Short Poetry

Ritual of distance to be completed with silence,

As entering in a blind lane.

Why should we do, to create any commotion,

Turned a fragmented moment

into the harmony of pain…

— Nidhi Suryavanshi


A Tribute to Ghalib

dil-e-nādāñ tujhe huā kyā hai

āḳhir is dard kī davā kyā hai

Oh errant heart, what ails you pray,

Finally, what is the cure for this ache?

ham haiñ mushtāq aur vo be-zār

yā ilāhī ye mājrā kyā hai

I’m ardent and he turns away,

Oh lord! what is this game you play?

maiñ bhī muñh meñ zabān rakhtā huuñ

kaash pūchho ki mudda.ā kyā hai

I am also capable of speech,

If only you could Just ask me what I want today,

jab ki tujh bin nahīñ koī maujūd

phir ye hañgāma ai ḳhudā kyā hai

If there is nothing apart from you, oh lord!

Then why is this turmoil and so much noisy fray?

ye parī-chehra log kaise haiñ

ġhamza o ishva o adā kyā hai

How are these angel-faced people?

What are these conventions of seductions and deceptions in a mid-way…

shikan-e-zulf-e-ambarīñ kyuuñ hai

nigah-e-chashm-e-surma sā kyā hai

Why this wrinkle and beauty’s intoxicating hair?

What gaze from those kohl-darkened eyes awake?

sabza o gul kahāñ se aa.e haiñ

abr kyā chiiz hai havā kyā hai

Where did verdure and flowers come from?

What are clouds? What is atmospheric ray?

ham ko un se vafā kī hai ummīd

jo nahīñ jānte vafā kyā hai

We hope for fidelity from them,

Who do not know, what fidelity may be or to my dismay?

haañ bhalā kar tirā bhalā hogā

aur darvesh kī sadā kyā hai

Yes, do well, well will come to you,

what else is the dervish say?

jaan tum par nisār kartā huuñ

maiñ nahīñ jāntā duā kyā hai

For you I do bequeath my life,

I never knew what it is to pray.

maiñ ne maanā ki kuchh nahīñ ‘ġhālib’

muft haath aa.e to burā kyā hai

I concede that Ghalib is nothing and worthless,

but if it comes free, then why delay?


Mirza Ghalib’s 220th birth anniversary: Google Doodle today pays tribute to legendary poet

Mirza Ghalib, considered to be one of the most popular and influential poets of the Urdu language, started writing poetry at the age of 11.

His verse is characterised by a lingering sadness borne of a tumultuous and often tragic life — from being orphaned at an early age, to losing all of his seven child.

He struggled financially, never holding a regular paying job but instead depending on patronage from royalty and more affluent friends.”

“But despite these hardships, Ghalib navigated his circumstances with wit, intellect, and an all-encompassing love for life.

His contributions to Urdu poetry and prose were not fully appreciated in his lifetime, but his legacy has come to be widely celebrated, most particularly for his mastery of the Urdu ghazal (amatory poem),” the post added.

In one of his letters, Ghalib describes his marriage as the second imprisonment after the initial confinement that was life itself. The idea that life is one continuous painful struggle which can end only when life itself ends.

Poetry- what kind of relation is this?

What kind of relation is this?

Do not know,

As much as I can,

Thrown away

It comes across again.

Which is this waterfall

Of sweet water,

Rest in my heart;

That continually flows,

Never stop.

Inside of me is he,

And upon me is you,

As the something light and,

Something dark.

Like the moon smiles,

On the earth over night,

As that the face of your’s

Blossom in mine…

~ Nidhi Suryavanshi

I like the girls, like me

I like the girls,

like me,

Who passes through in phases of time.

Who live as shadow, in the body of their own,

Who ask to go,

Beyond the cloud, and a road to unknown.

Who do unconsciously,

Mention of love in their talk,

But never do love with anyone and carve this very art.

Who dreamt, and touch all the things,

But never stay,

On a single way, as a bird with wings…

~Nidhi Suryavanshi

Poetry- Your journey

Your journey of this very life has molded you,

For the greater good,

It was exactly what it needed to put.

Something no, everything as enormous and beautiful.

Don’t think you have lost time,

This is where you’hv left your dark and bright sign.

It took each and every moment encountered,

To bring you as a art fine.

Life can be so Sublime,

If you know the way,

That goes on the skyline,

Make yourself aware with the stream,

Across the side and within the line.

Now seems to be,

We all are speck of a single divine.

As the sun; glows so bright,

Or reflect through all it’s shine.

In you, your’s,

In me and mine…

~Nidhi Suryavanshi

Poetry “Life is a Gift


is a gift,

Make your senses shift,

Know your truth,

See your heart,

Take a road less travel,

Make a splendid walk.


are here as a guest,

Live completely, love deeply,

And let your soul rest,

Celebrate all the day,

As a divine fest.


your stay,

Do what you truly want,

Go that way,

At last,

We all have to dissolved,

In a elemental clay.


your being,

Be grateful for all,

Permit the things to turned on,

Make your heart swing,

Here to there,

To everywhere, and between everything.

~ Nidhi suryavanshi