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Zahra - the enigma in my life

 Zahra - the enigma in my life For Zahra:::: Whenever you get to read this♥️ Its not even been a week But already I am missing A piece of my heart. Every thing I touch Your books, your gym bag Your big black water bottle Reminds me of you. My free spirited girl Who totally bowls us over Everytime With her naughty ways And kind heart. Your messy room With clothes all over But the art stuff so neatly organised Your sport medals and trophies Every memento reminds me of your happy eyes  As you ran for tournaments Or spent hours sketching  On your digital tab. I touch your pillow Your comforter I smell your lovely floral fragrance That emits from your drawers And get transported into those little happy moments  That you spent with me. Your agonised look as I talked to you about school Your happy laughter as you made fun of my clumsy ways Your quickly changing the music when you knew which  songs I liked Your instructions to me on the way I drive. Your every little word of love Of anger, of
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Mother's Day

aai, amma, mom, mamma, maa she, who gave birth, she, who did not give birth she, who feeds you with her hands, she, who interviews a 100 nannies to find the right hands to feed you. she, who gets up early at 5 am to pack you a dabba, she, who ensures a dabba was ready in the fridge at night itself. she, who runs car pools she, who says a firm good-bye at the bus stop she, who saves Sundays for pillow fights and board games she, who uses her Sundays to ensure "maa-ke-haath ka khana" and fresh laundry she, who sits with you throughout your exam nights, she, who ensures you are awake on time to tackle your essays  she, who solves every math sum with you she, who ensures you have a good tutor to help you get your concepts right she, who says she loves you every single day she, who asks "khana khaya?" every time she speaks to you she, who you thought was your sound board she, who you thought was annoying and nagging she, who you no longer feel the need to call up everyda
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Kya Höga agar....

 क्या होगा? क्या होगा अगर एक दिन हम काम न करें? रज़ाई ओढ़कर बस सपनों में खो जायें  अगर एक दिन बस की कतार में न लगकर  बगीचे की ठंडी कुश पर लेट जायें  क्या होगा गर १००% न मिले,  बस ४०% से काम चल जायें  ज़िन्दगी की दौड़ में हम अंतिम आ जायें ? क्या होगा अगर करियर न बनाये  पर रोज़ कुछ नया सीखने जाये  कुछ दिन दफ्तर न जाकर स्कूल चले जायें ? क्या होगा गर बड़ा घर, बड़ी गाड़ी न हो  रोटी दाल से गुज़ारा हो जाये पैसों को छोड़ खुशियों के पीछे लग जाये ? सबसे तेज़, सबसे आगे न होकर सब में  खुश, सब में हसमुख हो जाएं  दौड़ते दौड़ते कुछ वक़्त हमही में हम खो जाये ! Run, but not so fast, that you miss the landscape! - Reshma Sharma
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Mumbai ki thand

  ये मेरी मुंबई को क्या हो गया   लतपत थी पसीने में   आज काँप रही है ठण्ड में   कभी धुप में जलती थी   पावों के नीचे झुलसती थी   आज रज़ाई ओढ़कर सो रही है   कल जिसके सूरज ने रखा था  सर पर हमारे एक  हाथ आज बादलों के आँचल में  है छुपी     उस छोटी सी चिड़िया को   जिसने उठने का दिया बहाना   आज खुद रौशनी से कतरा रही है   कटिंग चाय पर मिलती थी   नुक्कड़ पर , कभी   गलियों   में भी   आज बिन कुछ कहे बगल से गुज़र रही है   एक ब्रांड वाली नयी हूडि ओढ़े   मुँह ढककर निकल रही है   ये मेरी मुंबई को क्या हो गया है !
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Two Lives

Two Lives One of them a boardroom debater The other a meek listener at PTAs One accomplished with degrees The other struggling to operate the washing machine One climbing the corporate ladder The other finishing chores late at night One has her brand of power dressing The other trying to keep up with new styles One in pinstripes and starched collars The other in flowy sundresses  One manages a team of a hundred The other puts two young ones to sleep One a winner, a believer, a fulfiller of dreams The other a giver, a carer, a shower of hopes One life, so many goals, so many paths to traverse But the journey is the same, Like two waves of a single heartbeat,  Two lives lived by one.
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Life Over-full! A whirlwind of information, so much to know so much to throw. Overwhelmed with the situations grasping at straws astray lettings some slip away. And then that day will arrive a bit belated but hopefully elated. When I shall ask life, a look straight in the eye in a voice loud and clear  no hesitance or fear. If life is a journey and there is no destination where are the signboards that mark the milestones? Why is it that there are just questions but no clues  no answers? Reshma  4 Dec 2020
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Every Voice Matters

It’s a burn out It’s a burn out It’s a spilling of the guts and the fire Every molecule inside Every drop of blood Every tear and muscle Burns like fire. The head is exploding As it tries hard Very hard To make semblance  Of all the happenings The cries, the pain, the hurt Of the voices that cannot be heard. Voices are becoming  Louder and louder But the boombox Is Silent The house is silent The forest is silent But yet the screams won’t stop Yes, it is a burn out. The world turning darker Black is the colour As the burning turns into smoke  A big black cloud Specks flying Ashes everywhere Blinding you as you burn out.
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