuitively looks to his left. He is startled at what he sees. Through the bushes at the very edge of the garden he observes a long winding path covered by millions of sparkling diamonds. Something seems to instruct the wrestler to take the path, and to his credit, he does. This path leads him down the road of everlasting joy and eternal bliss. 

~Robin Sharma
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Its Over




He and she, in the middle of a heavenly adorable park,

Talking nonsense, still close to heart;

Making beats faster than a bullet train;

Small smiles on both burnished and curious faces,

Wanted to hear something more or less,

They’d waited for their whole life,

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And baby, I hate to say it― Marilyn Monroe


“This life is what you make it. No matter what, you're going to mess up sometimes, it's a universal truth. But the good part is you get to decide how you're going to mess it up. Girls will be your friends - they'll act like it anyway. But just remember, some come, some go. The ones that stay with you through everything - they're your true best friends. Don't let go of them. Also remember, sisters make the best friends in the world. As for lovers, well, they'll come and go too. And baby, I hate to say it, most of them - actually pretty much all of them are going to break your heart, but you can't give up because if you give up, you'll never find your soulmate. You'll never find that half who makes you whole and that goes for everything. Just because you fail once, doesn't mean you're gonna fail at everything. Keep trying, hold on, and always, always, always believe in yourself, because if you don't, then who will, sweetie? So keep your head high, keep your chin up, and most importantly, keep smiling, because life's a beautiful thing and there's so much to smile about.” 

― Marilyn Monroe
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Keat's Poetry: TO AUTUMN#2


  Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
    Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
  Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
    Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
  Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
    Drows’d with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
      Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
  And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
    Steady thy laden head across a brook;                                      
    Or by a cyder-press, with patient look,
      Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.
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Keat's Poetry: ODE TO A NIGHTINGALE#2


O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
    Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,
  Tasting of Flora and the country green,
    Dance, and ProvenƧal song, and sunburnt mirth!
  O for a beaker full of the warm South,
    Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
      With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
          And purple-stained mouth;
    That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
      And with thee fade away into the forest dim:
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Palanquin Bearers by Sarojini Naidu

Lightly, O lightly we bear her along,
She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;
She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream,
She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream.
Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.

Softly, O softly we bear her along,
She hangs like a star in the dew of our song;
She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide,
She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride.
Lightly, O lightly we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string. 
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Keat's Poetry: TO AUTUMN#1


 Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
    Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
  Conspiring with him how to load and bless
    With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
  To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
    And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
      To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
  With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
    And still more, later flowers for the bees,
    Until they think warm days will never cease,                            
      For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
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Keat's Poetry: ODE TO A NIGHTINGALE #1


My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
    My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
  Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
    One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
  ’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
    But being too happy in thine happiness,—
      That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
          In some melodious plot
    Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
      Singest of summer in full-throated ease.     
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Excerpt: By the River Piedra I Sat down and Wept


But it will be easy to be in control because I'm not too emotional, I thought. Anyone who
can conquer her heart can conquer the world.
Con un poema y un trombĆ³
a develarte el corazĆ³n
To lose my heart to you with a poem and a trombone. I wish I didn't have to control my
heart. If I could surrender, even if only for a weekend, this rain falling on my face would
feel different. If love were easy, I would be embracing him now, and the words of his
song would be our story. If Zaragoza weren't waiting for me after the holidays, I'd want
to stay drunk and be free to kiss him, caress him, say the things and hear the things that
lovers say and do to each other.
But no! I can't. I don't want to.
Salgamos a volar, querida mia, the song says.
Yes, let's fly away. But under my conditions.

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Classics: I do not love you except because I love you by Pablo Neruda

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood. 
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The Forgotten Track, Part-1


Life does not go the way we had expected.  Everyone wants to live their dream life and they work hard day and night for achieving everything that gives them all happiness of the world. He also expected much more from himself and his life. Last Friday, he fired from his job for constantly coming late in the office and not completing an important assignment. He doesn't reach his house that evening neither at any other relative’s place. Instead he chose to be at a 5 star lounge bar so that he can celebrate all his failures from job to soul mate. He could cry as much as he can, shout as loud as he can, nobody will hear him or soothe him. He didn't know why everything was happening with him. With each glass of alcohol he was galloping the more he thinks about that ugly truth of his life and family-his wife. The so called family where she doesn't care to talk him about his life or anything else that makes him feels good. They were not talking to each other for last 2 months but living at same place. She was living there on an agreement between them for not interfering in each other’s life. He agreed maybe he might thought that all the love that is lost might develop between them again. He remembers how she started coming late in the night or not coming at all. He even was not allowed to ask the reason for anything. He was not living but dying every day….
...to be continued.
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I am Nakul Verma, the name given to me by my parents at the time of my birth without actually consulting me. Obviously I like my name…unlike those earlier days of my childhood…when the TV was on for the serial MAHABHARATA, I started complaining about my name because there was a character in MAHABHARATA named Nakula who was very elderly looking with heavy moustaches on his face unlike Krishna, clean-shaven and Young . I hate that character and so my name Nakul.

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Short Story-The Unexpected Proposal


As I switched on my phone, cluster of messages started attacking my phone.
23 messages received!
These all messages were from a single person, Vaibhav. I just landed at Agra after having a decent business trip in Singapore. He was going to marry today and he wanted me with him at any cost. Actually that business trip was not planned but it was an emergency and I have to cope with that. As I was about to reply him, my mobile screen blushed
Vaibhav Calling!
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Life Between Pixels


These tiny pygmy pixels,
Bit by bit covering everything all around;
From snaps to paintings,
And very soon, us.
The relationships connecting us will be in pixels too;
And at last,
We end up finding our entire lives between pixels;
Megapixels, Gigapixels and Terapixels.
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ARE YOU HAPPY?


He has lived so long because of her, without her. Promises are to keep and he is determined just for her to live in any situation without her. He also promised himself to be loyal to her in every moment of life.
Even destiny play mysterious games yet pleasant. After eleven years of separation, both met accidently in a mall. They never thought of meeting again even in their bad dreams, but destiny bring back to face each other. They once made infinite promises with each other, the last one was that they’ll never meet again in this life and will remain happy in their own world. She was with her husband and kids who were waiting for her down in the parking. After they met their gaze, there was dead silence all around. Both were facing each other with blank faces with no emotions, no greetings. NOTHING. Someone had to break the silence and she finally asked about his life and his family. A long ago, He also made a promise that he can thought of any girl in his life would be only she and no one else, but she might forget that too. A tear tickled from his eyes but said nothing. But he said everything without saying a word and made her understand everything clearly and there was dead silence again. He wanted to ask how her life treated her after him but he didn’t. He did not let the past ruin her present life.  After moments of dead silence, he looked into her eyes and breaks the silence with a question, “Are You Happy?”
Everything seemed dazzling to her. A million tears rolled down to her cheeks from her eyes. She wanted to say something in reply but her throat was chocked. As she was putting more pressure on her throat, more tears flowed from her eyes but no voice. At last, she left without saying a single word leaving a pond of tears behind making him understand everything.
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BECAUSE TIME HAS CHANGED…


Yes, nothing change but only time and it changed everything. Someone has rightly said that time is very powerful. I am the same ‘me’ and she is the same ‘her’. Yeah somewhat a little change in body physique and its natural because at that time we entered in teen age and now we are close to the finishing line of teen age. But except this everything is same. The same smiley face always ready to laugh even on silly things. The long black hairs with golden shade like unwanted plants between desired ones, her talking sense, her naughtiness, her craziness…everything is same.
 The only thing that changed is time. She laughs but not on my silly things, she talks in the same way but not with me, she is still naughty but no longer mischievous with me, she is still crazy but not for me.
 Although not intentionally but I have spoiled her, hurt her…it’s true. How you can ignore someone when everything is alright between you. How can you ignore someone who blindly trusts on you? How can you stop talking to a person whom you want to listen all the time without any reason? How can you be so rude to a person who is always sweet for you? How can you stop making call to a person who is endlessly waiting to hear you?
 But that was not intentional. It was just the odd time that made differences between me and her. Believe me I am not guilty…still it causing the feeling of guilt inside me.
 But I am guiltless….trust me. It’s just the bloody time that has changed.
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