Yet the solace it finds!

You never know what Brews
in a teenage mind
The one which is agitated
And trying to unwind

To express and then
Not to find words
And the raised lumps
Chocking vocal chords

The rainbows of hope
Peeping through misty eyes
And to steal a glance
To your face it often pries

And shudders my heart
To think of days without
To pitch , the highest
In loneliness it’d shout

Yet the solace it finds
Amidst your brimming smile
And this will let me cope up
With you away to miles

Though eyes would have to wait
The heart , you d be always near
Love you a lot id say ,
Ignore my happy tears

And shudders my heart
To think of days without
To pitch , the highest
In loneliness it’d shout

Though eyes would have to wait
The heart , you d be always near
Love you a lot id say ,
Ignore my happy tears

Journey of uncertain super dramatic dreams into much matured and peaceful heart,which almost every individual faces once in a lifetime in some context for sure…..very well written and contrast beautifully !

Keep scribbling Prankies

Happy reading readers

Yours loving



The Authors I Love

Books have always been my sacred sanctuary where I often found refuge from the drudgeries of the sapping lifestyle. Though I started reading young, I was never a ‘Fan” Sort of person who’d drool over some author and would devour all of their novels, rather I was more of a “Whatever I get hands upon, I read it” reader.
Still the early years marked an everlasting impression on the type of genre I’d be liking in my future years.
So, recently reading the list of authors by a Twitter friend made me think of enumerating my own writers who made me see the world through their eyes.

  1. Robert Louis Stevenson: Nothing beats a terrific Treasure Hunt to pull a young lad of 10 years into the fantasy world of reading and Treasure Island had all the right gradients. Well, a lot about the book but what enchanted me was the way RL developed the plot and a teen was in the middle of the adventure. The lure of the name was enough for me to pick up his other book “Kidnapped”. He didn’t disappoint the adventure-hungry me. Another one of his novel which earned a cult status is
    “The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde”, which is among one of my favourite and a separate article will be soon published over it.

So I recommend the author for the young readers who want a perfect launch pad into reading.

2. Enid Blyton: Once again another Children’s writer who wrote so much that she became synonymous with the Genre until Rowling usurped her from the throne. Adventure, camaraderie, and ingenious ways of solving puzzles in an English setup always gave me the feeling that I have settled myself on the English moor in an English summer.

  1. PG Wodehouse: What will you do if you found yourselves in the shoes of Bertie Wooster with the Mighty Jeeves ( forgive the Pun) with your steward. The early version of Siri or Alexa, Jeeves would make you fall for all his demeanour and problem-solving tactics and leave you with sympathy for the Wooster.

Well, if you are a fan of English humour which might not make you laugh like Gabbar but will enable you to have a slight curve of your lips which will linger on till the very end of the novel or maybe longer. The humour in his writings lies in the situation which unfolds rather than the dialogues. His omnibus of Jeeves and Wooster and Life at blendings are awesome and also his Public school series of novels.

4. J.K. Rowling: Well, what to write about her when the whole world has been enchanted with her works. When I got hands on her books, I was already in college and had read a lot of classics and English authors to the point, Potter mania hadn’t gripped me. Still, I didn’t want to be left out and hence I started reading her and within 2 days first three were completed.

The way Rowling evolved her story connecting all the dots from Philosopher’s Stone to the deathly hallows was a remarkable feat for the series which was spread over a decade. Though I have not read the spin-offs till now, I have read original books, seven times each, which can give you the picture of how much I Like the genre.

5. Jeffery Archer: To say as the Veeru says in Sholay, ” Inke novels main story hai Drama hai, emotions hai, romance hai aur twist hai. And twists are like you have to read the last line to know your answer.

He knows how to keep readers engage and one thing that makes him my favourite is developing a story with parallel lineups and then merging all of them

His best book for me has been Ken and Abel, but others like First among Equals, a twist in the tale, red herring and many others are a delight to read

6. Frederick Forsyth: Well, we all got gaga when Mr Tharoor used “exasperated farrago” in his tweet, this gentleman used it in his novel years back. A master writer of the espionage genre, Forsyth wrote with such a dexterity that would place you in front of a projector and him managing the reel. His ability to create multiple plots simultaneously might let you feel you are reading 3-4 books at a time. Being himself an armed force veteran the researches and tactical strategies described in his novel feel almost real. The day of the Jackal, his propellant to the fame has been said to have a perfect plan of the murder of the French President.

7. Robert Ludlum: Though the Bourne Series has won worldwide accolade due to its cinematic adaptation, the novel has much greater elements and is ten times better than the movie. The espionage genre in hands of Ludlum makes an unassuming, simple man to take up the task. Research filled novels though the much straighter plot, it was a delight for people who didn’t want to strain themselves Remembering so many things. His legacy, however, was ruined by the Ghostwriters who wrote along with his name and produced tasteless junk.

  1. Munshi Premchand: A Hindi writer at last in the list, but let me be clear that the list is unordered and I am writing about whoever comes in my mind. Born as Dhanpat Rai, Munshiji was a writer of masses, such prolific he was in his writings that in a very short life of 56 Years, he published more than 300 short stories, 14 novels, many essays and all these when he managed a loss-making printing press and faced numerous British Sanctions. Munshiji’s stories are mostly set in the rustic environment of the then India and speak at length about the social evils prevailing at the time. Unlike others he brings you closer to the reality of the land, India was. His unabashed portrayal of love, greed and nationalistic and religious fervour astounds the reader and give them an instant connect with the colourful past we all have.

Godan, rangabhoomi, karmabhoomi, nirmala are few of his novels, and his short stories collection is published under the name Mansarovar and has about 10 volumes.

I should call it a day as this list is going to be longer than I thought. It would be better for me if I divide it into parts.

I hope this list will encourage the new readers to read and indulge in the hobby which is fast receding into oblivion due to the onslaught of newer means of mental gratification.

वो दस रुपय का नोट भी फड़फड़ाता है

ख़र्च होने नख़रे दिखाता है

ठेले पर देख गुपचुप ललचाता है

देख कोई ऑटो वो चिल्लाता है

मिलों चल संग मेरे फिर सकुचाता है

फटी जेब में अपना वजूद छिपाता है

छन्द पंक्तियों में बिखरा में

वो नोट आज भी फड़फड़ाता है

Women’s Day

A Repost

One who squeezes in a day
A whole week’s stuff
One who in a lifetime
Gives you seven births love
One who fights with world
To get you your rightful place
One Who with her love
bring smiles on your saddened face
One who sacrifice her needs and
Relinquish things once important to her
That is what when she is,
The woman as a mother

One who cares about you
Still fight and scold you a lot
Helps you in all your endeavor
Whether she likes it or not
Elder if she is I’d say
She’d surely judge you much
But It’s only to make you reach
The zenith, if it you can touch
If younger she’ll eat it all
The Petty size brain what you have got
Still you’d end in loving her more
And when away, you’ll miss her a lot
One who is a friend and mother
This is woman as a sister

One who leaves it all
Even her identity her name
One who bears all irritations
Still love you all the same
One who when ill
Her pains she wouldn’t share
But even if you are not that Ill
Feverishly though she’ll care
One who is dear
And a friend for life
My dear! She is
Woman in role of wife

One who to your troubles
Give a patient ear
One with whom you can engage
Discussions as an equal peer
Out of your misery the path
She’d surely tell
Together the mysteries of life
With whom you revel
With whom your talks
Don’t seem to have an end
She is what you can term
Woman, the affectionate friend

One who leaps up in your lap
With mother scolding besides
One who uses your shoulders
For her fun rides
Whose lovely cheerful and
Adorable wide smile
Makes you put much more effort
And to go to extra mile
One when grown up
With her strength she’d make you proud
Her happiness is all you’d care all about
She cares for you like no other
She is Woman in making
The cute the precious daughter

But as a relation them
I might have defined
To that much only
Their role can’t be confined

They make almost fifty percent
of the mortal world
And in every field of life
They have proved their mettle

As an employee and as a boss
Many ceilings of Glass they have crossed
But still a lot more is to be done
Empowerment is right of woman

And let’s on this day give it a thought
That crime on her, on society, is a serious blot
Weaker gender we might have termed them
But stronger always they had been
And let’s move to a new world
Where woman Empowerment is a dead word

Million words and one day in the year
Are though never enough
To commemorate their contributions
Their toughness and their love

Happy Women’s Day

The Sultry Dream

Gazing down at the sea
Thought I, so calm how he could be?
Blue, clear and so deep
Still inside no one can peep
Despite mush upheavals inside
Through all length and from all side
Within he has volcanoes and geyser
Yet he seems cool like freezer
Receives with heart so warm
On beaches everyone would swarm
Sometimes fake and sometimes actual
He loves all and treats them equal
Many secrets are deeply confined
And thus extremely difficult to find
How much troubled you may be
Stay calm, would say he
Mature he is, but heart is child
Yes! He surely can turn wild
He has some jovial waves
Playing with them your heart will crave
Beware the fury of patient man they say
So never rub him in wrong way
‘Coz there is no reprieve to loss
To the grief, the horror he would cause
Is it why he is so alone?
Everyone there but no one to own
Why is that despite all commotion
There is seldom a hint of emotion
He gives human every thing
All but water for drinking
Why to the shore do these great waves walk
Only to be broken by rocks?
Cool saline water ended dream so sad
Drenched was face, I was in my bed

Why to the shore do these great waves walk

Only to be broken by rocks?

May be,someone divine designed these “Great” waves to walk the shore….

To connect for a while those scattered rocks across the shore..

May be twin purpose …the nature plans

To break the “great” and connect the smalls💓🧚‍♀️

Sultry or pleasant is all just perception

The dreams, The sea and The Waves so fine you described!

Therfore, a lovely time I took to write a reply

Keep scribbling prankies

Happy reading readers

Yours loving warrior


जाने क्या मन ढूंढ रहा

खुलती हुई कलियों में ,
उन भूली बिसरी गलियों में
ओस की उन बूंदों में
उचटती अकेली नींदों में

जाने क्या मन ढूंढ रहा

उड़ते हुए परिंदो में
पर्वत के रिन्दों में
सागर की उठती लहरों में
उजड़े हुए शहरों में

जाने क्या मन ढूंढ रहा

नदियों की होती कलकल में
सन्नाटे के हर पल में
जीवन की भागम भाग में
मधुर संगीत के राग में

जाने क्या मन ढूंढ रहा

बिखरी हुई किताबों में
अनकहे अल्फाज़ो में
कुछ अधूरे किस्सो में
टूटे दिल के हिस्सों में

जाने क्या मन ढूंढ रहा

I remember the days;
The days – white and black
And got mingled; they both
Turning to a grey deck

Likewise I encountered
People in various hues
Like chameleon they were
Changed colours after use

So sitting alone now
I too wonder
Why obsessed with colours
Why to them we pander

And am I different
Or am I the same
I too might be viewed in
Blackish or whitish frame

The black , white and grey
Are just notions of mind
And to these notions our
Judgements are entwined

We all are just a sundry
Shades of grey
And to idea of black and white
We often fell prey