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★
oozey mess
EXPECTATIONS
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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tannertan36
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we're not kids anymore.
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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todays bird
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@poetessofeast
Meaning in English
Manachi (noun) - frame of mind, - state of mind
Meaning in Marathi
मनाची (manaci) / manācī, manaachee
मनाची निर्मिती mind making
मनाची उत्तरे mind answering
मनाची घालमेल mind loses
मनाची निर्मिती mind created
मनाची रचना constructive mind
मनाची निर्मिती creating mind
मनाची स्थिती coherence condition
मनाची शुद्धता mind clean
मनाची घालमेल among minds
मनाची निर्मळता mind numb
मानसशास्त्र म्हणजे मानवी मनाचा अभ्यास करणारे शास्त्र
I wish I was with you right now.
Not for anything special,
Not for big plans,
Just to sit beside you and feel your presence.
To talk about random things, or maybe nothing at all.
To share silence that feels full.
There are moments like this, when everything feels incomplete, because you are not here.
And no matter how busy I try to be, my heart quietly looks for you.
Because sometimes all you really want,
Is to be next to the person who feels like home.
And right now, I just wish that was you. 🤍🩶
what are we?
Friends? Not really.
Lovers? Not exactly.
Strangers? Never.
Then what are we?
A silence that feels safe.
A smile that doesn't need a reason.
Late-night talks without promises.
Goodbyes that don't mean goodbye.
No label.
No explanations.
No rules.
Just two hearts choosing each other without needing the world to understand.
I honestly don't know what to name this feeling anymore.
It doesn't fit perfectly into love,
it doesn't feel like simple attraction,
and it's more complicated, than a passing obsession.
It's just... there...
Quiet but constant.
No matter how much I keep myself busy
or try to push my thoughts elesewhere,
they somehow curve back to him every single time.
He slips into my mind in the middle of a song,
in the still ness before sleep,
in those little pauses of the day
when i am not even thinking about anything.
Letter to Grief
Dear Grief,
You arrived quietly, like fog slipping through unlocked doors— and somehow stayed.
I didn’t invite you, but you made yourself at home in my ribs, in the pauses between breaths.
Funny how you became my best friend. Not the loud kind— the kind that sits beside me when the world keeps moving and I can’t.
You taught me how to listen to silence, how to carry oceans behind steady eyes. You showed me that strength isn’t always standing tall— sometimes it’s lying still and choosing tomorrow.
We’ve shared long nights, cold tea, unfinished prayers. You held my hand when memories came back bruised, when hope felt like a rumor.
I hate you for what you took. I love you for what you revealed.
Because of you, I learned tenderness. I learned patience. I learned how to rise without applause.
So stay, if you must. But know this— I’m growing past you, even while walking with you.
With quiet courage, Me
December
The month winter softened its voice, and something quiet brushed against my world— a breath folding gently into my silence.
Months gone, yet this date stays— a warmth I still carry.
Lost between yes and no, right and wrong, I let it sail… and trust December to decide.
Warm Hands —
Your hands— soft, steady, yet they set wildfires beneath my skin.
The moment your fingers brush mine, my breath trips, impatiently waiting for that slow, certain lock of palm against palm.
And when it happens— when your fingers weave through mine, quiet but sure— a lot can happen in that single heartbeat where the world disappears and only warmth remains.
Hold me like this— not tight, just true.
Let our hands speak what our lips still whisper.
Learn from the clouds
Learn from the clouds— they drift without clinging, carry weight without breaking, and release what they cannot hold.
They change their shapes with grace, never mourning what they were, never fearing what they’ll become.
In their quiet passing, they remind us: movement is wisdom, and letting go is strength.
“पान आणि पंचतत्त्व” 🌿
गळणारं पान स्वतःचं वजन सोडतं, कारण त्याला ठाऊक असतं की पृथ्वीच्याच कुशीत त्याचं अंतिम विश्रांतीस्थान आहे.
वारा त्याला दूर नेतो फक्त आठवणींची चव देण्यासाठी, पाणी त्याची राख धुऊन टाकतं जणू जुने पाप स्वच्छ करतं, अग्नी त्याच्या अस्तित्वाला ऊब देतो नशिबाचा गंध उलगडत, आणि आकाश… त्याला शांतीचं अनंत छत देतं.
त्याच क्षणी पान फक्त गळत नाही — ते परत घरी जातं. जिथे शेवट नाही, तेथे रूप बदलतं, आणि जीवन परत एकदा सृष्टीच्या चक्रात सामील होतं.
✨ The House That Remembers ✨
The house that remembers… not one, but three — each stitched into me through shiftings and postings, through people, through friendships that turned into lifelong echoes.
It was a house of struggles, yet warm like an unseen lamp. It watched my mother rise at 4, radio crackling to life as if dawn had a voice. Her hands kneaded dreams between tiffins and steam, while walls learned what silent strength looks like.
A dust-free world, gleaming like discipline — I still chase that calm, that perfection she carried like fragrance on her palms.
Weekends smelled like heaven: slow-cooked love, spices humming lullabies, and cakes that travelled beyond our windows — sweet messengers of a mother’s love to every neighbouring door.
Books were my quiet universe, poems my only confession, a pen my forever friend lying open on the table — ink waiting like destiny in a cocoon.
That house must still remember my sighs, my fears, my silent victories, my soft celebrations… Perhaps my woven words still float like unseen ribbons in its air, settled between bricks like memories that never dust away.
Plants she nurtured still whisper her name — roots don’t forget the hands that sang to them.
Can time return what it once carried? Can childhood knock twice?
How I long to walk back, touch the doorknob of yesterday, and begin again — not to rewrite, but to weave one more story in the house that remembers.
🌺 “Red Krishna Flower”
In the hush of dawn, beneath soft skies, A crimson whisper, divine, does rise. Red Krishna blooms with fervent grace, Like love aflame on nature’s face. Its petals bleed of longing deep, Of secrets even gods would keep. A tale of hearts that burn yet pray, Of love that gives itself away. The wind bows low, the bees stand still, As if they feel the silent will — Of Radha’s tears and Krishna’s hue, Twined forever, in red and blue. O fiery bloom, both wound and balm, You hold in you both storm and calm. You teach the soul what passion means — To love, to lose, yet stay serene.
क्या तुम्हे पता है
मैं तुम्हे कहा कहां महसूस करती हूं?
शायद नहीं
आओ तुम्हे संग ले चलूं
वो मेरे माथे के दाई ओर
जो तिल है न
उसमें रहते हो तुम
जितनी बार आँखें छूती हूं
महसूस तुम्हे कर लेती हूं।
वो मेरी कलाई पर
तेरे छूने का एक निशान है न
तेरी उंगलियों में बंधे मेरे हाथ
सोच लेती हूं
बस अपने हाथों को देख देख
तुझे भी हर पल देख लेती हूं।
कमर पर तेरा हाथ सोच कर
हर करवट में खुद को उसकी
आगोश में समेट लेती हूं।
तेरी झप्पियां आज भी
मेरी पीठ में समाई हुई है
खुद को, उस से
कभी जुदा ही नहीं कर पाती हूं।
याद है पैरों में पैर और घुटने मोड कर
जब तुझे खुद से लिपटाया था
वो एहसास उन्हीं पैरों में
आजतक तेरी याद दिलाता है
सोच इन पैरों में तुझे साथ लिए
दिन भर
मैं कैसे घूम लेती हूं।
कानों में वो हल्की सी
तेरी आवाज
बुदबुदाता हुआ वो एहसास
वो तेरी बातों का मधुर स्वाद
जब भी अपनी बालियां
दिन में सौ दफा छूती हूं
हर बार तुझे सुन लेती हूं।
हर बाली को बीस बार
तेरे खयाल में
हाथों से सहला कर
शायद तुझे यूंही बेवजह
चूम लेती हूं।
तेरे हाथ
तेरी उंगलियां
जिनसे मुझे बेहद है प्यार
उन्हें अपने शरीर के हर कोने में
तेरी छुअन से आह भर लेती हूं
हर पल
हर क्षण
तुझे खुद में
मैं यूंही
दिनभर
सोच लेती हूं।
तेरे सीने की छुअन
और खुशबू
मेरी उंगलियों में
मैं
ओढ़ लेती हूं।
बस ऐसे ही बेवजह
मैं तुझे
हर पल सोच लेती हूं।
Moon my Muse
“There was a reason
that she was so romantic
about the moon.
It never asked her questions
or begged for the answers
nor did she ever have to
prove herself to it.
It was always just there
– breathing, shining, and
in ways
most humans can’t understand: Listening.”
–Christopher Poindexter
#moon #astheticmoon #moonart #night #muse #love #poetry #quotes #poemsonmoon #moonpoetry
Missing the Connect
We connected coz we were both charred. We understood coz we were both lonely and hurt. We bonded coz we were both broken.
We came close and I crossed the line I expected a lot I assumed a lot I loved you a lot
From a distance From a dream From a faraway place
You understood me so well You knew me better than me Even without saying it you always knew and read my mind.
Then, What happened to us? Where are you now? Why are we not together anymore? Which place can I find you? How will I find you?
बात सुनने वाला कोई
कभी कभी बात करने के लिए कोई चाहिए होता है पर पास मे कोई भी नही होता। कहने को दोस्त है, परिवार है, पर कुछ बाते आप सभी से नाही कर सकते। और जरूरत होती है किसी सुनने वाले की ना की सुनाने वाले की।
कोई जो बस आपके दिल की सुने, आपकी व्यथा को समझे, आपकी बातों पर गौर फरमाए। बस इतनी सी जरूरत होती है कभी कभी।
हम whatsapp पर, या अन्य जगहों पर कईयों से वार्तालाप करते है पर आप दिल का हाल सबको नाही बता सकते। आप चाहते है की आप खुल के बोल सके और कोई उसे judge ना करे, अपना मत या निर्णय दिए बिना बस आपको सुन ले।
शायद दिल की भड़ास निकालना इसे ही कहते होंगे। आज कुछ ऐसा ही दिन है। कई लोगों से chat और बाते हुई, उन्होंने कुछ कहा मैंने कुछ बताया, उन्होंने कुछ साझा किया, कुछ मैंने भी साझा किया। परंतु फिर भी दिल के भीतर की वो खिड़की बंद ही रही। वो किसी के सामने भी खुल नाही पाई।
काश की एक तिजोरी होती जिसमे ये सारी बाते बोल कह कर मैं भी बंद कर देती।
तुम कहते हो की हम एक दूसरे को समझते ही नहीं।
क्या इतना आगे हम बिना एक दूसरे को समझे ही बढ़ गए क्या?
तुम कहते हो मुझे सिर्फ लगता है की मैं तुम्हे समझती हूं
क्या मैं इतनी गलत हूं
क्या मैं इतने सालो में तुम्हे बिलकुल भी नहीं समझी क्या?
क्या प्यार थोड़ा नासमझ नही हो सकता क्या?
दो लोग जब साथ आते है तो अपनी हर ताकत और कमजोरी के साथ आते है।
मैं कहां गलत हो गई और तुम सही ये समझ ही ना आया।
तुम मुझे मैं जैसी हूं वैसे क्यों नही अपना पाते हो?
कोशिश करती हूं की तुम्हे परेशान न करूं पर न जाने कैसे ना चाहते हुए भी कुछ ऐसा हो जाता है जाने अनजाने की बात बिगड़ ही जाती है।