Summer

Sitting

Under

Mild

Monsoon

Eating

Raspberries

Cooking

Creativity

Outshines the

Ordinary recipes yet

Keeping

Its flavour and

Natural

Goodness

Today

Tomorrow

Of the

Dreams that

Arrested

Yesterday

Beauty

Bringing

Enormous

Admiration along with

Undeniable

Timeless

Yearning

A New Life

The flame sways and dies.
A match struck to give it life.
It smiles brightly now.

Published!

My poem got published in the weekly In-newspaper magazine Us ( The News International) for the very first time.

The Art Of Camouflage

By Maryam Mirza

A crevice

in the vast

expanse of land

is my abode.

An insignificant

fissure

in the fathomless

terra firma

is my dwelling.

Search for me, 

if you can.

Impossible

it will be.

For I have mastered

the art of

camouflage. 

Yay me!!!

Emotional Upsurge

Brimming, overflowing, spilling

Gushing, splashing, flowing

Surging, erupting, eroding

Boiling, bubbling, simmering

Fuming, raging, steaming

Sedating.. receding

Falling and rising and reaching a climax.

They govern my life.

Breathless

Before I

Realised

Everything

Around me

Turned

Heaven-like

Leaving me gasping for

Every breath that my

Stunned

Soul took

On Hope

You are a part of me

and I'm a part of you

Our souls are one

and our hearts too

Soon we shall be together

There's no need to feel blue

Life shall bloom again

Our joys many and worries few

So I lift up my hands in prayer

and pray with a hope anew!

Equal Intensity

Love and hate.
Equally intense.
Yet polar opposites.
Divided by a fine line
that doesn't take
long to cross.
A single sentence
can pull the trigger
of resentment
causing emotions
to spill over
the other side.

The Angel

Her halo shines and glistens.
But her prayers they go unlistened.
She does His bidding,
abstains from sins.
And hopes someday He'll listen.

Love

Lots

Of

Vivacious

Emotions

Mia Goes Solo

New blog on the block...

Que Sera Sera: Life of Desi Burger.

Random rants, ramblings, musings, anything and everything under the sun =P

But this doesn't mean I'll stop writing on Fantasy Front. I'm still there

Ciao

Alive Still

Alive still.
Heart beating blood
he stumbles
on the ledge
breathing dirt
and musty grass
and a scent
he had long forgotten
the scent of hope
of life
of freedom
away from the stronghold
of tyrrany
but it is a road
with daunting tasks
so little done
so much to do

Childhood Never Leaves You

I had a first time experience of making a paratha today. I was on my own and that was actually good!

So I rolled a portion of dough on the flour board and it took up a strange shape, not a circle, not a square but like an irregular blotch of ink. While working with the rolling pin I could not help but reminisce about my childhood when my elder sister and I used to make bread with play dough in a kitchen set up with toy utensils in front of the mirror on the dresser.

It was the time when food was almost any colour and plasticy in texture, could be served cold ans stored for months. Good were those innocent days!

Her Little Life

Sunlight slashed through the blinds sending a bar code of rays onto her pale, slumberous face. They caressed her, tickled her awake, till he eyes were fully open, reflecting the golden flecks. The white cotton sheets, the satin of her fantasies, rustled as she freed herself of them. The bed creaked with relief as she stood to support her own weight; it wouldn’t be long before it gave way, hopefully she wouldn’t be in it when it did. She dreamed of making it big one day, becoming larger than life. But that would have to wait, right now the leaky faucet beckoned.

Wilderness

Wandering

In

Loneliness

Deathly

Emptiness

Roaring

Noises

Embracing

Sudden

Silence

Ramblings - I Hate Maths

I bury myself deep into my mathematics textbook, allowing calculus and analytic geometry to wreak havoc in my brain, in the hope that it’ll help me absorb some theorems. I have no idea why I let my mom talk me into taking mathematics in college. It makes a weird combination with my other majors; Economics and English Literature. I hate Math, numbers play tricks on me. Words are a lot friendlier; they go with a flow, almost liquid. And at least x doesn’t have a million different possible meanings in English.

Birthday

Being the world to someone

I brought so much joy

Receiving twice the affection

Tenderly showered with

Hugs and kisses

Days go on

And I turn another

Year old

Prompt # 1 at AcrosticOnly

The Work Of Art

The brush flew over the pale canvass lazily. The tint darkened with each stroke. The babyish glow turned to a faint blush, delicate and flattering against the pallor. The artist kept on working to get the desired shade. The brush swept and rose, swept and rose for the last time; perfection reached. She looked it into the mirror and smiled at her work of art.