A Reality

I resign myself to perpetual showers,
Disappointments with the rain
But with the new year approaching
I find earnest hope again.

Hope for an adventure,
Hope for a smile
Hope for success and achievement
Inspiration all the while.

Go riding on my dreams,
Sailing on wide seas
Joyfully come back after
Celebrating my victories.

At the end of the new year
I do hope to see
That once I had a dream
Now I have a reality.

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Just a Child

I can’t remember
how I came to be a child
midst of darkness and frolic
and the mazes of childhood
roaming paths unknown to many
yet knowing the world will care.

Hand outstretched, I plead
say- to be or not to be
feel free to ask of me a favor
but none too big to accomplish
beyond my reach, my tender brain
my immature soul and loving embrace.

Flowers have been my companions
to create a wonderful simulation
yes, a world of my own, a lie
is what I crave to live in
and grow up in, far from
rules and taunts, just to be what I am.

Never very special, yet loved, I know
but did not before. I cried tears
till dry eyes gave way to angry words
and neither did I repent
should I? I ask, and why?
No care for tears, why for family?

Glowering at unfair praise, to rivals
fits I threw many, no one understood
as to why, little child, were you a nuisance
not the sweet angel that children can never be?
they ask, and I have no reply
I just cry, and they stare, as if children don’t cry.

And they can say as much as they can
but will I listen? maybe not
but all I know is they have no right to make
me listen, if they did not listen to me
and understand my pain, before
asking for my help with their troubles.

I will love, every creation must
but, will I be wrong as always ?
I think not, they have no right
to control my emotion as well
just because I am a child, an I not
live free, and be bound by duty?

I will lie, yes, and not care for ones
who pushed me out of where I belonged
my age, was not my decision
then why be punished for it?
punishment, sure as I am a bird
will never last long.

But words will bond, be drilled
into hearts of fame; beloved
children will hate the world for
making their decisions
uttering their words, and
changing the world from the original.

Iconoclast of Childhood

My birth has touched revered soil,

Where people bury their heritage,

From the land which radiated strength,

From the time it gained independence in war.

At midnight, our soldiers rose.

 

I rise from the talented hands that held me,

Passed on from ancient ancestry,

Blow away, wind! Over my child, they said,

In heavy rain, humid heat, and frost.

 

I am from the land that honors its fallen,

And its handicraft made from blistered hands,

From everlasting love, and patriots many,

From the northeast of the rich peninsula,

By the music of the song that carries overseas.

 

Merry mutiny, disagreeing sisters,

And Frances, a childhood possession,

That now grew up to be a charming maiden,

At least in minds that cherish dolls.

 

The words that held a significance,

Eat up! Don’t make a fuss!

Be the best in what you love,

And I’m from the hands that sold,

Worli art and Madhubani paintings.

 

Basil and raw turmeric, always followed a cough,

Kitchen smelling of spices, in eagerly awaited dinner,

Colored lamps gave a golden hue,

Felt like a haven, friends a couple paces away.

 

From words did I grow up,

Sanskrit, French, Hindi, and Bengali,

Kathak dance performed amidst culture,

Of my family and country alike.

And then it all fell away.

Within My Life

I’ll never, forever, ever be,

What you were beloved to me,

I’ll never plead to the heavens to recreate you,

I know you were a beautiful lie,

But you could never bear to be true.

You’ll never be true ever,

But just lie to me forever,

So I just wished one wish,

For you to be gone,

I can’t believe it was granted,

And for once, had I won.

 

But you never loved me,

Whatever the hugs may have meant,

Whatever the kisses may have whispered,

You never came back, once you went.

Away, away, and far beyond,

Behind the secretive mountains, and the silvery pond,

You plunged into the depths, were never heard of again,

Yet I spoke of you with love, while people nurtured disdain.

 

CHORUS

 

You may have been yourself,

But you were never the one to love,

Never the one to see, not the one to be,

No qualities from the soul above.

No fresh tears on those blue eyes of yours,

No aims, no goals, none of the words of prayers,

It was all a great whirlpool, went right through,

It was all a fantasy to make me love you.

 

For your letters are still with me,

Bound with those red ribbons, torn with age,

And I try to go deeper and understand,

But memories still flood my heart and mind,

And I’m too afraid of what I might find.

 

Night after night, you helped me faint,

To sleep, and delve into a trance,

We twirled, we laughed, we shared as well,

Holding each other still in that frolicking dance.

We didn’t think of the coming future or our past,

But we simply weren’t destined to last,

Because as we were clueless, happily so,

The loved not, but hatred was still incognito.

 

Gleaming in those fake diamonds, we,

However we fought, we were unable to see,

I didn’t know you motives, your intentions,

You never knew how much you meant to me.

For, though we were like sisters, we couldn’t be-

Bonds unconnected, or sacrificing family,

I thought the love was real, or at least the care?

It was all a scenario, simply to ensnare.

 

CHORUS

 

You may have been yourself,

But you were never the one to love,

Never the one to see, not the one to be,

No qualities from the soul above.

No fresh tears on those blue eyes of yours,

No aims, no goals, none of the words of prayers,

It was all a great whirlpool, went right through,

It was all a fantasy to make me love you.

 

For your letters are still with me,

Bound with those red ribbons, torn with age,

And I try to go deeper and understand,

But memories still flood my heart and mind,

And I’m too afraid of what I might find.

 

You died still in my arms, having forsaken,

You said you’d return, I never asked you when,

So you just were gone one fine day,

I couldn’t bring you back, once you had gone away.

So I just looked at you pictures, learnt you by heart,

It was a cruel end to a compassionate start,

But however was I to repent?

When would you understand it didn’t depend?

On you alone?

 

Or was I just another girl to be,

Another thing to cripple, and then set free,

Just one more second would you have been alive,

I really would myself, have taken your life.

 

CHORUS

 

You may have been yourself,

But you were never the one to love,

Never the one to see, not the one to be,

No qualities from the soul above.

No fresh tears on those blue eyes of yours,

No aims, no goals, none of the words of prayers,

It was all a great whirlpool, went right through,

It was all a fantasy to make me love you.

 

For your letters are still with me,

Bound with those red ribbons, torn with age,

And I try to go deeper and understand,

But memories still flood my heart and mind,

And I’m too afraid of what I might find.

 

Hi…. You could practically call this one of my first attempts at professional songwriting. Comments and feedback are really appreciated, as this is to be entered for a competition.

 

 

Miss Conceptions- The Poetic Expressions of a Young Girl

“Out of the innumerable ways that you may have tried to find your inner soul, this book is the strongest. Miss (Aliyah’s) Conceptions will continue to strengthen you by the light of sunrise. A variety of topics, ranging from love, beauty, sorrow, success, to nature, will bring you into an imaginary – or real, as you imagine it – world, where joy and poetic emotions have no end. This book stresses on emotions very much. Why? Just try deactivating your emotions, and then make an attempt to enjoy life. It’s difficult.

These poems are best understood when they’re felt by heart. Each of the poems conveys a message which will eventually prove a great help to mankind. Over the centuries, many great poems have been composed. But these poems are a summary of life, which accurately sum up your life for you. This book is going to help you know yourself. Snuggle into your favorite reading corner, grab a cup of coffee or tea, and put a Do Not Disturb sign on your door. Enjoy.”

 

Now available on amazon.inamazon.comamazon kindle, and goodreads, this book is an absolute essential for every poetry-lover.

The Blogger’s Experience Meet

It’s time for the first event in the month of June, when this website, Aaliyah’s Wishland, celebrates it’s birthday. And this event is designed especially to commemorate memorable experiences of blogging, and of nurturing a website.

Last June, when I created Aaliyah’s Wishland, I never did see how it would turn out. I just came across blogs, and I thought it would be nice to have one of my own. Now it’s surprising to see where it has got me online. And I have heard a few other experiences like that as well. Of course we have wordpress.com to thank, but I also have my followers, my visitors, and my blogger friends to thank.

So, I would want a few memorable experiences of writing on an online blog to share here on Aaliyah’s Wishland. Anyone who wishes to share their experiences, is most welcome to do so. Just e-mail me your experience at aliyah.ban@gmail.com, along with your name, and your blog name and address. The deadline for the stories is June 8, 2017. Submissions may start from today (June 1, 2017). Please remember to keep it short, and not too long. After the 8th of June, there will be a post on this blog, which will feature all the shared experiences.

Dear friends, thank you for all your support, and best of luck to all your blogs!