Tag Archives: poetry

Love & Misadventure by Lang Leav

Book Title: Love & Misadventure

Written and Illustrated by: Lang Leav

Published: 26th April, 2013

Publisher: Andrews McMeel Publishing

Pages: 163

Genre: Poetry

My Ratings: 3/5 🌟

Backstory: I was first introduced to Lang Leav’s poetry about 5 years ago when I came across her Facebook posts. They were so lovely to read. I would read those snippets and could easily relate to them. But then I stopped logging onto Facebook every so often- and after a while, I stopped entirely. Slowly I forgot all about her writings. Years later, one fine day while exploring some books at a local second-hand book stall, I came across her book! It’s an original copy, printed in the US but I got it for such a cheaper deal that it made my day!

Review:

This book is divided in three sections; Misadventure, The Circus of Sorrows and Love. The three sections of the book, flows beautifully and perfectly one into the other, forming a story. The writer speaks about beginnings, endings, love, hurt, confusion, trust, betrayal, past, sadness; basically every element within a relationship. She tries to bring positivity even within the hurt. Some of the poems – or should I say, ‘snippets’ – are very raw; instead of relying on false hopes, she states the facts in a very practical manner.

I’ll accept that haven’t read much of poetry, so I do not have a firm ground to compare this book with.

One of the poems in this book that I really loved: It is titled – ‘Some Time Out’

“The time may not be prime for us, though you are a special person. We may be just two different clocks, that do not tock, in unison.”

— Suri


What is your definition of love? What does love mean to you? Do suggest me some poetry books.

Quarantine Musings #10

I miss the beaches

and the mountains.

I miss our esplanade

the Marine Drive.

I miss the rides

to the markets and the malls.

I miss the bookstores

the smell of new books.

I miss the freedom

to just walk, and walk and walk.

— Suri


What are Quarantine Musings? Just some random, trivial, light-hearted (or maybe even deep?) thoughts that pass through my mind during these lockdown days.

A Readathon And More…

Hello fellow bloggers!

Have you ever participated in any Readathon? I’ve never done it before. But well, I’m participating in one right now, the 24in48 readathon which is an international readathon. Check their site for more details: https://24in48.com/social-landing-page/ you can still sign up now. Prizes will be awarded only for those who sign-up.

The goal of this readathon is to complete 24 hours of reading over the weekend i.e. in these two days- Saturday and Sunday which is 48 hours, we have to read upto 24 hours. The number of books we read, the genre and the type of books that we want to read can be selected by us. Even if we don’t complete the full 24 hours, we still devote our time to reading, right? So that’s a win-win.

I’m currently reading Circe by Madeline Miller. I’ve read numerous reviews about the book but not one negative feedback. So I’ve decided to read it during the readathon.

It’s been so long since I’ve had a casual post like this on my blog. Just to talk with you guys! How is everyone?

Do you read poetry? Do you write poetry ?
I had read the first half of this book, Gitanjali, many years ago; but never finished the book. To those who don’t know, Rabindranath Tagore is greatly revered in India for his writings.

This book, which is basically a collection of his poems, was originally written in Bengali. While reading the first half, I came to a stage where I just couldn’t move forward, not because his writings aren’t good; but because they are so good that I wanted to read them in the original Bengali language. I am of the opinion that some part of the content always gets lost in translation and I didn’t want to miss out on anything. But alas, I’m neither a Bengali nor do I know how to speak/ write Bengali. Conclusion? I’ve never read the second half of it in hopes of learning Bengali first which I never did. But I’m planning to read this book all over again, as part of the 24in48 readathon if I complete Circe first (which I genuinely doubt).
Have you ever came across the translation of a book and felt the need to learn a completely new language because you wanted to read the original copy?

Another poetry book which I’ve wanted to read since a long, long time is Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman.

On other note, I’m so close to 1k followers on my blog! The feeling is surreal. I’m really happy and glad to know that people read and like my writings. Thank you so much for your love. 💕

P.S.: As I publish this post, I’ve officially completed 6 chapters of Circe and clocked in 4.5 hours of the readathon. There’s still time to join in the readathon. It’s super fun! 😋🎉

Link of 24in48 readathon: https://24in48.com/social-landing-page/

– Suri

Just Keep Running!

I step outside
Soak in the afternoon sun
Call out your name
You turn to look
And then start running to me
I hold you tight
Cry my heart out in your fur
Hug you and share with you
All the stories and the hurt
You are attentive
You understand my pain
You listen to me, as always
The terrible things I tell you about
The weird thoughts that I carry around
The fights, the misunderstandings,
The fears, the anguish
I tell you all, but you judge me not

You silently wink that it’ll be alright
As I weep softly with dry tears on my face
We both lay down on the floor,
You on your tummy, me on my back
But huddled together like there’s no room
You were, are and always will be
The best support system of my life.

Yes, it’s been years since we last met,
It’s been some years since you left the planet
But I hope you’re happy, wherever you are
I hope you have a big and wide open ground there
And nobody to stop you, from running around
Because, wasn’t that always your dream?
To run, run, eat and run?

You showed me, no matter what happens
We should never stop running
Feel the pain and double the pace
You were magic, the brightest light in my life
I miss you, but wait, don’t you worry
For I’ll always remember the good old days
To inspire me to run again
And not lay gasping for your presence
For it will only weaken my soul

I’ll run again, I’ll live your dream
And thus I’ll make it up to you
To the days that we’ve lost
To the times that we could have met, but didn’t.

I love you, Sweety.

Note: Here’s another poem dedicated to my dog, Sweety who passed away around 5 years ago.

– Suri

#FlashbackFriday

When the old thoughts creep back in
and you feel cold underneath your skin

When the old days flash right through
and you think that it’s the midnight’s blue

When you start to run quicker and faster
but time catches you swifter and sooner

When your memory’s a blurry, crumbled picture
with a tiny bit of frown and a bit of smile, a dash of tears but sprinkles of hope!

Pause. Stay. Stop. And breath…
do not fall prey to the past’s agonizing bond.
But ‘begone!’ you yell out loud to it’s face
for only then will it shiver and abscond.


– Suri

P.S.: Poetry after sooo long, yaayy! Comment and let me know what do you feel about this poem. Did you like it? 😀

A Blank Sheet.

        Day breaks, courage fails. Name crawls, memories etch. Give it love, you take back fear. The doubt you had, becomes now crystal-clear!

        I feel like a blank sheet gazing, moving, trying to fit into the hollow sockets. The place that once showered love, now depicts only a pale face. A face which is half dead. A face which only pretends.

        I feel like a blank sheet thinking upon words. Words to spill out of me, for when I have none. Words to save me, from the moments of turmoil.

        I feel like a blank sheet, when I have to say. Say, to express, to tell them what I feel. But what do I feel? Is it then safe, to presume, that what crosses my mind at that instance is what I feel?

        I feel like a blank sheet when they want answers. The answers to the questions that I think so much about. The questions that I tend to ponder on and on upon!

        Yet, they say that I don’t care a bit. They say, I don’t think about the grave, important stuff. If I try and show them, my scratched, clear blank sheet, wouldn’t they all call me a bluff?
– Suri 

Missing.. 

I want you to sit besides me today.

I want you to pat my back and tell me to get up, to dust off the sorrow, to make way for light.

I want it to be like it was, in those days, just you and me, together forever. But of course, forever is a lie.

I want to tell you all those stories that you’ve missed out on.

I want to share with you anything and everything.

I want to relive the past with you.

I want to see you, to touch you, to feel your body rub against mine.

I want to play with you again, like we did then. Then. It feels so long and gone now.

Perhaps, now should’ve been a beginning to a new life, a new era. But I just can’t feel it.

All I want is to feel comforted by your presence. I want to wrap myself up in your fur once again. 

I’ve always resented change and you know it so well. I can’t handle change. And the change wasn’t even normal. It was large. It was EXTRAVAGANT!!

Yes, it was my fault to not be by your side when you needed me the most. But baby, I’m sorry, can you forgive me for that? It’s too much to ask for, but I know that you’ve got a very big heart. An heart unlike mine. So much unlike mine, my dear.

I want to see you again…..
– Suri 

Note: This piece of writing is about my dog who passed away a few years back.

The Theft.

Sense.

My wacky Sixth-sense.

Waking me up in the middle of night.

 

Guns.

The roar of guns.

Clattering the ground like fiery fireworks!

 

Chaos.

The recklessness of chaos.

Shuddering and awakening my worst fears.

 

Time.

Yes, our old enemy – the time.

Gave me a blurry version of four past forty.

 

Neighbours.

Our sleepy little neighbours.

Isolating us to figure out the truth, by ourselves.

 

Guys.

Seven sturdy old guys.

Ransacking the houses in prototypes.

 

Wish.

A sudden unexpected wish.

To be some place else but here.

 

Eyes.

My black bespectacled eyes.

Searching furiously for any movement, from the guys.

 

Ears.

My small elf-ish ears.

Straining to hear the low volume announcements.

 

Support.

The enormous longing for support.

This huge gush of emotions to cling onto somebody!

 

Lights!

Those bright focus – lights!

Flooding the place with warm rays of hope.

 

Men.

Some good, brave men.

Saving our lives while endangering theirs!

 

Siege.

End of the three-hour siege.

Brought a relief and took me back to sleep.

 

– Suri

 

 

 

The Ghost Residing In Me.

You were there when I needed you the most

Protecting me, from the hypothetical ghost.

But when you needed me, I was nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps, I’m selfish, self-centred, egoistic and mean!

– Suri

P.S.: Hello, friends. Here, I’m trying something new. It’s neither an entire poetry nor a prose! Maybe I could call it Verse-Writing! How’s it? My first try! 🙂

Oh Her Malicious Heart! That Jerk.

Her heart skipped a beat,

When it wasn’t supposed to.

It skipped a beat,

When those thoughts lurched towards her.

It skipped a beat,

And she couldn’t utter a word.

It skipped a beat,

As it dawned to her, that things aren’t really as they seem to be.

It skipped a beat,

As she realized, she couldn’t trust anyone; not anymore.

It skipped a beat,

When it failed. Yet again.

It skipped a beat,

To let her know, that she had become a bit more weaker.

It skipped a beat,

To say that she couldn’t carry the hurt only by her own shoulders.

Her heart, that roguish little brat; and the untrustworthy old-soul,

if only he knew; that she was now breathless…

– Suri

Note: Hello everyone! Here’s my fourth poem. Am I improving? Share your views. 😀