Mr. WB (Writer’s Block)

A Childish and Innocent Tale of how I finally cracked my Writer’s Block and befriended Mr. WB.

We were sitting together yesterday again,

Mr. Writer’s Block and me,

Love is like a beautiful horizon I began,

Not really said he.

My pen swayed and I dropped it down,

As my words failed and no thoughts could be formed by my mind,

Mr. WB looked elated as I stared at him in despair,

He had again succeeded in blocking my word flow and tide.

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You know it’s fine, said he,

I pay a visit to every writer now and then,

Why don’t you just welcome me and let me be?

I haven’t visited my blog in days, I say,

Do you realise despite trying to be regular how erratic I seem?

All thanks to you, if truth be said.

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I looked at Mr. WB infuriated,

As he sat there sipping his tea,

I was sure he was smirking behind that cuppa.

He observed me for a while,

Glancing over his cup of tea,

I will leave in a few days said he,

Till then, there is not much you can do about it,

Can’t we be friends till I decide to leave?

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I left the room in a huff,

Deciding to roam on the roof,

Looking for inspiration in the sky and the trees,

Cursing Mr. WB whole heartedly.

This was when the breeze whispered to me,

Hey, she said, fallen in love again? Heart been broken again?

or Feeling alone again?

None of these, I replied, just that Mr. WB is on a long visit it seems.

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The breeze broke into a laugh,

I pouted at her angrily,

My book is soon to be out, I say,

I need to stay regular, you know.

She thought it through with lots of aahs and hmms,

She discussed with the trees and the skies,

At last she made her way to me and said,

Ever tried making Mr. WB your muse?

Give it a try you just might become allies.

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I was lost in thought as I came down from the roof,

Mr. WB was still sipping his tea,

Will you be my muse? I ask,

That will be new, he laughs,

So this childish poem was the end result,

When Mr. WB became my muse.

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The better part was we became bosom friends,

We ate and drank together,

And the best part was I saw him off later,

He seemed quite pleased as he said his goodbyes,

Next time he probably won’t visit without a prior call again,

But its Mr. WB and with him we can never be sure!

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All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar (VRa).

The Soul’s Urge©|2020

ENIGMA

A Short Tale of a Mysterious Woman

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Numerous are her shades. She is an enigma that takes ages to unfold. You have to be patient to learn all that she withholds because once she unleashes her various hues, you will be left yearning for more and more.

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All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar. VRa.

The Soul’s Urge©|2020

LAST NIGHT

A Tale of how the Corona Lockdown helped me talk to the Stars again Last Night

I talked to the stars after a long time last night,
I used to do that when I was a child,
Venus was shining so bright,
It looked at me and I looked at it,
We flirted a little,
Through my eyes and its shine.

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Last time I talked to it I was a child,
The air was cleaner,
And the sky shone brighter,
There was no polluting barrier,
Between me and the skies.

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The stars and I relived memories last night,
I asked them to pray for the humans and their plight,
A bird cooed, a bat flew,
I wasn’t scared,
I knew the nature and I were in harmony,
After a long while last night.

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Always isolated, I looked at Venus again last night,
My old friend, my partner in crime,
I realised I had been alone and had missed it all this time,
The skies are what we all share,
So, I prayed with the stars for all humans last night.

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I even bribed Venus to abduct me last night,
It winked at me and said,
Some day soon it might.
As I sat on the terrace last night,
After a long time since forever,
I wasn’t alone with my thoughts on a night.

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All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar. VRa©

The Soul’s Urge©|2020

GOVERNMENT JOBS

A Sarcastic and Hilarious take on India’s obsession with Government Jobs

I had been wanting to speak since ages,

You know about this,

Particular obsession with Government Jobs.

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In India, whatever or however you do it,

You should certainly apply for what?

A Government Job.

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Do you like Banking?

Nobody really asks.

You want a career in railways?

Again nobody asks.

Do you want to become a professor?

Nada, that’s again never asked.

Do you want to go into government administration?

AGAIN Nobody asks.

You have to sit for it,

Especially if your parents and relatives ask,

There is just this certain obsession with Government Jobs.

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You can’t sit at home and work,

That’s not how you earn,

An office and a respectable job,

People want to say proudly,

Our sons and daughters are government servants,

A nine to five job,

Just because, there is a particular obsession with government jobs.

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You have to compete for one little seat,

With thousands of competitors,

Some interested in it, some absolutely not,

Some actors, some writers, some poets, some artists and then some scholars,

All dying together as they sit for their trial of a government job.

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And Oh lord! If you don’t succeed in a few tries,

All hell breaks lose,

What will the society say,

The loss of respect,

Well what can we say,

Asking a fish to climb a tree,

That is what we should expect,

All, due to this obsession with a Government Job.

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It makes me laugh at times,

I mean I don’t like maths,

Was never good at it,

But if I decide to sit for trial,

Against my wishes I will have to practice,

Thanks to the obsession with government jobs.

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Next life if I arrive in India,

I wouldn’t want to be a human,

I would rather be a duck or a whale,

Or something unique like a Narwhal,

I would wade through life,

Doing things I enjoy or die an early death,

From a predator lurking around.

As I don’t really want taunts along with the support,

Just because I want to do works I enjoy,

Not sit on a job I don’t like,

All this, courtesy the obsession with government jobs.

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All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar. (VRa)

The Soul’s Urge©|2020

Letting Go

Tale of a woman who is ready to Let Go of the past and wants to start afresh

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It’s a funny story of life,

I fell in love with a man,

One with whom I never wanted to,

He loved another so I let him go.

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I fell for another, his friend,

With a heightened intensity,

Stood by him through hard times,

He started crushing on another,

Later fell for her too,

So I let him go.

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The previous man returned,

With new promises and more efforts,

But I still held the other in my heart,

Despite his loyalty,

I couldn’t invest myself totally,

Not one to twist my words for long,

I told him so,

Yet again, I let him go.

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The other man has many dreams,

He still is in love with another it seems,

I wonder if he will ever return,

But disappointments and dashed hopes I have had enough,

I have given myself a closure numerous times,

But this time a proper closure I do seek.

Might be a joke at times,

So the book I am writing will be the closure I seek,

A new beginning and two chapters closed,

That’s what I feel the ending will be.

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I am learning and growing,

I am changing and evolving,

I know it’s time for me to free myself of their snares,

It’s time for me to rediscover myself for what I am.

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Finally, I have realised it’s time,

As a friend I will probably still be there for them too,

I am proud of the woman they have forged me into,

Despite having promised a forever and eternity,

The woman I have become,

She is finally Letting Go.

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All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar. (VRa)©

The Soul’s Urge©|2020

Strange Dream

From VVe to yoU, Because VVe misses yoU

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I had a strange dream last night,
It was daytime,
I stood at my gate,
As you rounded the corner towards my place,
Bag in hand, you looked at me,
Oh! your charming smile had me hooked
all over again,
My heart fluttered as my eyes lowered,
Trying to hide the warm blushes,
There were emotions indescribable,
As I felt the warmth,
I hadn’t felt in ages,
My heart was where it belonged,
As my soul walked towards me,
I knew my wait was at an end,
I was complete,
I was home.

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“Because my heart may belong to my hometown but yoU own my very soul. I knew it was yours to belong from the moment I first set eyes on you. – VRa

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Note: My name starts with V and the person who inspired this their name starts with U. So the initials UV, yoU- VVe.

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All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar. VRa©

The Soul’s Urge©|2020

How I have been Disciplined

Because sometimes Capital Punishments can create a rift between Parents and Child, one that can never be filled

Note: This is not related to my book. Just a fleeting thought I penned.

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It was nothing new for me,
When my father hit me,
I had been disciplined since childhood,
With sticks and brooms and slaps and kicks too,
That was my parents style of venting out their anger,
And rearing the elder kid too.

I grew apart from them with time,
They never understood why I rebelled,
As I reached my teens I started losing my cool,
So it was nothing new for me,
When my father hit me.

I reached my twenties,
I found a partner and as he went through a harsh phase,
I wanted to be there for him, listening to him into the night,
It was something my father couldn’t digest,
At the age of twenty four,
It was again nothing new for me,
When my father took a stick and hit me,
I protested and I shoved him back, my mother called me crazy,
After all hitting back is not how I have been disciplined.

More than a year later I can still see the marks upon my waist,
A reminder of that ill fated day,
What had been my fault?
Was it wrong to be there for someone you love?
But then parents can do no wrong,
They have always reared us with so much love,
So I am not allowed to question them,
Or tell others the very same, what would society think of them?
And anyways also I should have been used to it,
Why would I even cry over this common occurrence?
After all it was nothing new for me,
When my father hit me,
It is just how I have been disciplined.

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All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar.

The Soul’s Urge©|2020

VINAYAK

“A Tale of Vinayak: a House of Bricks and Stones which is a Son, a Brother, A Protector and More”

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I wondered why they named our house,
My parents, you know,
An embellished Marble stands at the gate,
With the name Vinayak.

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With time I came to realise,
It held a deep meaning,
It’s the one of the many names,
That the Hindu Lord Ganesha holds,
If my devoted mother ever had a son,
She would have probably named him Vinayak.

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Come to think of it,
This house is akin to a son,
Each brick, each Stone was engraved,
By the hard earned money,
Of their own time and efforts,
Isn’t that what parents do for their children?
It’s certainly no less than a son,
Its the result of their own lifeblood,
This house called Vinayak.

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A few years Younger to me,
But it has seen all my phases,
From childhood to youth,
It has held my deepest and darkest secrets.
A great listener, my partner in crime,
My closest confidante,
It has seen me laugh, It has seen me cry,
It has supported me through in the Most Painful and solitary of times.

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It protects us all from the perils outside,
People say you are two sisters,
But I say NO, we have a brother,
More humane than many outside, Over the years HE has stood and still stands tall,
For people it might be bricks and stone,
For us it’s a son, a brother, Our Protector,
And HIS name is Vinayak.

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All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar (VRa).

The Soul’s Urge©|2019

THE LONE ORCHID

“Tale of a Lone Orchid who finds Friends in the Season of Love”

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It was the season of love,
In a garden full of flowers,
Surrounded by Roses and Tulips,
Carnations and Lillies,
Stood an Orchid all alone.
As the garden was raided by lovers galore,
To please their beloved,
In the name of love,
They plucked the Sunflowers and Peonies too.
But none of them entered the bog,
Amidst which the lone orchid grew,
Its bewitching beauty hidden to all.
And with its petals of delicate refinement,
It still stood tall,
With a rare yet radiant glow,
Gracious in the woodlands shade,
Proudly it stood alone.

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Unknowing to all a girl had been struck,
By its solitary charm,
The next day she quietly tip toed into the bog,
Entranced by its beauty she touched its petals,
Not one to disturb its solitude though,

The Orchid she never did pluck,

Instead she planted a few more bearing the same unique charm,
In the shade of that mucky bog,
Just so it wouldn’t be alone,
At the onset of the next season of love.
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All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar (VRa).

The Soul’s Urge©|2019

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P.S.: I know the flower in the photograph is not an Orchid but a Hibiscus. Orchids are my favourite flowers and this picture was the closest I could get to a picture with a flower and also the theme of the poem. Thankyou!

AN ETERNAL PROMISE

“A Tale of a Woman who has promised an Eternity to only one man in her Lifetime”

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Each time I talk to you,
I am filled with a warmth,
That words fail to describe.

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Each moment with you,
Brings time to a stand still,
My emotions an open book,
As I delve into their depths,
Everything, Only makes me realize;
There can never be another,
There is no other safe haven,
Not for me.

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I can’t promise an eternity to someone else,
Not in this lifetime,
Even if I failed to be your light,
The place you find peace,
Or your home.

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And as the tears flow down,
I just want you to know,
When it came to you,
Destiny never gave me a choice,
Love for you was preordained,
And ever since that happened,
Never once have I wanted to leave its snares.

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All Rights Reserved. Vanya Rajwar. VRa.

The Soul’s Urge©|2019