Gyaannirudra®
Now A Blue Intent Once upon a December,A riot of colours sparked in the airUntil a cold hand swept the canvas clean,Now everything is a composed slumber.I built a world where every colour thrived,But a cold truth was rewriting the map.I stretched for a height that they swore wasn’t mineAnd was mocked for God’s different […]
I am not my crutches I may walk a little slower,But my dreams run fast and far.You see a girl in silence,I see a rising star. My hands may tremble gently,Yet they write a world of grace.Behind this quiet posture,Lives fire no one can replace. They stare, they laugh, they wonder,“How can she ever fly?”But
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The Storm You Left You are a verse in the winds,A dream of a gentle wave.I can’t be you, but memories,The only thing that I can save.A thunder still roars inside me,Maybe it’s the touch of you.How alive then I was,What magic did you do?You passed like a breeze through silence,Left colours in skies once
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The Meaning of Life I saw a child playing with a balloonEcstatic in his own companyIt was a bright summer afternoonWhen I had this epiphanyThis child inspired meIt was then I realizedThis is the way to live life, you seeI sat and slowly analyzedHis focus was on the balloonHe cared not of the surroundingAnd as
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Around you A simple fantasy or wish fulfillment,Moving with the world, you realize,There is much to do unless you give it a try,The game is around you; you are the one to change its view.Never forget the day you live smiling as the time will come again,for you to see you keep smiling.Everything happens for
My mind and me Having a girl, it’s a curseOr I am soft-spoken it’s a curseNot such type of girl who always looks scars of the moonBut from my peculiar actionsyou might consider me as a loonSomeone praises me thatMy smile is gorgeousAnd someone scares me thatI am so dangerousThey appreciated my simplicityBut I want
Unexpected Strokes of Life A careless sip, water cascades down—From lip to chin to collar, making its wayLike those rebellious drips that often crownMy paintings when the brush has too much say. These wayward streams, at first a source of dread,Remind me of the times my art went wrong:When colors bled beyond where they were
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The Reality of Womanhood It is not a crown, nor a gilded throne,But a weight carried, often alone.It is the stretch of giving too much,A quiet endurance, a healing touch. It’s the battle of dreams set aside,The grit to rise when worlds collide.The unpaid labor, the unspoken strain,The silent strength through joy and pain. It
The Divine Place of Diversity From Kashmir in the north,To Kanyakumari in the South.Stretches with the vast land massWith oceans on the three sides.And in the extreme north, we have the Himalayas. People of diverse cultures and traditionsMeet and spend time during celebrationsPeople of different religions and regionsShare common identity Indians. Different dresses, foods, and
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A Vicious Trap An arrow so deep it cut my veinsHer name was RageProfound, comprehensive RageShe cut beneath my fracturesTearing apart what was left. As I stare at the shattered platesTrembling hands, flashing eyesChaos erupted in my soulI scream, a sound of pure agonyI let out what was left in me I’m sorry, I repeatThe