Featured

Twinkle lights…why oh why…

This is the post excerpt.


Fairy lights on a tree glittering away

Massive ships alight far far away

A diamond sparkling in the orange glow

Galaxies in the midnight sky so show

Fluorescence in the deep violet sea

Merriment reflected in eyes full of glee

My thoughts twinkle like these bewitching lights

Emerging from my deep conscience thrusting sleep aside

Oh to capture them like fireflies in a jar

Else vanish they will, world loses a glowing star….



Write I must

So thoughts don’t gather dust

Or fade away

Instead metamorphose

To

Riveting words, that will ever sway

Some of us are wanderers….

Some of us are wanderers….

Under pale blue skies 

Under the bright moon rise 

On days of ethereal highs

On days when the devil overhead flies 

Like an unstopped stream we flow 

Glide over peebles…catching snippets of their lore

A twirl, a skip, a bound…no weeds under our feet grow 

We ebb a little and in a gush we flow 

Impulse is our life’s sincere guide 

At times we flounder…yet dont hide 

As our soles weather under different tides 

Each diverse glistening sea shell…sparks our mind 

Wanderers we are….lacklustre we may seem 

As we pirouette and flex…testing different beams 

Yet if u wandered into our mind and dreams 

A shock of colours will explode in reams 

Every step of our wandering…every escapade

Adds jewels to our spirit of every shade

Creating humans so rich with every raid

Our life spreads out in an infinite braid

Some of us are wanderers…we gather no moss 

Living like may flowers…appreciating every flavour and sauce !! ❤️

Colour me chuckle (daily prompt) 

Payals falling on a cool marble floor

Favourite song playing, heart soars

Cold water splashed on a balmy face

Grainy sand runnig through fingers laced

 
I hear her chuckle

My lil girl, shiny shoes buckled

Dimples deepen, rosy lipes widen

Brown tresses suddenly awaken

I wish I could breathe her air

Fill my lungs with this free care

Trinkle with delight at simple ploys

Small pleasures beaded in strings of joy

Your giggles and squiggles will sketch my life 

With crayons and paints, colour me alive 

~Arohi ❤️
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/chuckle/

Frozen wait…


Anxiety….frozen lake on your chest

Green vines steadily squeezing breath

Puppet limbs…..lifeless slow

Mind in the darkest corners, wandering so

Can my burning hope set me free

Feel the vines burn to cinders in glee

Will a gleam of love light the corners 

Smoke flee with its bundle of horrors 

I know fresh vines await in the shadows

To steal up on my sunshine meadows 

Yet..seasons hop from frosty to golden hay

My rainbow awaits….at the edge of this moonless bay

Slow down my anxious quivering breath

Inhale the break of dawn, rising golden wreath 

~Arohi ❤️

I know a little girl…..


I know a little girl, with curls tamed into two long oiled plaits. A little girl who daydreamed till it confused with her reality. Who read books into the early morning mysterious hours till the lines blurred. Who sat at window sills seeing yet unseeing, building little tales around figurines going about their daily affairs. Who bought to life her mind’s characters behind the closed doors of her room. Who carried on the hum drum of daily life fueled by her wonderfully imaginative world to keep her blood pumping, nerve tingling company. 

Every single time, i cross the threshold of my maternal house, life breathes into this little girl. She tugs at my hand and shows me the sights. Through her senses, i feel, see, smell, hear and touch all that reined in her day. When she was the queen of her world and her mind. 

As i walk around, my hand trailing along walls and stairway banisters, she whispers sweet nothings, telling me about all that she was and all that is bubbling away inside of me. She urges me to do away with this self confessed worldly outer shell i have layered myself with. She begs me to let her run in my veins again. 

I am in awe of this little girl. My curls are now free of maternal plaits, yet my shoulder muscles are bunched with responsibilities. An excuse i use to free my hand of the little girls small urgent one. 

Yet…. she wont let go yet. She is my champion. A constant reminder in the form of my parents, well wishers and my lovely childhood home. She has also become fast friends with my little elf, who time and again makes me wistful with her words and deeds, yet unflavoured, at the mercy of nothing. 

Maybe…sum day….one day, as hope which dances forever…..we shall waltz together, the little girl and i…her little palm in mine, my hand on her shoulder, her’s on my waist….twirling twirling twirling, till our blurred images become one…

Here’s to the child in all of us….here’s to our wonder years dreams….may we never give up on them….❤

~Arohi ✨

Footprints that dont leave me…..❤

My elf carefully stepped into a clear puddle of water…heel to toe slowly immersed…she walked towards the car door leaving shiny shoe prints on the sidewalk. As i attempted to pull her in, she suprisingly resisted. Her answer to my complete look of astonishment, “my footprints wont leave me maa…….”

And so do mine, oh so reluctant to leave the lovely sleepy town of dahanu. 

Hosted by a family so dear to my heart, they created a web oh so silken and sweet, that my feet are ensnared in it for life. 

Footprints left in that beautiful house. Of high lumpy beds yet not quite reaching high ceilings. Of long stone hallways on which our little ones drew dreams with chalk. Of lazy swings which creaked with the weight of our drowsy selves. Of secretive attics and stained glass windows highlighting sun soaked hair in hues of reds, golds and greens. Of winds whistling through shutters and unfamiliar noises in the still night. Of elbows on little balconies staring at cobbled streets lined with houses out of a fairy tale. 

Footprints left on the sunset washed orange beach, cool sand sifting through toes, a balm for sore soles. Hopscotch, catch a crook creating a canvas of impressions…elven light, heavy trods, running feet balls and falling heels. Sea waves leaving wistful foams on arms and legs smudged by soapy bubbles cheerily blown by puckered lips. 

Footprints reluctant to leave the kitchen floor awash with orgasmic fragrances of hot piping panki between crackling dry leaves, freshly plucked vegetables in jeera fry and tongue tingling peculiar neera. Shoe prints in that gorgeous little cafe enticing with its inviting music, warm scrumptious goodies of hot baked bread and quaint corners filled with colourful books and lil blackboard with chalks emitting delightful cherubic cries. 

Footprints left amidst leaves strewn rudimetary pathways in farmlands rich with chickoo laden fragrances, sudden sights of golden sun streaming though shaded lustrous greens and finger licking sumptuous yet simple fare. Footprints following treacherous paths trodden more frequently by animals than humans. 

There are certain destinations, where we leave bits of ourselves, our soul behind. Places which we identify with, of which our myriad dreams are made of. And those true bits beckon us with little whisperings and tuggings at our heart and memories. This wonderful little picturesque town of dahanu feeds my imagination albeit at a lethargic pace. And time and again have i retraced my bare footprints to marinate in its soporific air as it houses that bit which mirrors my very self. 

Oh not too long, not too long

Walk back i shall

To where my self belongs…❤
~Arohi ✨

That piece of hithlain rope… ❤

This lovely piece of rope had captivated my lil one’s attention at a friends place and has now been installed in our very own (thanks to the very generous friend !)

Its a grey silver rope, water like sheen to its hue, silken to the touch, light as a feather yet sturdy as an ox. Takes me back to the elven rope in the lord of the rings…made of hithlain…mist thread…

It hangs in the middle of our room, on a stern hook. The only aerial item in the sea of things at ground level, yet neither forlorn nor lost. Knotted at regular intervals, it stands solid unswaying with breeze, yet swinging lil bodies to whooping heights. 

Every couple of hours, my cherub gloriously performs for her imaginary appreciative audience. She swings like the wind by, or twirls like a ballerina held high, or a puppet she is with strings attached, or a jungle adventure as trees blur by. 

Then one day on a whim, i decided to perform. My elf literally grows wings on it, making the idea quite fetching. 

The first time was positively nerve wrecking. I was airborne, knees curled upto my chest, hanging on to slippery silk with unaccustomed burning arms. On the swing back, i was terrorised enough to check whether i was to crashland. This after knowing the geography of my room like the back of my hand. My feet screeched on the brakes midway. 

After numerous tries, all i had to show was red angry palms and dispirited limp arms. My audience had evaporated along with my confidence and enthusiasm. 

I watched my miniature in enviable action and wondered why i couldnt. Sure she was light as a leaf and me uh well as a boulder !!…yet…i wondered…As I delighted in her euphoric facial muscles, I had my “eureka” moment.

Abandon….jiyaa swung with complete abandon….flicking off fears like ash, preconceived notions slithering off like snake skin….giving free rein to the rope, entwined in a graceful dance, every grey mound and curve now familiar to the dip and rise of her little palm. 

I relaxed my shoulders, shook off my anxiousness, chin up, curls back, palms around grey silk imagining them to be my husband’s strong secure hands and off i shot like an arrow released from a bow. 

Pure exhilaration….faces and lights twinkled by as i kissed that star in the sky…the wind my companion, the rope my guide…misty arms gliding me high…and then back to earth with a lustful sigh, the marble floor grounding feet spoilt by a few moments of weightless high…

With each swing, my arc grew wider, body weightless, as the last crust of anxiety peeled off. My eyes sparkled with glee, curls entangled yet free, lips frozen on wheeeeee…..The next day of course i couldnt even turn the steering of my car…i even willed the hand shower to come to life…yet i had finally experienced in my every fibre, the feeling of “weight off my shoulders and wind at my heels, flying off to heights unseen”…

Oh my lovely lil fiery one….i pray that you always live life with this same joyful abandon which will steer your course to unimaginable heights…may you swing higher with each silken hithlain rope…

Im putting it to practice now…baby steps to a childlike abandon…better late than never eh ☺…

~Arohi ✨

Soothers ❤

It was one of those nights when the quiet was claustrophobic, when sleep did not easily drown me in its inky depths, the seconds hand ticked hard in my ear, every sliver of light struck like a shard of ice. 
My head was throbbing, nausea threatening to envelop, tummy had a life of its own. I was sick to the stomach and close to devastated tears.

In the midst of my restless bed twisting, i suddenly felt my lil ones form stir. She took my hand, enclosed her lil closed palm in mine, turned around and fell asleep with my arm over her.

Sighing i settled in for a few miniutes to avoid waking her up. For a change i rested my forehead on her bony back. For a change i was the one seeking comfort. 

Before i knew it, her deep breaths, her tiny heart beats and her floral, soapy and slightly milky fragrance had lulled me into sleep. It was the most raw and basic form of soothing i have ever experienced. Her firm skin was cold marble on my feverish forehead. Her tiny fingers like smooth pebbles in a cool stream. Her slight form cuddled into mine was warm, yet magnificently alive. 

My condition did require medication at some point. Yet akin to our young selves craving our mother’s bossom or her cotton clad lap, so did my older self feel during those dark night hours. 

And this miniature version, provided it all in her innocence and tranquil elf form. As i felt her back heave and fall with each breath, each turn and twist in her spine leaving marks on my cheek, i marvelled at how one living form with just her mere presence could tranquilize a restless nauseated me. 

Its time we gave us humans, each other, more credit for curing, destressing…..for soothing…..

How a warm hug, an empathetic ear, a loving touch, a reassuring word, a kind act can heal the most tormented of souls…fairydust the pains away…

To provide and take advantage of this magical ability to heal….by just being…human…

~Arohi ✨