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Sonnet: A woman's face with nature's own hand painted.....

How would you feel to wake up next to a vase of roses and surprisingly you realise that  the air that held your memories within a room of betrayal and sorrow, sprinkled a spark of water-like hope to you, with a new home where it was just you...and your memories...yes, this is it, you are healing!

Maybe someone was right- 

 " A woman's face with nature's own hand painted

Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion;

A woman's gentle heart, but not aquainted

With shifting change as is false women's fashion....."

- Sonnet 20, A Woman's Face with Nature's Own Hand painted by William Shakespeare 


Had I not read this, had I not received this beauty of work, I would have never known how I look from someone a far perception who admired my presence at the time. 

(Breathe)...

And he wrote....

Here comes the curious case study 

To talk about a furious, bold lady

Maybe Brahman would not be ready 

For a rare two-spoon mix of knowledge pretty

From Bengal's heart, where rivers run

Comes the fire bold as the sun 

Against the tide of patriarchy hold

She stands brave and bold

Her mind, a vast and boundless sea

Navigates through mystery

A scholar heart, a warrior soul in her , the universe feels whole

A blend of passion, fierce desire....

A rare two spoon mix of knowledge and pretty,

A testament to strength, her lasting legacy ....



.........To the person I would have never imagined to speak with

was right beside me, as a pillar worth any ruth

he stared, he cared and time moved on

we squeezed our moments with little secrets and melodramas

not to face whenever the time drifts us upon...

My heart landed on a soft bed from a mix of memories and heartbroken emotions. There are times when you wish that people would believe you, listen, and understand you but their superpowers just leave them with rumors, assumptions, and misunderstandings. Yet a 7 billion population but you meet and know a very little amount of humans and they keep on getting filtered in your long lifespan, every time giving you a definition of the new home. I believe it's been the fate thread but you realize the true souls when you die. All your scars, unsaid words, unexpressed feelings, and hidden traumas have got you here and have let you build a new home every time with a dark storage room where no none is allowed but you! 

 I have held a long door of matter and time

None believes it!

To have held a scar, a deep dive to the world of cruelty,

Had I not been lucky but simply criticised 

Its the air that never leaves me, the time spent with the people  I love and the aura of life keeps me going,

the more you explore, the more you realize,

the world needs you!

but, none believes it....

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