Reflections.....

Aditi Srivastava
 Reflections..... © 2024 Aditi Srivastava
All rights reserved.

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reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or
transmitted, in any form or by any means,
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recording or otherwise, without the prior
written permission of the presenters.

Aditi Srivastava asserts the moral right to

be identified as author of this work.

Presentation by BookLeaf Publishing

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ISBN: 9789363316935
First edition 2024
 I dedicate this book to so many people who
have been a part of my journey, the people you
meet everyday, the people who have been a part
of your life since eternity, the people who you
are a part of, the people who held your hand
during the pandemic,that first friend in the new
city, the new friend you made while travelling,
those colleagues who you can't think your day
without, that cat of the building, the doggy who
you fell in love with, that child who just smiled
at you, the family away from your family in
your city and so on.......
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
I would like to express my sincere gratitude to
my lovely parents for their unwavering support
throughout the writing of this book. I could not
have done it without them.
 PREFACE
I have always loved poetry. I love the way it can
make me feel, as I always say “Let the poems
have you”.

I started reading and writing poetry when I was a

teenager. I wrote about innumerable things, I
would write about my friends, my family and all
the other random things that were happening in
my life. I wrote about my hopes and dreams, my
fears and insecurities. I wrote about the things
that made me happy and the things that made me
sad, the things that made me feel crazy and the
things that made me feel mad.

Being an enigma, writing poetry has always

been a way for me to shout out loud with those
bursting emotions. It is a way for me to process
my thoughts.
I hope that you will enjoy reading my poems. I
hope that they will make you feel something and
take you through the roller coaster ride of
emotions. And also I hope my poetry will stay
with you for sometime after you have finished
reading them and will probably bring a smile at
your face remembering some of my poems.
 The Dream of Globetrotter

I want to travel, to travel not but rather wander

in the world like a vagabond,
I want to travel maybe not by road or by my
foot,
But through my words not necessarily to a
destination,
But to a person’s heart with whom I had a
clandestine love affair,
And in my head, he is already a sweetheart.

I want to travel, to the vineyards through my

glass of red wine and those eyes that shine,
While I already had committed a sin of gluttony,
I want to listen to those melodies of Tuscany;
Sitting on a little blue chair and feeling the
happiness of the raindrops,
Watching the hues of pinks and blues,
Swinging my heart with the smile, as they are
glued.

I want to travel, and experience the night of

Northern Lights,
Maybe thorough a painting or a picture,
Having a hope to feel the serenity and beauty of
that night.

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 I want to travel,
To the hills and mountains with beautiful pine
trees,
And to get lost in the restless and yet sometimes
calm waves of the seas,
To the plains and watch the sunflowers smile.
Like most, I want to explore;
The goodness and adventures,
The happiness and madness,
The love and romance,
The unforgettable cuisines and sartorial
elegance.

I want to travel,
But maybe not in this time,
Maybe the world is yet to be healed,
Maybe the happiness is yet to be revealed,
Waiting for the times that are tough to end,
As till then we have prayers and just prayers in
every corner of the world, to send.

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 As She Never Flew Before

She lies lost with her injured wings, on the shore

of the vast sea and rides the waves alone,
When along comes the dolphin to show her the
way back home;
She holds on to his fins, gentle to the most
affectionate touch as she nestled around him,
His eyes could not hide the glee of the
reassurance,
And for now he knew she had too much;

He leads her through the water towards the

rising sun,
Opening for her all the horizons of hope and
faith as before there were none,
Towards her days of freedom from where she
can see through the glimpses of the beautiful
run;
He is a protector who protected her from the
rough waves and guided her through the
darkness,
He is a friend who healed her broken wings and
kissed her maybe which is not a goodbye,
As he knew for once that if was a hope that she
needed as her eyes never have shined this bright;

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 For now it is time for her to mend her wings,
As she never was this happy to take a flight back
home with the most beautiful memories to cling.

4
 An Old Man With Young
Eyes

As I sat on my old wooden rocking chair below

the soothing skies,
The random thoughts swam through the vivid
ocean of my perplexed mind;
Wondering if I am still old enough to ponder
about my ailments,
Or yet young to talk to the stars and dream about
the galaxies.

It is difficult to realise that my ailments are

lifelong,
As my heart still strives to beat faster,
When my companion who still calls me her
boyfriend,
Walks in the veranda struggling to hold a cup of
tea with her eyes sparkling in glee.

I wonder if I still look handsome wearing my

dentures,
And if my grey hair still have that charm;
Though my sight is weak and I might struggle to
find my spectacles placed on the top of my head,

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I am still curious about the fun facts which are
still unread.

My bones crackle when I bend down to pick up

my fallen pieces,
And meanwhile as I listen to the humming birds
my back yells in pain ,
As the lush green grass of my beautiful garden
drench itself in heavy rain;
I still find it difficult to accept that irregular is
my heartbeat and so are my bowels,
When my stomach growls as the thick creamy
mango custard arrives.

I am Eighty Five and as they say the spring is

yet to arrive,
And not to mention I have larger ills and still
make a cocktail of my pills;
Yes I am old and happy to survive,
Because it is amazing to be happy and alive.

6
 A Rented Home

It feels like I have everything with me,

It feels like I am safe though alone,
Yet it's not my home,
Because I live in my cozy rented home.

I do the same things,

Like I do at my home,
The corners are my safest place to be a crybaby,
Yet I am not getting loved ,
Just not getting cared,
Because here I am all alone in my rented home.

It's not mine,

It had never been mine,
I didn't use to like it,
Yet it gave me my safe corner,
Just because it's my rented home.

Years have passed by,

I still miss my home,
But now gradually I have started liking my
rented home,
Because it gave me a safe cozy corner and let
me be a crybaby,
When I was lost in search of my home;
And I now I am a vagabond in my rented home.

7
 New Girl in the City

As the sun bids goodbyes for the day and hides

itself behind those skies,
She stepped out quiet to conquer the new city;
She had dreams,
She had fears,
She was perplexed,
She was low in confidence,
Yet She had the courage to let herself free with
her vision clear.

The city glowed up bright,

Just to welcome her night,
She ran into joy when the gentle land breeze
patted her delicate face,
As she walks along the beautiful trail,
That was the one of those nights when she slept
tight.

She fell with the burden of her dreams and

picked her pieces everytime,
Yet her mind was at peace while all she wanted
was to shine,
The dreamy city always had her feathers,
And It gave her back the confidence that she lost
somewhere striving hard to reach the pinnacle,

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 And as they say the beautiful life comes full
circle,
The city presented her the freedom that she
longed for;
And now she is more the New Girl in the City,
As they have accepted each other,
And now she is painting her own graffiti in her
new city.

9
 Those Fairy Lights

Those fairy lights,

they listen to me,
And I listen to them.

Those fairy lights,

they talk to me,
And I talk to them.

Those fairy lights,

they seem to be like with their shimmer and
glimmer,
a human heart beating fast and yet struggling to
find a pace.

Those fairy lights,

they seem to be like a humming bird singing to
me her favourite song,
under the clear sky and on those shivering trees .

Those fairy lights ,

they seem to be like lovers who are anxious,
and yet they are exchanging glances and holding
hands.

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 Those fairy lights,
on one of those nights,
be with me,
and I be with them.

11
 I would like to be

I would like to be a bougainvillea tree,

Swaying next to a cozy cottage;

I would like to be the morning grass,

Smelling of fresh dew and flowers;

I would like to be the ocean,

Calm and steady,
Powerful and wise;

I would like to be a furry dog at a cute corner

beside a old vintage fireplace,
Warm and sleepy,
Snuggling into the blanket;

I would l like to be that first feel of sun on my

face,
Warm and comforting on a December afternoon,
Like a sunshine;

I would like to be like a cool breeze before the

first rain,
Quite and peaceful;

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 I would like to be a painting,
Being admired by all for the first time,
Boosting the moral of the creator;

I would like to be warm cup of tea,

Refreshing and yet strong;

I would like to be one day like me,

Lucid yet incoherent.

13
 The First Rain

As the pleasant wind blew

I heard it as if it has beautifully hum,
The panes banged against each other
And I knew, the first rain had come;

Against the plush green leaves

I heard it fall,
A beautiful spread
On many a trees huge and tall;

It came after a calm silence,

And performed a beautiful orchestra with that
perfect synchrony in place,
As if it was playing a trick
And left us all to chase;

As it opened up the fragrant florets,

The new found love of lovers bloom,
The little children shook in mirth,
The peacock spread its colourful quill in the
perfect hour of the noon,
In the scent of first rain and earth.

14
 Forty Forth

A partnership like yours is rare;

Forty Fourth long years you’ve been together!
You’ve always been a loving yet a challenging
partners in a team which is nevertheless of all
the facts always been fair,
Always giving each other a shoulder in a sunny
and stormy weather.

Nothing can tarnish your love,

No matter how many if's and but's your
relationship have;
After all such incredible years, you're gold,
Your affection shines in a form of some funny
quips as you go through the years and give each
other a moment to grab,
And all I pray to God that you always have the
presence of each other to love and to hold.

Amma and Papa,

You just keep on keeping on like it’s so breezy;
However do you do it
Either by being glued to a television series for
the whole day or by just having the first morning
tea in the beautiful garden of our old sweet
home;

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 You make marriage look so easy,
Like there’s really nothing to it but always seeds
of laughter to be sown.

Both of you make me realise that marriage is

always not smooth but can be sometimes tough,
There are times when two humans can be
perverse and rough;
But that is not something that should break the
chain,
As you made me understood that this is
sometimes a human reflex and letting go is what
made the beautiful accord sustained;

My dearest parents,
You guys are great, you guys are tough,
You’ve made another great year together, and I
think it’s great,
I am glad that in an era of social media and stuff,
All that you care about are those little moments
to celebrate;
Happiest anniversary, from me to you,
You two are great together, it’s true.

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 To Men

To Men,
Who hold their sore teary eyes,
And blame it to wind;

To Men,
Who sneeze so hard that it gives a scare,
As they open the jars,
To something of which they were not aware;

To Men,
Who count the hours instead of stars,
And hence have lost their beautiful hair;

To Men,
Who have the chest swollen with pride,
Yet they need a conversation real to survive;

To Men,
Who have practicality to preach,
Yet they have in them emotions which have
stuck to them like a leech;

To Men,
Who feel pink and choose blue ,
As they sometimes have no clue;

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 To Men,
Who have those sleepy voices and messy hairs,
Who have those smile when they show care,
Who are beautiful on their softer sides,
With those long lashes and deep eyes;

To Men,
Who have so much to speak and justify,
When all they need is to sit beside and calm
down,
And be loved and chuffed,
With the happiest giggles in the town.

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 To Women

To Women,
Born with that softness and written for all their
battles and sacrifices and scars;

Yet if I get a chance to paint them,

I will paint them,
A little more beautiful,
A little more crazy,
A little less perfect,
Pushing the door when to pull,
Dropping the food on the whites when full,
And being herself like a little child as if she is
again in school.

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 The Bench

A rusty brown wooden bench,

Somewhere in the corner of the steep hill road,
As the beautiful sun is setting,
And the chirping birds are flying home;

I am biting gently my words with that loneliness,

Overlooking the setting sun and the rising moon,
Keeping the thought within,
I still don't know how is the day ending so soon;

Every passing hour of the approaching dusk,

Seems like a heavy moment,
Giving way to my pondering,
Questioning my ability,
My choices and my sanity;

How I wish,
There was someone giving a pat to my pride,
As there are so many thoughts keeping me
drenched,
And that's when I need someone for me to guide,
Sitting just beside me on rusty brown wooden
bench.

20
 My Face says it all

My face with all those lines say it all,

It might take you through my life,
Makes you meet with love and happiness,
And also with sorrows and strife;

These lines define me,

The person I am,
And the person I have become,
With all that loss, joy, madness and fun;

Never will I like any of them to be erased,

Because with all that those lines,
My life only knew,
How to speak through that face.

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 Rêveuse

Hold tight to the to your dreams,

Because if they suffocate or die,
Life is nothing but an injured pegion,
That can never fly;

They are keep you calm,

They can help you meditate,
They can give you hours of solitude,
They can make your world a better space ;

They can make you sad,

They might drive you mad,
They might give you hours of anxiety,
They can probably lead you to the times which
are not the best you had;

Still hold tight to the to the dreams,

Because if they decide to go,
Life is nothing but an unfertile piece of hill,
Frozen with snow.

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 The Night Lamp

The Night Lamp,

It shines bright,
With a calm beautiful warm light,
Giving me moments to hug myself tight;

With that warmth coming from behind the cute

lampshade,
The night speaks to me of everything;

It gives me chance,
To write letters to myself,
To lie down beside with the cushion to rest my
head on,
To blabber and to sing in the moments;

The cozy warmth,

Gives me comfort,
When I am feel weak and makes me strong,
It puts me together when I feels like I am done,
As everyday I pick myself from the broken
pieces,
And try to be a bit fun.

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 Those Love Birds

We don't look young and beautiful

as we used to,
except in that dim low light
in the subtle warmth of that candlelight,
When we sing
and play with each other,
When the skin is wrinkled
and the lock are silver,
And then in all sincerity and good faith
we say to each other,
You're are the cutest
and
You're are such a cutie.

Imagine or Ponder,
Two old people
behaving like this.
Its enough,
to make your happy.

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Somehow in a Delhi Winter

It is the Delhi chilling in winter,

everything seemed to be still,
yet moving a fast pace somehow;
Everything and everyone around was quite,
yet I was screaming somehow;
I was perplexed,
yet I was clear somehow;
I was sad,
yet I was happy that it was over somehow;
I was lost.
yet I got clarity somehow;
And then,
In that chilling Delhi winter,
I happen to see you somehow;
My frozen hands and heart,
Again remembered touching you and beating
somehow.

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Under that bougainvillea tree

Under the huge bougainvillea tree,

softly touch my hand,
pass me that book with a bright yellow rose
inside it,
and give me that soft first kiss;

Let the bright pink leaves fall on our heads,

as our lips hesitantly touch,
and as the gentle wind will blow,
one of the leaf will land on your cute nose,
and our lips will curve into big lovely cute
smiles.

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 My home as I call it

My home as I call it,

A place where one fine day I woke up;

A place where I was brought up,

And it finally taught me to walk up;

A place which still has a special vibe,

Where my dreams are still alive;

A place which which let me by own version,

While for many it was an excusrion;

A place with which I find soulful connection,

And which has in it my reflection,
And still gives me a direction;

A place where I had made innumerable beautifu

memories,
And cherished some "me time";

A place which still is my comfort,

Which has buried in it so much of my worst,
And yet it has etched in it's history, so many of
my firsts;

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A place which is closest and dearest to me,
Will stay in my heart forever,
As I live my life wherever.

28
 Bombay

There’s something in the "City of Dreams" as

they call it;
Amidst the humidity, rain, sunshine and dust,
There’s something in the air.

As I move from the Kaali-Peeli to Andheri fast

local to that rickshaw,
I can visualize the beautiful past meeting the
present;
As much as I am in awe with those fancy cars
and expensive stores,
I adore the reality of life from those dust-coated
buildings to the Dharavi slums,
As I see it all;

The City of Dreams as they say, has both the

happiest and the saddest life, all on one street,
Where people laugh, cry, sing, dance, pass
smiles, talk to each other and move on in just a
span of those one twenty seconds
And that’s when I know that I have found myself
while feeling all of the world’s emotions, at
once;

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As they say the city that never sleeps and fondly
call it “Bombay”,
Have in it all that magic that is hidden under all
that humidity, rain, sunshine and dust .

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 Those words on a postcard

I wonder if you are missing me,

As much as I am ;

As I feel the gentle breeze,

And the hear those waves;

As I ate your favourite chocolate,

And drank the red wine;

As I read that chapter of our favourite book,

And watched the favourite season of Freinds;

I wonder if you are missing me,

As much as I am ;
But I am happy you are,
As I read your words "Come back soon honey"
on that postcard.

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