Skip to main content

Lucky Customer can win Apple 6s....

Mom...Read Soul

She was in the sunshine
She was in the rain
She was in the rainbow bright
The cloud I cud hide behind!!

She was in the patter of raindrops
In the puddles of water
In the paper boats that braved the rain
The umbrella that veiled my timid frame !

She was firm as a snoozer
In the emptiness of my cup
In the vapours of the steaming coffee
That usually kept me up!

She was on every frillof my dress
On every strand of my crowning tress
In the clip that clutched my hair
In the neck piece that caressed my neck!

She was in the light of the bulb
In the breezing of the fan
In the blaring music of my stereo
Sharing as much as she can!

She was a detective
And a friendly spy
A watchdog you can say
No eyes would ever dare to lie!

She was in the clatter of plates and spoon
In the chatter morning and noon
In the meals I enjoyed
In the meals I loathed
In the binge I loved and swooned !

She was in the awaiting doorbell
In the door that let me in
The pillow that she was
The cosy comforter that I lived in!

She was in that crooked smile
In that silly stupid grin
In the peals of unbridled laughter
In that surfacing crown
In that lonesome tear
In all those mindless mischief
My head held no fear!

She was always in my thoughts
A part of my fanciful dreams
I breathed life into her
As she often told me!

She seemed to be just everywhere
She was my mom...... my soul to be!!💖💕

         --- NIDHI BANSAL

Comments

Post a Comment

Followers

Popular posts from this blog

āĻĒ্āĻ°েāĻŽ āĻŽাāĻ¨ে āĻ•ি ? āĻ†āĻ¸āĻ˛ে āĻ•ি ?

āĻĒ্āĻ°েāĻŽ   āĻŽাāĻ¨ে   āĻ•ি  ?   āĻ†āĻ¸āĻ˛ে   āĻ•ি  ?   āĻĒ্āĻ°েāĻŽ   āĻŽাāĻ¨ে   āĻ•ি  ?   āĻĒ্āĻ°েāĻŽ   āĻŽাāĻ¨ে   āĻ­াāĻ˛োāĻŦাāĻ¸া ,    āĻĒ্āĻ°েāĻŽ   āĻŽাāĻ¨ে   āĻ­াāĻ˛োāĻ˛াāĻ—া ,   āĻ•াāĻ‰āĻ•ে   āĻĒ্āĻ°āĻĨāĻŽāĻŦাāĻ°   āĻĻেāĻ–ে ,  āĻ¤াāĻ•ে   āĻĒ্āĻ°āĻ¤্āĻ¯েāĻ•   āĻ¤া   āĻŽুāĻšূāĻ°্āĻ¤   āĻĻেāĻ–াāĻ°   āĻ‡āĻš্āĻ›ে   āĻšāĻ“ā§Ÿা ,   āĻāĻ•েāĻ‡   āĻŦāĻ˛ে   āĻĒ্āĻ°েāĻŽ ।   āĻ¤াāĻ°   āĻ¨াāĻŽ   āĻ¨া   āĻœেāĻ¨েāĻ“ ,   āĻ¤াāĻ°   āĻŦ্āĻ¯াāĻĒাāĻ°ে   āĻ•িāĻ›ু   āĻ¨া   āĻœেāĻ¨েāĻ“ ,   āĻ¤াāĻ°   āĻœāĻ¨্āĻ¯   āĻ¸āĻŦ   āĻ•িāĻ›ু   āĻ•āĻ°āĻ¤ে   āĻĒাā§œাāĻ°   āĻ…āĻ¨ুāĻ­ূāĻ¤ি   āĻšāĻ“ā§Ÿা ,   āĻāĻ•েāĻ‡   āĻŦāĻ˛ে   āĻĒ্āĻ°েāĻŽ ।   āĻ¤াāĻ•ে   āĻĒ্āĻ°āĻĨāĻŽ   āĻŦাāĻ°   āĻ­িā§œ   āĻŦাāĻ¸ে   āĻĻেāĻ–ে ,   āĻļুāĻ§ু   āĻ¤াāĻ•েāĻ‡   āĻĻেāĻ–āĻ¤ে   āĻĨাāĻ•া ,   āĻāĻ•েāĻ‡   āĻŽāĻ¨ে   āĻšā§Ÿ   āĻŦāĻ˛ে   āĻĒ্āĻ°েāĻŽ ।   āĻāĻ•āĻ‡   āĻœাā§ŸāĻ—াā§Ÿ   āĻ•াāĻœ   āĻ•āĻ°া ,   āĻ•োāĻ¨ো   āĻ¸āĻŽā§Ÿ   āĻĻেāĻ–া   āĻšāĻ˛ে   āĻŽুāĻšāĻ•ি   āĻšাāĻ¸া...

āĻ†āĻŽাāĻ° āĻļāĻšāĻ° āĻ•āĻ˛āĻ•াāĻ¤া

āĻāĻ‡ āĻļāĻšāĻ°, āĻ†āĻŽাāĻ° āĻļāĻšāĻ°, āĻ­াāĻ˛োāĻŦাāĻ¸াāĻ° āĻļāĻšāĻ°, āĻāĻ¤িāĻš্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻļāĻšāĻ°, āĻŽিāĻˇ্āĻŸিāĻ° āĻļāĻšāĻ° āĻ†āĻ° āĻ†āĻ°ো āĻ…āĻ¨েāĻ• āĻ•িāĻ›ু āĻ­াāĻ˛োāĻ˛াāĻ—াāĻ° āĻŽāĻ¤ো āĻļāĻšāĻ°, āĻāĻ°āĻ‡ āĻ¨াāĻŽ āĻ•āĻ˛āĻ•াāĻ¤া । āĻ¯েāĻ–াāĻ¨ে āĻŽাāĻ¨ুāĻˇেāĻ° āĻĻিāĻ¨ āĻšাāĻ˛ু āĻšā§Ÿ āĻ˛্āĻ¯াāĻĻ āĻĻিā§Ÿে āĻ†āĻ° āĻļেāĻˇ āĻšā§Ÿ āĻ°াāĻœ্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻ­িāĻ¤্āĻ¤িāĻšীāĻ¨ āĻ•āĻĨাāĻŦাāĻ°্āĻ¤া āĻĻিā§Ÿে , āĻ¤āĻŦুāĻ“  āĻāĻ‡  āĻ†āĻŽাāĻ° āĻļāĻšāĻ° āĻ­াāĻ˛োāĻŦাāĻ¸াāĻ° āĻļāĻšāĻ° । āĻšাāĻ“ā§œা āĻ¸্āĻŸেāĻļāĻ¨ āĻĨেāĻ•ে āĻ­িā§œ āĻ¨েāĻŽে āĻāĻ¸ে āĻĒā§œে āĻšাāĻ“ā§œা āĻŦ্āĻ°িāĻœে āĻ†āĻ° āĻ¤াāĻ°āĻĒāĻ° āĻ†āĻ¸ে āĻāĻ‡ āĻļāĻšāĻ°ে , āĻ¤াāĻ°āĻĒāĻ° āĻ¸ে āĻ•āĻ¤োāĻ‡ āĻ¨া āĻ°াāĻ— āĻ•āĻ¤োāĻ‡ āĻ¨া āĻŦিāĻĻ্āĻŦেāĻˇ āĻ•āĻ¤োāĻ‡ āĻ¨া āĻĒ্āĻ°েāĻŽ āĻ†āĻ° āĻļেāĻˇে āĻ•িāĻ›ু āĻ¸āĻŦ āĻ­ুāĻ˛ে āĻ—িā§Ÿে āĻ­াāĻ˛োāĻŦেāĻ¸ে āĻŦাā§œি āĻĢেāĻ°া , āĻ¤াāĻ‡ āĻāĻ‡ āĻļāĻšāĻ° āĻ­াāĻ˛োāĻŦাāĻ¸াāĻ° āĻļāĻšāĻ° । āĻāĻ‡ āĻļāĻšāĻ° āĻ•āĻŦিāĻ—ুāĻ°ুāĻ° , āĻāĻ‡ āĻļāĻšāĻ° āĻ¨েāĻ¤াāĻœিāĻ° , āĻāĻ‡ āĻļāĻšāĻ°েāĻ° āĻŦাāĻ¤াāĻļে āĻ†āĻ›ে āĻ¸াāĻšিāĻ¤্āĻ¯ āĻ†āĻ›ে āĻ¸্āĻŦাāĻ§ীāĻ¨āĻ¤াāĻ° āĻ­াāĻŦāĻ¨া , āĻ†āĻ›ে āĻ•āĻŦিāĻ—ুāĻ°ুāĻ° āĻ•াāĻœ, āĻ†āĻ›ে āĻ¨েāĻ¤াāĻœিāĻ° āĻĢিāĻ°ে āĻ†āĻ¸াāĻ° āĻ•াāĻŽāĻ¨া, āĻ¤াāĻ‡ āĻāĻ‡ āĻļāĻšāĻ° āĻ†āĻļাāĻ° āĻļāĻšāĻ°। RAY āĻĨেāĻ•ে āĻ˜োāĻˇ , āĻ…āĻĒু āĻĨেāĻ•ে āĻļāĻ™্āĻ•āĻ° āĻ¸āĻŦ āĻ†āĻ›ে āĻāĻ‡ āĻļāĻšāĻ°ে , āĻšāĻ˛āĻš্āĻšিāĻ¤্āĻ° āĻ¨িā§Ÿে āĻ­াāĻŦি āĻ†āĻ—ে āĻ†āĻŽāĻ°া āĻ¤াāĻ°āĻĒāĻ° āĻ­াāĻŦে āĻĒুāĻ°ো āĻĻুāĻ¨িā§Ÿা, āĻ¤াāĻ‡ āĻāĻ‡ āĻļāĻšāĻ° āĻšāĻ˛āĻšিāĻ¤্āĻ°েāĻ° āĻļāĻšāĻ°। āĻŦāĻ¨্āĻ§ুāĻ¤্āĻŦেāĻ° āĻŽāĻ§্āĻ¯ে āĻ†āĻ¸ে āĻ•িāĻ›ু āĻ­াāĻŦāĻ¨া , āĻ†āĻ° āĻ¤াāĻ° āĻĨেāĻ•েāĻ‡ āĻŦেāĻ°োā§Ÿ "āĻāĻ‡ āĻŦোāĻ•াāĻšোāĻĻা", āĻļুāĻ¨āĻ¤ে āĻ–াāĻ°াāĻĒ āĻ˛াāĻ—āĻ˛েāĻ“, āĻŽāĻ¨ে āĻ˛াāĻ—েāĻ¨া , āĻ¤াāĻ‡ āĻāĻ‡ āĻļāĻšāĻ° āĻāĻ•āĻŸু āĻ…āĻ¨্āĻ¯ āĻ°āĻ•āĻŽ āĻ­াāĻŦে āĻŦāĻ¨্āĻ§ুāĻ¤্āĻŦ āĻŽাāĻ¨াāĻ¨োāĻ° āĻļāĻšāĻ° । āĻĢেāĻ˛ুāĻĻা āĻĨেāĻ•ে āĻŦ্āĻ¯োāĻŽāĻ•েāĻļ , āĻ•িāĻ°ীāĻŸি āĻĨেāĻ•ে āĻļāĻŦāĻ° āĻ¸āĻŦ āĻ†āĻ›ে āĻāĻ‡ āĻļāĻšāĻ°ে , āĻ°āĻšāĻ¸্āĻ¯েāĻ° āĻāĻ‡ āĻļ...

A lost Dream

Today I met my Dream again. Dream that walked in my life when I was 8, Dream that left me when I was 18. Dream that gave me a cause to live this life. Dream that taught me how to fight. How can I forget it's glowing eyes, That leaded me in my aimless nights. How can I fail to recall it's firm hand, That held me when I was about to cry. My Dream. It had the same old smile as it had when I was a child. I still desired to grab it's body with both my hands. But it was too late. My Dream was walking to the woods of dark, While I was trapped in the cage of responsibility and Fate.                                                                                              - Swati Singh         ...