List of the most popular hashtags for theme #MODERNPOETRY

A great fire burns within me, but no one stops to warm themselves at it, and passers-by only see a wisp of smoke - #VincentVanGogh Sir, kuch aisa hi haal mera bhi hai! . #baawri_basanti

His 1000-watt smile under the dim light of the car made him sexier than he actually was. His 5 feet 11-inch lethal body, almond-shaped eyes and perfect manners made a posh exterior every girl fell for. But I fell for the animal he was. He was honest with me. And I was real with him. . 'I missed you,' he said. 'Did you miss me?' he glanced at me while racing the car on Ambala-Chandigarh highway. 'No. I didn't.' I lied. He pressed the accelerator harder only to stop on a secluded road. It was dark already, but his intentions were darker. 'So,' he said while leaping onto my side. 'You didn't miss me.' I looked straight into his eyes but before any word could come out of my mouth, he was inside it. Then he came on top of me. He kissed my neck and inhaled on it. . 'You wear the best of perfumes. You know when I led my troop to that village last week, I was buttoning up my shirt and thought of how you smell. Oh, you make me so hard!' He went back to his seat, reclined it and pulled me on top of him this time. . 'What if someone comes? You know the kind of crimes that happen these days?' I was genuinely concerned. 'I killed a terrorist with my bare hands and my name is recommended for Shaurya Chakra. You think I can't handle this shit?' he raised his eyebrow with authority. 'You did that for the country.' I replied. 'The country is mine madam and so are you. I know how to protect both,' he said and hugged me tighter. With that line, he made me his. He owned me with that line forever. I was with a man afterwards but I only belonged to him. . We listened to the entire album of Kal Ho Naa Ho thrice that night. We spent the night kissing, telling dirty jokes and promising to be with each other forever. . In the wee hours when we were heading back home, he stopped at a dhaba and offered me a cup of tea. When I refused, he said, 'Pe le pahadan kaali nahi ho jaayegi.' And that was the last time I had chai in my life. . He left me and my love affair with chai ended. . *The evocative picture in the post is by a dear friend who is not only an award-winning photographer but also supremely talented architect. @streetstudio_bw thanks Rajan for the picture. #baawri_basanti

I'm very disappointed. Despite my risqué writing, sometimes almost vulgar, all I get - cute, sweet and ma'am. Yeh munni kabhi nahi badnaam hogi logon. Now, I will creatively sulk with an old novel with a sadak chaap Bhojpuri song playing in the background. Naah, I'm kidding. I will just listen to Bhojpuri songs back to back while ogling Ravi Kishen. . #baawri_basanti

I don't know the premise of this thought. Words flowed -- and -- here I present a part of my tragedy in the most subtle way I can. I want to say one thing - don't mess up someone's life for your own pleasure. Respect emotions above everything else. Emotional damage is worse than physical. It's not visible but the scars run deep. I also want to share this quote by #IsabelAllende, 'For women, the best aphrodisiacs are words. The G-spot is in the ears. He who looks for it below there is wasting his time.' . I've reached a stage in life where I don't even look for words, I care for actions. Words are cheap. People use it freely. Your actions are the only testimony of your seriousness towards a relationship. #baawri_basanti

Don't do it, Don't even try, Seasons yearned for it, What autumn just complied. Don't you tuck, Fallen hair behind. Till the spring blows a whistle. Till the summer harsh up a little. Or else, you may allow, My fingers to tuck them in. To be close to those perfect lips, To feel the velvet of your skin. . To sing a song into your ear, And light up the evening a bit. Then, let the body do the talking, If only, you permit. . Stepping close I wonder, Beauty so sublime. Speaking only with her eyes, She pauses time. It's an old poem. I wrote it in 2012. I felt like posting it with this picture. Hope you like the poem more than the picture. Yes, that’s the writer in me taking charge over the girl in me. #baawri_basanti

Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; truth isn't. #MarkTwain summarized my life with this #quote. #baawri_basanti

Truth be told, you can't be angry with me for a long time, I will shower you with love, food, thoughtful gifts and poetry. But God forbids if I get angry -- I will give you a bloody hard time. Because I give silent treatment royally. Ask those who have witnessed it. I'm a very stubborn person. I can't handle lies, deceit, cheating and emotional manipulation. I prefer to stay away from such folks. This couplet is fun, though. Par as usual iss department mein bhi sookha hai meri life mein. Koi toh baat kare pyaar se. . #baawri_basanti

A Humble Dedication #baawri_basanti

If love was written on the bed, we would have been on New York Times Best Selling list. We were that good. But if love was to be felt like a warm whisper on a cold February night, we would have made each other deaf -- note the contrast. It was not our fault. We were young. Our bodies dictated our feelings. Maybe, we didn't know how to love anyone at that age. We knew the kind of love we saw in the movies. We didn't read poetry, then. Even if we did, we only read the roses and didn't think of the unmentioned thorns that grow with it. Love was linear to us, not multi-dimensional - one kiss, a phone call, and a handsome boyfriend. And that linear love resulted in only one emotion after our breakup. It made me angry. I held onto that anger till 24. Then, time took care of it. You become that memory I buried in the someone's backyard. Well, I was afraid of even burying it in my own. You were my biggest mistake. I moved on but carried the dead weight with me all the time. If I liked someone, I doubted him even before the first date. I didn't trust the compliments. I believed all promises were fake. I thought love was to keep the bed warm, not the soul. I took one man's fault and blamed it on men. I cursed men when I should have picked up the broken pieces of my heart and created a beautiful mosaic. But then, I was angry. I was angry because I didn’t understand love. It was only with age I understood the real meaning of it. Love is not about the longevity of a relation, it’s about the tiny moments we create. Love is not about growing old together either. If you grew as a person even after your breakup, love has served its purpose. So, I did one thing, one evening I sat down and asked myself, ‘What have you given me?’ At 29, the answer was - the ability to love better. Because of you, I know what is love and how to love. I know whom to love too. I know the ‘why’ of love as well. My only regret was all those years I was bitter. I wish I could go back in time and smoothen the arid patch of my life. I wish I could go back and bloom. P. S. Something happened which reminded of this post. Say aye if this resonates. #baawri_basanti