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Isha Kumar Nov 2014
Your irritating laughter.
Your annoying smirk.
Harshit Bhardwaj,
You’re such a ****.

You always try
To humour and kid.
Harshit Bhardwaj,
You’re so stupid.

You start joking
Without any whim.
Harshit Bhardwaj,
You’re so very dim.

Your music is disruptive,
Disturbing and destructive too.
Harshit Bhardwaj,
I seriously wanna maim you.

Your hairs are like
The feathers of a stork.
Harshit Bhardwaj,
You’re a big dork.

Your eyes are sparkling,
Your laughter is starting.
Harshit Bhardwaj,
Pray, quit your barking.

You’re so spineless.
You can’t go forward.
Harshit Bhardwaj,
You’re such a coward.

Get it in your brains,
That everything’s not a race.
Do you feel that, Harshit Bhardwaj?
I'm punching you in the face!
This is for you, my friend, who is capable of destroying the harmony of our classroom in mere seconds and is yet loved by all.
I wrote this about three years ago...so..yeah..
Prachi Bhardwaj Apr 2014
Because my mom once said,
Life is a journey
And it won’t be that sturdy.
Crawl like a creeper
Or dance like a tapper,
It would let you decide
But still will push you over the tide.
There will be a day
It will hold you back,
Fight the tears
Dread the day
There is a light in you
Don’t see others fly away,
You are there to fight the grey.
Those who’ll go out of your sight
Could not make your home bright,
Don’t count on people
They are not for you,
Look up to those stars
That’s where you can hide your scars.
There will be days
When all you’ll sense would be darkness,
Don’t forget to look through it
Colors will be waiting
To fill your emptiness.
Feel the breeze
Open your arms,
Drink the rain,
Love the wind,
Let the smell of the flowers
Cover you,
Let the music of the birds
Be your language,
All you will learn is to smile
Because all days won’t be alike.
Because my mom once said,
Promises are like rivers
They don’t have any shape,
They begin from an end
And those ends seldom meet.
Don’t wait for any soul
Winds are born to be blown,
What they take
And what they leave
Is another story
Little told and so untold.
There will be days
When you’ll get tired
You’ll crave for love
You’ll wait for someone to hold you,
Breathe and begin again
Because some cries go in vain.
It won’t warn you before the fire
Not even when you will be half burnt.
It won’t collect the ashes
But that end
It will go in your name.
Because my mom once said,
Life is like a game.
You’ll never win
But you won’t mind losing in the end,
This loss would bear what you are
Like a mirror to your sabotage.
It won’t flow with happiness
You’ll be the struggler
And you’ll have to be the believer.
Because those who don’t believe
Throughout they bleed.
Even when you don’t find the reasons
Remember, autumn is also a season.
Beauty is not in fulfillment
It’s in half said quotes
Musical notes
Unsung melodies
Quite soliloquies.
Happiness is not in the balloon that flies high
It’s in the wings of those nestlings
Who so adamantly try,
It is not in victories
But joyful histories
Curious mysteries
Unexplained madness
Self created sadness.
Because my mom once said
This life is your creation
A battle without destination.
Catch all the butterflies
Live all your cries
Rise like someone will catch you,
Fall like someone will push you.
Because one day you’ll start this journey
All over again
Not because this won’t be enough
Enough is never the word
It’s always more and even more
But because you’ll once again become my sword
And I’ll not hold you ever
I’ll let you sway.
Because my mom once said,
I am born the brightest sunray
Life is just a child’s play.


-Prachi Bhardwaj
dpbian Nov 2018
Oh unlimited form of energy,
When thou will come to me.
Will it be as early as it should be
Or be so late to be of no use for me?
I wonder when thou will come,
I ponder how thou will come.
What should I do just sit and wait,
Or pull myself together and do a work great.
But to do a work great I need thou,
And to make you come to me I bow.
Oh unlimited form of energy,
When thou will come to me.
Am I loud enough to reach you,
Or for you to find me should I leave a clue.
Oh but I'm in a situation so dilemmatic,
Anyone would if listen it'll sound hectic.
I even don't know I'm reaching you or not,
And if I've reached I don't know you're bound to me or not.
-Divya Prakash Bhardwaj
(DPBian art)
I was depressed that i was not good at even a single thing that would feed me in future so this poem came out as I wanted god to give me the strength and confidence to do what is required.
Anant Bhardwaj Jun 2021
A sister who is never away from her brother
sister who always supports brother
Sister who makes a bad time good
Sister who makes a spoiled brother good too
Sister who is never angry with her brother
That's why we speak to her, dear sister.

Thank You.
Written by Anant Bhardwaj
Why I need a LABEL
Am I so incapable?
Does certificates of mine
Define me better, than I?

Everybody wants me to score
Each time unsatisfied, quest for more
Can’t I live without that LABEL
That I’m useful even without that paper.

My teachers, my friends
My parents, and even myself
They ask me all to perform
Is that all my life is meant for, for all?

I’m under pressure to get good marks
Even I’m trying very hard
But that one question again comes to my mind
Am I running for a ‘really’ better life?

Can’t we live in a world of peace
Without any struggle, in the world of fantasies
Even in my dreams, people come and shout
‘You Lazy Boy, Stop writing, and go to work ‘now’’.

I do need a LABEL- to live in actual world of ‘chaos’
To sustain and survive, don’t know how?
We’ve to work on set standards;
Maybe, just to become compatible.


-Munyatam Bhardwaj
-XII-B
(Montfort School)
This poem was written by me when I was in 12th class. Never before I felt that pressure from surrounding to perform. It was like my life was hypothetically put at stake and would fail if I didn't succeed to get good marks.
Although I didn't liked this culture, but since it is how the society works, I had to comply with it. And gradually adapt to it.
What I realised was many a times it is not just our aggression that makes us hate the trends around us, but also sometimes it is our laziness which provokes us and we feel rejoiced after criticising  the system and hide the truth from ourselves.

— The End —