You will heal â¤ï¸

You will heal,

For our hearts are full of zeal.

I’ll sew the tendrons

Of your body,

I’ll wrap it in words.

Full of love and care.

Let me feel your pain.

Allow me to

Drive you insane.

Love is a feeling

So light, so tender,

So fresh.

Will appease your soul

And soothe your flesh.

I’ll sew them all,

Like a dress.

For you don’t treat me

Like the rest.

You heal me with 

Your glance.

I’ll let my words

Do the dance.

You be the sunlight

On my raw grain.

I’ll be your

Gentle autumn rain.

And never will you

Paint your walls

Blue again.

– Shreshtha Awasthi


Musings and Snippets


The first thing I ever wrote online was a Musing… 

Thus musings and Snippets evolved into poems..

But now I’ve continued again with snippets.

This was the first musing I wrote. A page on Facebook and Instagram named “tell.a.tale” posted it.

then, I wrote some more. 

Then I started using this amazing app Mirakee.

If you liked my musings.. check more of them by clicking on this link above. 🤗❤️

Out of the kaleidoscope.

Out of my kaleidoscope dream,

To this numb scream.

Where colors used to collide,

Saturating, till all of it was grey.

Like the drug they gave you,

Before you drowned into sleep.

Except, I couldn’t wake up.

Blocked and shunned,

I began to paint it all,

With the dark, black and grey.

All the music of the world

Got frozen and feckless.

The demons in my head,

Persuaded me to stay.

Numbness crawled like a centipede,

Fingers, they touched the sacred places.

Running in pain,

Needed the sun to shut the rain.

Now that I’ve grown up, 

I don’t like the coloured token,

Which once pleased my eyes.

Look at that river which flows direction less,

Rocks and mountain and sands and gravel,

They are a family now. 

                                        – Shreshtha 🌸


I’m trapped within myself

feeling like mannequin 

Wanting to be there with you

towards the horizon

under the stars

beyond these windows ceilings and bars

My mind is not small trap to escape

Scariest things I’ve seen

Alone, as I screamed

The urge to touch the sun

The appetit to have some fun

But the perspective of the time

This place isn’t a shrine

So I shouted at the clouds

Only to hear my voice aloud

Echoing of the rim

Circling back to me

Nobody’s home 

My mind and me

I have a world of imaginary friends

Scribbles so energetically

It just comes out poetically

Pondering on thoughts, tiniest

But to someone else

Soul trapped in the body

Creating its own heavens and hells.



Let me tell you the love story

Of the Sun and the Moon.

As I gaze them lovingly,

Through the window of my room
‘Who is this lady?

A silver subtle saint.”

Said the Sun, deeply observing

Her dents and craters and pain.
The Moon is dark and cold

But oh! Sun’s gravity,

For him, this move is bold.
The universe has always been dark

Then there is Sun,

With raging fire and spark.

Moon, she knew, 

She owed her beauty to him.
The awe of their love

Though, they were miles apart!

Little did the Sun knew,

Moon was his part.

Numb faces.

Numb faces

Illusion mask.

Toring them down

Is a difficult task.

Painful and burning,

I pulled harder

Through all the odds.

If only I can understand that face

In time I could uncover god.

The eyes; deepest section of library

Old books, all in peace and merry.

How relentless are those demons

Travelling through the tunnel of my eyes.

To know the forbidden truth and not cry?

Well, atleast they tried.


I would have 

I would have trapped the darkness

Under the mask of light.

Well, the monsters in my head

They held on to it tight.

Stuck to the written words

They made my vision blurred.

As I walked all the way alone

Damn cold night, a street unknown.

I would have buried my worries

Beneath the ground.

With the fear of later being found.

But just then warmth wrapped me around,

Pats me in sympathy , dumbfound.

Hi stranger! Where have you been?

You stalker in the shadows

Took me by the hand, took to somewhere new

I don’t know who you are but I’m with you.

In the world of black and white

When that road felt right

Did you just slowly peeled the darkness underneath my skin?

Oh on! Or was that just a vision?

Scary faces, beautiful monsters on a mission!

                                    ~ Shreshtha.

For the magician.

I fell for a magician once,

All charming and canny.
Never did he try to chase me,
I thought-“Too proud and sassy!”.
But I fell for him nevertheless.

Never did he need his showy wand,
Had it all in his deep eyes,
What he needed for the magic he unveiled.

Never did I smell the perfume he wore,
There he stood far away,
In his eyes, I could read- access denied!

But I’m sure I’m the one,
Who admires him the most amongst the crowd.
Thirteen, you consider it unlucky?
Ticket no. 1313 wasn’t the same for me.

He says, All of this is customary.
Well, maybe all I was just an admirer,
To stand up and walk out,
When the show ended that night.

👀 love or infatuation?

Eyes that’ll make you shy,

Smile that’ll make you spy.

A life that’ll make you pray,

A heart that’ll numb your brain.

Best love is the kind that awakens your soul,

And makes you reach for more.

That plants a fire in our hearts,

And brings peace to mind.

No dear a love which weakens you is No love!

For love is one which brings the best out of you.

And infatuation won’t heal your childhood wounds.

So the love is- whome you’ll bow down.

The Girl who dances on the rope.

They call me – The girl who dances on the rope.

Every morning I rise up with this name,
Walking on the wire, as my balance I cope.
People gathered to watch the show, illusion fame.

My skin soaks up heat,
Their eyes widen, as I step on the wire with my feet.
Yes, there’s nothing romantic about my dance,
But they don’t know my half concious state of trance.
I manage to give them my numb mechanical smile,
My daily dose of monotonous lie.

I remember the night we fled from the village on promenade,
When the blazing fire took all we ever made.
Mother held my back as she cried along all the way.
Never in my life I thought I’ll be living in these city lights,
Entertaining these dazed people, in a way it never feels right.

They stare at my skirt, my shameful knee,
No, I can’t blush, just something shouting from within -“set me free!”.
My mother tells me to stand in pride.
Atleast, we don’t beg on the road to the people who stride.

Mother holds me on my drunken father’s frown,
As my house of mud , collapses down.
All these heavy thoughts strike me as night sets through the window pane,
I’ll rise up to be the dancing girl again.

      – Shreshtha Awasthi.