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Pooja Shah Mar 2015
Her legs were determined to never tremble again,
Her breath was never shallow since that day,
She no more thought about her agonizing pain,
The price for someone’s cowardice, she would never pay.

The words unsaid, were no more hidden in her heart,
She spoke freely; her thoughts had gained wings,
A soul without fear, her spirit was ready for a new start,
She was at last, herself, a human, among other human beings.

Strings of hopelessness with which she was tied,
Were, by her soul’s fiery rage, torn,
That day, with sheer shame, a victim died,
With a new cry of vigour, a fighter was born.
This poem is a tribute to women globally. They are human beings with the heart of the Almighty. Such women are now recognising their identity and emerging as stalwarts of strength and compassion. I salute you, women!
Pooja Shah Dec 2013
The swings and the stress
with you being around
when life was a mess
everything is still so fresh.

These are the memories that I fend
I'm just proud to be your best friend
I get to walk with you, hand in hand
I'm just happy to be your best friend!

The Judo, and the Snake and Ladder
were only the 'games' that used to matter
And what you did to make me smile
when my dreams used to shatter!

Glad to realize that we are still the same
the jokes that we crack are still the lame
And I know that when you are my friend
there is nothing that will make me feel ashamed.

These are the memories that I fend
I'm just proud to be your best friend
I get to walk with you, hand in hand
I'm just happy to be your best friend!
Pooja Shah Mar 2014
If books could speak,
Would they speak to us,
Of love, peace, wisdom,
Of happiness and humanity?

If books were a mirror ,
Would they show us,
the reflection of hatred,
destruction as well as evil *******?

If books could predict,
Would they predict a tomorrow,
That is an epitome of goodness,
Or , the one that symbolizes a downfall of mankind?

If books could switch,
Would they agree to be us,
For a day, or would they,
choose to be themselves?

For, despite their monumental silence,
they are bestowed with wisdom, unlike us.
For, even though they are mere pages filled with words,
they are much more than the almost extinct human virtues...
Pooja Shah Dec 2013
There is always some change taking place in the world fragile,
      In the vivid search of change, seekers run errands, from mile to mile.
      But, if only those innocent, blind-like eyes , the truth could see,
      That, a 'change' is always present around them, for the 'change' is meant to be.


      A change is , when a sunrise turns into a golden sunset,
      When a dry piece of cloth pursuits a drop of water and turns wet.
      Change is when the green leaves turn red , depart from the tress and fall,
      So, a change is which occurs reccuringly, for 'change' is the nature of all.


    A change is when a heartbeats of a happy heart stops beating,
    When that good ol' friend who waves at you every morrow , stops greeting.
    A change is acknowledged , when the frown on the face turns into atleast a weak smile,
   We call it a change, if it occurs in our lives, every once in a while.


  Even though , one day, the legs that dance endlessly , stop moving,
  It is the ray of hope, and the hope for a change, that keeps us going,
  Change is when a frightful night turns into a lovely, sunny day,
   Because, "Only change is permanent",is what our 'angel elders' say.
The poem is inspired by the idea, that everything in life keeps on changing, like it or not.
Pooja Shah May 2015
Down the memory lane of my forgetful mind,
I have forgotten almost all,
But you;
You are still a part of,
Countless flashbacks, that:
Bring tears to my eyes,
A smile to my lips,
And love to my soul.

Countless times,
I have tried,
To let go of you...
But you always hold on my to mind,
As if without each other,
We would remain incomplete.

Countless are the ways,
By which I have managed to,
Hate you hard,
And end up,
Loving you harder;
As if,
It’s easier for my being,
To die countless deaths for loving you,
Than to, without a thought of you,
Spend countless eternities.
Pooja Shah Nov 2013
Is it my soul doing a somersault?
   Or has the time come to a halt?
   Or is it the moment between us that feels amazing?
   For your's is the only name that now I can sing.


  Is it the moon tonight, that looks more illuminated?
  Or is it the heart of mine, that feels the need to be felicitated?
  For there is a peaceful light , glowing all inside and around me,
  Or is it, that love is the light, just like it is meant to be?


  Is it something really beautiful about this normal season?
  Or is it my lips, that have decided to keep smiling for no reason?
  Is some lovely pleasure allowed to the human beings in this way,
  They they get the privilege of the cold, shining stars , on a scorching day?


  Am I affected with a disease which has no cure?
Or , is it a mere illusion of mine, that is devilishly pure?
One last time, allow me to ponder over this , for now,
Is this a feeling, that the mortals name it as, love?
Love is the gift to us ,of the stars, of the angels that guide us from near and far...
Pooja Shah Apr 2014
Finally, I learnt to dance
And to freely express

Finally, I learnt to sing
And to speak up for myself

Finally, I learnt to believe
And to have faith in me

Finally, I learnt to love
And accept my flaws

Finally, I learnt to live
I am now a free soul
Pooja Shah Nov 2013
In the moment when I shivered in the cold,
      I saw him smile.
      Oh, it was nothing out of the box,
      It just gave me the much needed warmth.

      It stretched endlessly from one end to the other,
      It flowed breaking every barrier.
      Oh, it wasn't that unusual, you see,
      It only made me miss a heartbeat once again.

     I saw his lips dance to a happy tune,
     My eyes lingered there for a while.
     Oh, nothing went wrong with me, you know,
     I just found my own lips moving to the rhythm of his dance.

     It was a simple smile, that occurred on a winter morning,
     The one he smiled, that one.
     Oh, I was not even that near to him , you see,
     But , the beauty of the smile did completely encompass me.
Isn't it weird, that 'someone's' smile can always make your day? No matter who that 'someone' might be, no matter how bad your day is... No matter how when many people say, "That's weird, you know?", you smile to yourself and whisper, "It's weird , that it is the most beautiful, and the most special thing in the world!" :)
Pooja Shah Aug 2017
Hope is a door, a window or
a tiniest space, a thinnest line
between being and vaning
into obscurity.

Hope is a victory, a triumph or
a feeling of it, over not just  fear
but over the depth and darkness that
shrouds courage.

Hope is a word, a small word
in a huge world, an infinite world.
But he who has hope
rules infinity.
I just found hope and I hope that you find hope as well :)
Pooja Shah Dec 2013
We all try to keep away something from prying eyes,
Something we always hide, pretending to be nice,
We make other's opinions our priority, ours go for a sacrifice,
And no one can exist freely here , there is always a price.

We think we are civilized, in every way, we are better behaved,
And we assume that we are the best, the reason humanity is saved,
We don't realize, that due to our doings, the path of evil is already getting paved,
The truth is, we are indeed humane monsters, and destruction is what , by us, is craved.

We might have been angels, guiding others, helping them to grow ,
But, we choose the darker side, the seeds of evilness is what we sow,
We might have avoided the wars, the battles, the endless bitter rows,
Yet, we ignored the consequences, and the devil inside us, now keeps us on our toes.

Even though we serve the devils inside us with limitless devotion,
The angels stay on our side, support us, as they are a Divine creation,
They slowly whisper to our conscience,"Let there be, inside you , no friction!"
The real you, is the loving spiritual being, that humane monster is all but a delusion.

Let us not hide the loving, caring and affectionate being , behind the masks,
And always remember, creating , not destroying the path of love, is our task,
The stream of affection and divinity is right beneath us, let yourself, in it bask,
Get rid of that humane monster, and let us live without fear or pretension, and survive till the very last.
Today,let the angel within you take over,and spread Love :)
Pooja Shah Oct 2014
If I were you,
I would love myself,
To no end.

If I were you,
I would forever,
Hold on to my hand.

I would love all of myself,
The old as well as the new,

I would merge with myself
Only if I were you.





.
Pooja Shah Dec 2013
I searched for it here,
I searched for it there,
But, I never found anything,
From which, I was scared.

I scanned for it, in the sky,
I scanned for it, on Earth,
There was nothing, I was scared of,
Be it, of any might or mirth.

I asked for it , to the angels,
I asked for it, to the demons,
None could help me out in hell,
They said, fear doesn't exist in the heavens.

At last, when I got tired of the search,
I thought, I should take some rest,
When I laid down, and reflected upon myself,
I realized it then, I had found one demon at it's best.

I kept on glaring at the devil, inside me,
I saw it feeding itself, by eating me up,
So much hatred, it filled me with, all this time,

It then dawned upon me, that I had been doomed,
And with the first tinge of fear, I gulped.
Bura jo dekhan mein chala, bura na miliya koi, Jo man khoja apna, to mohse bura na koi :)

TRANSLATION: I searched for evil everywhere, but I couldn't find one ounce of it in the outside world. But, the moment I reflected upon myself, I saw the devil sitting inside me, consuming me . I was the worst devil of all !
Pooja Shah Dec 2013
Your heart, my mind,
And all those words, written on sand,
Your smile, my eyes,
And the look of love, with gestures nice.

Do you ever miss those moments?
Do you ever want to relive them?
Do you want to fight, so that the hatred survives,
Or do you want to fight the world, so that our love grows?
Tell me, what goes on in your head,
while you stand there, and fight the war of love!

Your hands, my skin,
And the motto of, 'You win, I win',
Your soul, my words,
And all those days, when we were free birds.


All those times that we've been through,
It's all a blur now, except for a moments few,
I recall the time, when we used to be each other's shield,
Now, we stand against each other, fighting on a battlefield.

The hands that used to caress my skin,
Now has a sword , pointing at me,
By each passing moment, we lose in our victory,
We are both our own saviours and destroyers, He said , "We are meant to be."

Dying at your hands, won't ever regret I,
It is the act of killing you, which I shall live to repent,
The war of love will ruin you and me,
And without you, life will not be the same one which I had wished to spend.

Tell me,

Do you want to fight, so that the hatred survives,
Or do you want to fight the world, so that our love grows?
Tell me, what goes on in your head,
while you stand there, and fight the war of love!
What would you do, if the one you love, the one who has in a way saved your life, made it special for you live it, suddenly becomes the reason of your possible destruction?
Pooja Shah Aug 2017
I often forget the count
of the times when
taunts that pierce like arrows
have wounded me.

I do not remember if
it was once
or a gazillion times that
I have tasted the dust
mixed with the red of my blood.

I, however, smirk a little
everytime I fall to the ground.
I then get up again
and begin my fight once more.

I only hear people around me
singing along to the melody of love.
But I sing a song of courage
and the caravan of life goes on...
Pooja Shah Aug 2017
Just when you thought it's all over
and there's nothing left to save,
it begins all over again.
Life always surprises Death!
A cycle that rarely ends :)
Pooja Shah Sep 2017
What is life without pain?
Whatever it is, is in vain.
What is pain to do in life?
If not help us rise above strife.

Why our soul do we bare?
Why is a moment of happiness rare?
Why in eternal delirium we exist?
If not to find destination past the mist.

And we still praise our life
and seek a petaled handle to a knife.
And we still go on to breath and breath
For we hope for heaven and soul to meet.
Pooja Shah Nov 2013
You look broken- hearted, teary eyed at the covers of a magazine,
With eyes wide, you exclaim, "Oh my! I will never be such a beauty Queen!
"Oh that pretty face! I would **** to be her!" ,you begin to wish,
A second later, you let out a sad sigh, rating yourself a mere *******.

But why is it, that your own reflection , you hate?
Is it because of what you see everywhere, a beauty that is fake?
Did you forget, oh my pretty little ,insecure thing,
That you are His creation, a beautiful state of being?

Are you insecure about the whites and reds that ,
covers any 'beautiful' 'perfect' women's face?
Then, what is your say about that genuine smile,
that needs no make up, and improves your grace?

Are you scared , because people throw accusing glares at you,
The ones that accuse you, of being a person of words few?
Then, wouldn't you like to answer them with your eyes,
pretty as always as they are, for they even speak out volumes?

You sob to yourself because you are not the 'Size Zero' type,
and because it is the latest trend, too much of which is a hype?
But, what about those noble hands, and a loving heart,
That you are gifted with, for love is what they impart?

It is true that, beauty does count for something in life,
But, why to achieve something superficial, should there be a strife?
All you need in life, oh my pretty little, insecure thing,
is the inner beauty, that spreads love, my beautiful state of being!
It is now the call of the hour that we get over the illusion of perfection , and delve deeper into our soul to discover the inner beauty of if, the radiance of it, and shine through it. Only then, we will be able to look or feel beautiful, in a true sense! :)
Pooja Shah Mar 2014
What a mere irony it is,
that grievance follows ,
the attempt of mine.
to be something that,
would please you the most...

What a mere irony it is,
that smile flourishes,
on my face, like a rose,
when I become someone,
that you label insane...

Once I transform,
into something ,
undesirable for you,
you would reject me,
like some unwanted trash...

But, a single reflection,
standing on the,
other side of the mirror,
would convince me,
the guilt of disappointing you,
did not perish in vain....
Pooja Shah Nov 2017
Often,
Words elude expression
And on pages blank,
No ink splashes emotion.

Often,
Words refuse to materialize.
And when parched lips part,
No secrets elicit nourishment
To the bleeding heart.

Often,
Colours play hide and seek.
And inside bland lives,
Never do hearts find a reason to beat and beat and beat.

But often,
Expression survives without the crutches of words.
And even the blankness of pages
Become evidence for the empty hollowness gnawing inside.

But often, blurred words escape the rhizome of parched lips
As they quiver and quiver in hopelessness and speak a tongue of their own.

But often,
Bland lives fail to seek colours and remain bland
Their world turns into a living coffin
While the dead caravan of numerous bones breathlessly goes on and on and on.
Pooja Shah Jan 2014
That which surrounded me,
was a mix-and-match,
of surroundings natural,
and man-made.

It seemed to me, as if,
a bleeding angel of nature,
was compelled to,
arrive in a modern day crusade.
Pooja Shah Nov 2013
Body covered in the tattoos that are red,
Lips quivering, trying to speak the words unsaid,
The desire to exist has been latched,
Every ounce of self confidence and esteem has been snatched.


You begin to imagine that your life is over,
and that there is nothing left, to be savored.
You begin to say that you are going to lose this game,
and 'loser' will be soon be an addition to the list of 'those' names.


But sulking over the hate is never an option,
Just a friendly reminder, that every problem has a solution.
Do not decide to end your story with the hate you get,
Stay determined, fight for yourself, till the last breath , and rise above the hate.

There is no doubt, that there are going to be moments , when you will fall,
When 'they' will laugh at your failure, and you would want to end it all.
But, why not muster the strength to get up on your own,
and stitch, over again, every ounce of what has been torn?


It is now near time that you start to smile genuinely again,
because you do deserve the respect that you need to gain,
So, change your mind, get stronger, for it is never too late,
Promise me, promise yourself of starting it all anew, and rise above the hate.
Reach out to people who are bullied, love them , care for them, and help them RISE ABOVE THE HATE.
Pooja Shah Aug 2017
I am your Sunfeast
Protect your Angel in your embrace
I will **** that beast
With your infinite love & that evergreen grace
*
We will be happy together.
Bold: The Lonely Bard aka Atul Kaushal
Italics: Pooja Shah
Bold Italics: Together
Pooja Shah Dec 2013
So they said, that we cannot be together,
And you said your goodbyes ,
So they ruled, that we will be apart forever,
But I think that they are all lies.

Because you and me, me and you,
We are not supposed to part,
Even if the storm arises, out of the blue,
You will always be the beat of my heart.

So they said, that you don't deserve my affection,
And you hesitantly agreed,
So they declared, that false is , for each other, our passion,
But I say, our love is a book, they can't read.

Because you and me, me and you,
We are not supposed to part,
Even if the storm arises, out of the blue,
You will always be the beat of my heart.

For them , I am their honoured Queen,
And you, a mere Rank,
So, loving you , with all my heart and soul, is a sin,
But, guess what, without you, my life would become a blank.

I don't care what they think about us,
Whether loving you is right,
For the ones who judge us, I am their Bess,
And a Bess , never gives up on a fight.

Because you and me, me and you,
We are not supposed to part,
Even if the storm arises, out of the blue,
You will always be the beat of my heart.
She loved him, he loved her. And it was all that mattered to them...
Pooja Shah Nov 2013
I am the one who wears a scarf around her face , while walking in the dark,
The one who gets affected by your ‘harmless’ words and remarks snark,
But, you won’t recognize me, won’t even stop judging me for saying this, that’s for sure,
So, let me introduce you to myself, hello there, I am your victim, the one who is insecure.

I am just a servant, a worthless one, in your powerful, popular , betraying regime,
Just someone negligible, created by Him to make you laugh, not even worth your ‘precious’ time,
An anonymous personality, you call me a *******, fat ***, ****, *******, an emotional fool,
I am the one who gets punished without committing a single crime, without breaking any rule.


But, you won’t recognize me, won’t even stop judging me for saying this, that’s for sure,
So, let me introduce you to myself, hello there, I am your victim, the one who is insecure.

You will never treat me as I am , never think of me as a human being,
No matter how hard I try, to ignore you, to befriend you, to you, I will always remain a funny thing.
But, when it will be your turn to offer flowers on my grave, free of scars which will be, as well as pure,
That will be the moment when you will look at others and exclaim, “Oh, what a pity,  I knew her, wasn't she the one who was insecure?”
Bullying or getting bullied is no longer a rare news. Daily, a part of bullied people dies, because of insecurity experienced by them. Let us help them, by letting them know, that we care for them, and love them, no matter what...
Pooja Shah Dec 2013
There you go, breaking my heart,
There you go, tearing me apart.
Accusing me of an uncommitted sin,
Celebrating,over me, your imaginary win.

With a whole heart, I had loved you,
We were always one, now you separated us in two.
You ousted me from your heart, saying the love was an illusion ,
Were you speaking of the same love, which was once unconditional?

There you go. leaving me alone,
There you go, reasons now unknown.
Without uttering a word from your lips,
Leaving me to bear the silence's whips.

Breaking the first rule of our love, the trust in it,
There , on the mighty throne of betrayal, you sit.
And you assume yourself as the one who was betrayed,
By the lady who made you her everything, the lady, whom you now degrade.

There you go, without any answers,
There you go, changing into a naysayer.
Releasing me , at last , of our shared love,
Of all the sadness, smiles, hope and woes.
Centuries ago, a Queen was beheaded by the orders given by her own husband, the King. She wrote "O Death, Rock Me Asleep" a day before her execution. This poem is a tribute to her and her tolerance towards the injustice imposed upon her. This is for Anne Boleyn, Marquess Of Pembroke, you will always remain my inspiration. Salute!
Pooja Shah Mar 2014
Twinkling stars,
Illuminated moon,
Just me and them,
staring back at each other...

Careless chuckles,
Reluctant teary eyes,
Just me and these emotions,
and their unexplained outburst...

Dark skies,
Flight of flights,
Just us and the moment,
fading into an oblivion...

But this is what,
this night is all about,
about me wishing to be,
where I will finally be rid of,

The desire,
The pain,
The suffering,
And infertile hope,

Where everything will be,
peaceful,
calm,
beautiful,
homely....
Pooja Shah Jan 2014
Too old, I am, to think that a falling star can fulfill a beautiful desire,
Too old, for sure, to say a few words of senseless thoughts, perhaps a satire.
Too old, for certain, to believe in tales of magic, in Cinderella or Snow White,
Too old, maybe, to lay on he bed and think I am one of them, at midnight.

Too old, they say, I am , to chuckle childishly over not-so-funny jokes,
Too old, I suppose, to dream of finding my dream gift, inside a pair of socks.
Too old, I realized, to feel the tickle of my love's fingertips, on my wrinkled skin.
Too old, I know, to expect anything at all, from all those 'trusted' kith and kin.

Am I too old, though, to not fill the sky with balloons big and small, blue, pink, green and red?
Too old, you think, to jump up and down with my best friend happily on that spongy bed?
But, do you ever get old enough, to not sing your favourite songs in the shower, without a pause?
Old, old enough, to not dance freely around the house and imagine a round of applause?

At times, I ask myself, an I too old to believe in things magical or great?
My old, tired heart, flutters a bit, when to hide from reality, I find an escape.
Am I too old, I ask sometimes, to feel all those alluring things once more?
I don't think, that one ever gets old enough, to become a kid again, to the core.
Pooja Shah Nov 2014
Another Tear,
One more Smile,
A word of Anger,
With a pang of Hunger.
The pain of Loss,
Also, a ray of Hope,
Some tinge of Fear,
Behind the show of Valour.
The quiet Noise,
The silence's Voice.
Numerous displays of Destruction,
Infinite prayers for Redemption.
Of that,
Another camouflaged visage,
Have once again,
Gone unsung.
Us
Pooja Shah Apr 2014
Us
Hatred.
Is it what, all this while, we have learnt?
Love.
Is it what, to ashes, we have burnt?
Or.
Is it that we are misguided?
Maybe.
It's just that we are quite shortsighted.
Because.
If we would be aware,
Of the result caused by our ignorance,
Would not we have long changed,
From a foolish monster,
To an understanding human being?
Pooja Shah Aug 2017
Where are you, honey?
Punish me not without a crime.
Your absence makes the day not sunny,
A moment without you lasts a lifetime.
He knows that these lines are for him :)
Pooja Shah Feb 2014
Tried to listen to your silent words,
To decipher those blank eyes mysterious,
But Love! Your soul is that still water,
which runs very deep, deeper and deeper...

Tried to read those troubling thoughts,
Those that are venomously eating you up,
Tried to think of a reason for your closed fists,
But, a smile that covered up your trembling lips,
made all my efforts go in vain...

But, I can daresay, that the smile that,
dances on your lips is not a genuine one.
And, that the cold silence that exists between us,
is far away from the comforting one that we once shared, long ago...

I wish, I could stay by your side,
through all your trials and tribulations.
I wish, I could, help you, and we would,
together win this dark, monstrous fight...

I wish, I could, make you smile wholeheartedly,
and never let those tears fall from your eyes.
I remember that lost smile of yours, darling!
which made my tired heart, beat up endlessly, all over again...

I wish, I was near you, my angel,
to rid you of all your terrible miseries,
I wish, you were not just a mere picture on my bedside table,
I was staring at... hopelessly, helplessly....
Pooja Shah Dec 2014
In the days I spend doing nothing,
In the nights I spend dreaming,
And amidst both the states,
You are there.

In my heart where I feel,
In my head where I think,
And where I interchange both,
You are there.

In my smiles that you bring,
In my tears that you wipe,
And in the vice-versa,
You are there.

In the life I live,
In the death I die,
And in all I do in between,
You are there.

Where I am there,
Where I am not,
And where I wish to be,
You are there.

Where you are,
Where you are not,
And where you ought to be,
You are there.

In my nowhere,
In my everywhere,
And in my elsewhere,
You are there.

In me,
In you,
In us,
You are there.

In the heavens,
In the hell,
And in this world,
You are there.

You are my world,
You are in it,
The world is you,
So, you are there.

In my confusion,
In my solution,
And as their creator,
You are there.

You are there,
I believe. I do.
Even when I don’t,
You are there.

I love you,
And I hate you.
For with me, forever,
You are there.

Even as I write this,
The words whisper,
And are evidence that,
You are there.

Smiling, you stand there,
Radiating love, always,
You are so far,
Yet, you are there.

You are there,
With me
Near me, and away,
But I don’t mind,
Near or away,
With your love
And mine,
Completing Us,

Today, I am proud to say,
You are there.
You are there,
You are there.
This is for all my loved ones out there, whose mere presence lights up my life. This love is for a lifetime... and beyond :)

— The End —