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Life…from the eyes of a mini skirt.

An introduction to the eyes in me.



Name –             Depends. How you want to remember it!
Age –                 Increasing by the day, dwindling by the night. In repeat mode.
Qualification –

1. Ramanand Sagar’s “Ramayan”.
2. B.R Chopra’s “Mahabharata”, and another “Mahabharat” where “Shaheer Sheik” played “Arjun”. Good looking chap and a good actor.
3. A few shlokas learnt over the years. (Jokes apart)
4. Highest qualification – “Life”



Life is most definitely a teacher, but only a few of us learn from it.


Life does not teach you based and biased on the colour and the type of the clothes you wear. Or your age, gender or education for that matter. It comes to you in all colours, shapes and sizes.

Similarly, to share the views on the ways to lead life or look at life, the clothes one wears do not play a part in it.  When saffron clad learned men and women sit in front of a mic and teach the ways of life, the live audience nod their heads in agreement and awe and promise to follow the suggested ways, like a mantra.

Do we spare the same faith to the philosopher next door, or under the same roof? One may not need to don the colour that heals to help decode life. When certain traditions becomes faith, faith becomes obsolete.

Knowledge is not awarded to a human based on clothes, gender, age etc. There is no ideal picture of a wise person. Just the frames to the pictures are alluring, and then portrait seems perfect, irrespective of the picture in it.

Neither do I wear saffron attire, nor have I renounced the simple pleasures of life. I am just another human being.


“The path towards knowledge makes one look externally. The path towards wisdom seeks internal intervention” – Hema S


That internal intervention is the beginning of wisdom.

I shall talk about my understanding of life in general.  Life has happened to me too, as to you, and as to another. I shall talk about how I decode it and how I understand it.


I shall talk about


“Life…From the Eyes of a Mini Skirt”.



More decoding will happen in this space. See you here soon.

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Scars…never cavalier!

Wounds have no religion
Scars have the faith to share
Some scars come in closed envelopes
Some flash and leave us bare

Not bonded to the wounds that leave us
It imprints its spirit to our soul
Forgiveness is not what it gives us
Teaching us forgiveness is its goal

Scars are the reflections of the past
For our mind to hold, and spirit to bear
Time may fade some scars away
But the essence of a scar is always there to stay

We all have scars
Nobody is ever spared
Some are trophies to flaunt
Some are punishments which cannot be shared

There are many colours to this art
And many purposes for its  show
Do not search them on just your body
Dive deep into your soul

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All rights reserved. 2021

Aawaaz.

क्या आईना हैं जो सच बोले

या दर्पन है जो झूठी हैं

दिखे वही जो देखना चाहे

खोटी नियत है या बस

मन की कमजोरी है

Hema S

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Kya aaina hai jo sach bole

Ya darpan hai jo jhooti hai

Dhikhe wohi jo dekhna chaahe

Khoti neeyat hai ya bas

Man ki kamzori hai.

Hema S

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2021. All rights reserved.

Ghumshuda Khuda!

Dastako pe darwaze nahi khul rahe
Duwawo ke ahate na jaane kaun sun raha hai
Pata uska kaun dhoonde jo sabko dhoonda ho
Kaise usko dhoonde jab laapta khud khuda ho

Ye ibadat nahi balki ek kaarwaa hai
Jawab mile na sahi sawaalon ke
Kasti zaroor mile kinaaro main
Ki doobane ka dar na ho

Hosalo se agar duniya chale
To hoosalon ka minaar woh hai
Minaaro par hum chade na chade
Par zameen par aasara mile zaroor hai

Chot pe maharm uska naam lagaye
Nishaan rahe na rahe dard mit jaye
Dard mitane waala haath hi agar dard de jaye
To gumshuda khuda ko kaise koi dhoond paye

Raaste khoye to hawa
Manzil ka rukh bataye
Andhera khone ki baari aaye
To ujala din ko jagmagaye

Sannate jab dil ko dehlaye
To koyal ki kuhu sukoon de jaye
Doobne ka dar ho to
Tinke ka sahara mil jaye

Girne ke dar se aasaman daraya
To zameen loriyo se sulaye
Dhoondane par agar khuda bhi mile to
Ghum huwe khuda ko kaun dhoond paye

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All rights reserved.

Kishton se rishte!

Kishton main bat rahi hai zindagi
Rishton main humko bandh gayee
Beeti huwi yaadain safar ke pair bane
To bhawishya unmain jhungaroo si baj rahi

Bacchpan ateet na tha
Na hi jawaani aaj hai
Bas kal ek tasveer tha
Jo aaj darpan dikha rahi

Kajal se saji huwi ankhe thi jo
Aaj unko lakeero ne hai sajaaya
Khoobsurati ka kapde odhe
Badalte mausamo ne bahut kuch hai sikhaaya

Ungali pakadke jo chalna seekha
Ungli pakadkar chalna tha sikhaaya
Seekhte sikhaate chalna seekh gaye
Isi seekh ne humako dhalti umar main thamaaya

Moh se ladi huwi thi jo zindagi
Wohi abhi unmol se lag rahi
Kishto main jo thi bat gayee
Wohi abhi rishton main hai saj rahi

Hema S

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The metamorphosis of life. The phases we go through. The things we learn and the relationships we build with those phases, and in those phases. The transformations that complete us and keeps us ready for further changes.

The installments that instill.

Price!

For every breath that I take,
And, every breath that leaves me,
I understand that,
Nothing I get comes free,
Nothing that leaves me is unpaid,
The sleep that captures me,
The dreams in that slumber,
Set my ambitions free,
For that freedom, I still,
Get to pay the price,
For, I wake up to this world again,
And need to walk along the time,
Peace comes in pieces,
All in shades of grey,
And then every thought which comes to me,
And, every thought that leaves me,
I understand that,
Nothing I get comes free,
Nothing that leaves me is unpaid.

Hema S

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The ‘barter’ system of nature. Nothing comes free. There us a price for eveeything we get. The unique mystical balance of nature

Depression

Silence from the yard of graves
Fills the vaccum in me
Am I the one alive who is standing among the dead
Or are these people dead who listen to me

If dead could walk
You would see me in a frame
My body just breaths
Without life, but in its name

Every minute is a battle
Everyday I put up this fight
It is not the world that is my enemy
My nemesis is right inside

My silent screams go unnoticed
My shadow leaves me in despair
Fear just does not grasp me
My heart tears into pieces beyond repair

Fire burns inside of me
Ashes blow through my eyes
No respite to the scorched breath
Freedom is nowhere in sight

Mute is my cry for help
I dont see a door
If escapade is not a myth
Whose hand do I hold

Cursed is this land or
The layout where I stay
Every step takes me to a hole
There is no ground for me to lay

Corpses of my desires
Desserted on the shore
My Soul orphans me often
Leaving my body to fight alone

Will this coffin put me to rest
Or is this just another quest
Take me to the world of peace
Let this life blend into breeze.

Adhoori kahani ki poori daastaan!

Kissa jisse samjha tha
Tum to ek daastaan ban gaye
Rubaroo bas awaaz se huwi thi tumhari
Pehli mulaqat main tasveer se insaan ban gaye

Kadam jab badhaya tumhari aur
Tum sapno ke saudaagar ban gaye
Aarzoo ki roshni se jab tumhe dekha
Dil dhadkaane waale mehmaan ban gaye

Musafir ki talaash ke mausam main
Tum mere pairon ke nishaan ban gaye
Aasamaan se jab tumhaara deedar kiya
Mere pyaar ke karwaan ban gaye

Waqt bewaqt ke toofan main
Tum ankho ke baarish ban gaye
Mausam ka chatata baadal jisse samjha
Tum to waqt ke azaan ban gaye

Chand haseen palon ki kahaani
Ke tum ek raat waali chaand ban gaye
Poori jisse samjhe rahe the hum
Us adhoori prem kahani ke paatradhaar ban gaye