Tuesday, December 11, 2018


If love was a poem
a haiku it would be 
say little feel a lot

If love was clay
bowl it would be 
holding within it all

If love was moon
a full or a new crescent
beautiful and surreal

If love was sunshine
hues of sunrise or of winter afternoon
golden, warm and soft

If love was a painting 
Van Gogh's strokes
spontaneous, colourful with
hopes, dreams and agony

If love was a rain
a lightning thunderstorm at night
and downpour; 
a live concert.. 

If love was a hug
bear hug it would be 
embracing with all it has

If love made love
slowly and passionately move
feeling each nook and corner
before erupting in an orgasm

If love was her
a glow in the eyes, halo of white hair
a  song in the heart... 
gorgeous from core

If love was you...
a laughter that grips
a smile that stirs the soul
a heart that melts...

or wait

If love was you...
it wouldn’t be love anymore
logs of wood chopped from once beautiful Pine
now simmering to ash on a cold winter night

If love was anything it could be
a treasure it would be
of joys, trauma and memories
of promises and betrayals 

Love was and love is...
a poetic Question!

(c) shubhra

10th December, 2018

Thursday, September 13, 2018


Let the scars remind
of life, love and hurt
embroidered with
blood sweat and tears...
intensity be thread to weave it with!

(C) shubhra
September 9, 2018

Thursday, August 24, 2017

मेरी टेबल पर एक डब्बा है

मेरी टेबल पर एक डब्बा है
जिसमें बहुत सी टूटी हुई चीजें हैं
फ्रिज मैगनट, पेन, झुमके,
खिलौने आदि
वो वहां इसलिए हैं
कि उन्हें जोङना है
कमबख्त वक्त ही नही मिला
इस के लिए।

फिर कल डब्बा उठाया,
चलो ये काम भी पूरा करते हैं...
सामान टटोला
तो नज़र पड़ी
उस डब्बे के एक कोने में

एक दिल भी था।

(c) shubhra
21st July, 2017

Sunday, June 11, 2017

"If I were rain"

If I were rain,
the first shower of the season I would be,
quenching thirst of all parched souls!

Drenching all alike the birds, the trees,
wilting plants on the street
the rich and the poor,
the dance of the happy spirit
as I soak them!

(c) shubhra
June 11, 2013
inspired by Manjul Bajaj

Friday, June 09, 2017

How many?

She asked him
how many
have you truly loved

He replied
One! just one and smiled...

She smiled back
secretly hoped
answer would be two

That would assure
one of them was her...

(c) Shubhra
May 25, 2017

Monday, May 08, 2017


First it is awkward,
then annoying
and worrying
You see a pattern
and it hits home

There is shock
and pain, 
denial too;
Some justification
some attempts

Self wakes up
There is acceptance
to see the unsaid
hear the hidden

All is numb now
Life moves
Memories follow

Touch nestles
on the cushions
Smile hangs
between the paintings
gathering dust
Words play
hide and seek,
tired finally rest
on the tree in the corner

Time for a break
Narangi vodka
or a chilled beer?
or some Adel
maybe Simon & Garfunkel
Still deciding

All is numb now
Life moves
Memories remain

(c) shubhra
5th May,  2017

Tuesday, December 29, 2015

"Love you" doesn't mean love anymore!!

We live in strange times
what is seen is never shown
what is heard, never said
what is felt is not what's expressed

"Love you" doesn't mean love anymore
"hate you" doesn't mean hate either
"sorry" is no longer a regret
"thank you" no more an expression of gratitude

"I am ok" never means things are alright
and nothing is well in "I am well" and "all is well"
"nice" no longer is so nice, and
"that's ridiculous" may not be that bad

A lifetime is spent deciphering meanings
Reading between the lines and
looking beyond the words
Is a skill essential

straightforward conversations
are rare
life status always

We live in strange times...here
"Love you" doesn't mean love

(c) shubhra
December 24, 2015