Being oblivion of the society,
She asked for a little empathy…

Always wondered why they giggled,
Another stone through which she struggled…

Living amidst the people,
Those who never understood her pain…
With her help seeking eyes,
All prayers when went in vain…

When all her expectations died,
When hope didn’t want to rise,
Tired of being frown,
She wrote her heart down…

All grudges jumbled upon the page,
And, dancing words gave her a new hope,
Writing be her new friend,
Poems became the new acquaintances…
The societal given pain,
After all was not in vain…

Priya Soni


The Dream

Everyday, he burnt himself under the Sun,
Bathing in the sweat,
But not a sight of complaint

Buying a piece of bread,
For the children,
Was his only ambition

Today also,
He could manage only a piece,
Let’em have all of it”
He told to his wife
Earning man of the house,
Was again on the hunger strike
They’ve to study,
They need it more…”
Yearning for their growth,
He kept lying some more…

As the sun arrived again,
He was there on the fields,
Sparkling eyes had the same dream,
Though frailing health couldn’t support any more…

– Priya Soni

Image Source: https://i.ytimg.com 

The Solitary

Talk to the moon,
But don’t be quiet…

Cry in the rain,
But don’t let tears well up…

Scream in the valley,
But don’t let words choke you…

Embrace the sky,
Keep your spirits high…

Caress the flower you love,
Not everything here is so tough…

You don’t have to walk alone,
Clouds be the companion against thorn…

Sleep in the arms of nature,
With the book that you nurture…
Wearing maturity as a lie,
Don’t let the inner child die…

– Priya Soni


Beneath a tree,
She sat like a stone…
Wearing old bruises,
Fighting with the cold wind…
Torn dress could not sustain,
All her efforts were in vain…
All alone she was left to groan,
With only the wind, that aided the moan…

Looking at the fireworks, she wondered
Millions of shooting stars, she assumed
Wishing for some food, her eyes sparkled
Looking at her folded hands, even God was stirred

Breaking the silence, a voice called her,
“This is the Diwali gift for you”, the lady told her.
Thanking her, she began eating with delight…
Her glittering face was now matching with the sky…

H A P P Y   D I W A L I 🙂

– Priya Soni


Apni taareef sun kar, yun khush na hua kijiye,
log yahan, insaan ki nahi, paise ki puja kiya karte hain..

raah chalte kutton ko berehmi se dutkaar dete hain,
par aapke “pet” ke liye, gift lekar pahunchte hain…

jeb bhaari ho to, TT muskurakar seat dilwata hai,
varna usi seat se hatane me waqt kahan lagata hai..

ghar me jitni mithayiaan, utne mehmaan…
gud-shakkar valon ke to aangan sune raha karte hain…

ajeeb vidambana hai ye,
yun to insaan anmol hai,
par har cheez ka mol karte karte,
khud hi ki keemat aankne laga hai…

ab har kisi ki muskurahat par ek prashn-chinh hai,
khud ko mili tawajjo, par ek prashna-chinh hai,
log yahan, insaan ki nahi,
paise ki puja kiya karte hain…

Vo Kehte Hain…

Vo kehte hain, rote hue nahi dekha kabhi tumhe,
Kya batayein ki, ab to aansoo bhi has dete hain dekh ke hame..

Hangama-e-hasti bhi bahut khoob hai,
Hai banzar zameen par lage ke jaise doob hai..
Is shor me, man ka sannata kahin gum ho jata hai,
Bheed me khojun sukoon, ab khud se milne ko dil ghabrata hai…

Yun to jhakm kayi hain,
Par kiske jeevan me nahi?
Chaho to inme maut ka sabab dhoond lo,
Chaho to apni muskurahat se inko davaa do…

Gar hain khushiyaan, to gam bhi honge…
Maan ja e dil, tujhe todne vale bhi kayi honge…
Unhi toote siron ko tu, ab jodna seekh le,
Gar hain aansoo, to rote hue hasna seekh le…

Nahi hai tera sangharsh kisi aur se,
Tu bas ab khud ko jeetna seekh le…   🙂


It was painful, and i cried.
they were here, cheering me up!
asking, to never cry again…

it is still painful,
but this time,
it’s me, and no more tears..
they are still here, but in shock.
shocked to see me like a rock,
describing me as insane,
said, it is necessary to show your pain..

can’t understand this disguise,
they can sympathize during fall,
but can’t stand with me, during rise…