When I am Gone

When I am Gone - Minds Journal

End of a dreary day,
Tread weary with grief
As you mount the portico stairs
Would you, my darling, sense
My aching soul brimming with warmth
Rushing to greet you as I always did
At that familiar click of the lock
Longing to plant a tender kiss on your high forehead
On which pain has now carved wrinkles o’ so grim
Would you with quivering fingers fondle
That strand of hair lodged
In my purple sweater still hanging by the door
Would you then in woe toss yourself
On that well-worn couch on whose cosy bosom
We weaved dreams of love on many a Sunday noon
Stroking in vain the velvety fabric,
In hopes to feel my warmth one more time
Wine poured out of habit, in two glasses;
Swallowing hard the sorrow
That lumped up in your throat,
Would you with glistening eyes seek
Fringes of my gown in the scarlet swirl
Would you let the howling wind
Play with the window drapes and whisper
In your ears – Hey wayward Death,
What thou shall part, thou shall unite!

Would you in your dreams
Hug me tight my love
To keep memories warm, until we meet
Across the bridge of forevermore!


Previously published by The Minds Journal at www.themindsjournal.com.







As we share a cup of steaming tea

O’ so warm, on a rainy day

Train of droplets slithering down

To lock their lips on a glassy pane


Rising up the browny brew,

A film of vapour twirls and swirls

A dance of intimacy that holds us tight

A solitaire of silence in your eyes


To read the full poem, click here 


What a Wonderful World !

What a wonderful world If everone was as treasured in life as in death




Winters are inevitable in life …

What matters is what you make out of it …

Wrinkle crinkle and perish;


Flaunt the scars with pride,
And bloom all over with renewed vigor !

Wish You A Happy New Year !

May you have the strength to break the shackles of routine
May you have the will to rise above the mundane

May you tread, off the beaten paths
Collecting pearls of learning, on your way

May you be somewhere, where you have never been
On the sun-kissed sand with windswept hair
Wading in the waves, wallowing in its ripples

May your eyes gorge on the ravines and chasms
Gaping in wonder at the snow-capped peaks

May you lose yourself in a well-crafted book
May you earn the love of a wagging tail;
The trust of a little child

May you pause, to watch a bud in bloom
May you feel the silence of the swirling snow
May the rain drench your soul and wash away the blues

May you pursue a passion for pleasure
Not for the riches, not for the glory
Just to keep you sane in a world insane

May you be blessed with a friend
Who will stand by you, no matter what
May your heart be treasured by the one you love

May you widen your mind a wee bit more
May the tears make you smile brighter
May the sorrows make your deeds kinder

May you have the courage, to do what you always wanted to
May you be brave, as the child in you!

This is my wish to you and self, this New Year eve!


All Rights Reserved        © Forever Free 2014

In case you ever wondered – Here’s Mrs Claus

Now that people are closing their chimneys with exhaust hood, how is Santa ever going to climb down ?


Art and thought by my little boy


In case you ever wondered, Marks and Spencer has the perfect answer : Meet the cool, calm and collected Mrs Claus !


Here is a more detailed post on the advert by slipperyedge.com

Wishing you my readers and fellow bloggers, a very happy Christmas !

All Rights Reserved        © Forever Free 2014

Do you write five poems a day ?

Someone asked me the other day.

Do you write five poems a day ?

That perfect day flashed before my eyes. Trash has emptied itself… Meals cooked themselves… Children have grown large receptive ears… I could almost see my washing machine climb the stairs on its mission to hang the washed clothes. I sit by a bright window, framed by a beautiful sunny landscape, chirping birds flitting on my windowsill. Words just flow from my pen in volumes, filling up the pile of crisp papers on my cosy tabletop. Wow ! What a blissful scenario !

Well, it seldom happens this way.

More often than not, I am rushing to catch a train, sitting through a boring presentation, standing in the hot shower, or slicing potatoes for a meal, when a notion is conceived and gets lodged in the soul. It could have been triggered by the shimmer of melting snow dripping from the trees that I walked under, by a word that I chanced upon in a conversation, or by the pain I saw in a bearded stranger’s eyes. Whatever it is, there is only one path ahead. It is pointless (at least in my case) to hurry and write it down at this point, for it is as tiresome as a woman in labour trying to push the baby out, even before the onset of her final contractions.

So, I just let it be. Slowly as time progresses, the notion starts to whip up emotions within me until my whole self is ablaze. The ecstasy, anger, agony or despair that builds up, consumes me to an extent that I simply must vent it out. It is at this point, when I have my seams bursting, that I write. Words flow unbroken and effortless culminating in sheer euphoria; my soul, a sea after the storm. My baby is born. This and only this, is the primary reason why I write.

Of course, no word was ever written, that doesn’t crave itself to be read. I am no different. After the bliss of creation and seeing your soul roll out into words in front you, the next step is dressing up the baby and presenting it to the world. So, I do minor tweaks, such as, search for a better word to use or do a more proper line break scheme. Then, I sit back with hope, and watch my baby take the first steps gingerly, out into the big wide world.

The third and the most painful stage is, if and when your words fail to strike a chord with your readers. More so, because it is nothing but your raw soul, that is at display.

Still writers write. Why? Because, they won’t have it any other way. Once you have experienced the jubilation of creation, it’s very hard not to. I have been part of three poetry anthologies till date and am also part of numerous online writers’ groups. I have met so many learned people in these forums – PhDs, medical doctors, professors – writing poetry, even if it provides them with no material gain. I have met people grieving the loss of a loved one, those battling serious illnesses, those who have survived personal tragedies.

Why do they write?

I can think of only one reason. Writing is cathartic. It cleanses your mind and sews up your tattered soul, making you ready to meet life head-on, yet another day !

And incidently, this marks my 100th post on Foreverfree 😇

Inspiration courtesy: A post by a friend, Radhika Gopakumar on her blog insanereverie.in
Read the post here > http://insanereverie.in/when-words-get-stolen/


All Rights Reserved        © Forever Free 2014


Mama! He is irritating me

What did he do ?

He is looking at me !

Five minutes later ….

Mama! He is irritating me

What did he do now ?

He is NOT looking at me !

“Cocooned Verses” on The Minds Journal

A poem on me, by me   –  on the The Minds Journal 

Please consider rating the poem on their website http://themindsjournal.com/cocooned-verses/


All Rights Reserved        © Forever Free 2014

Quotables !



All Rights Reserved        © Forever Free 2014