All posts tagged Feelings


Published January 27, 2017 by Shreya Rajvanshi

​The blank white page

Brushed against my fingers 

That held the brush, 

Dipped in a colourful ink, and 

All my inspirations came down 



In front of me, in the form of 

The arch of your back, 

The curves of your valley 

Kissed by the setting sun, 

Dimming the contours of your shape, 

Teaching me a whole new language. 

My mind drew the image of 

Your black locks, 

Resting on your face, 

Lighting up from the rays

Pouring through the curtains, and 

You were marvellous, 

We were beautiful. 

The twenty year old ebony table 

Carved with your memories, 


Battered, came into view, 

The wood peeling off, 

Yet so prosperous, 


On the brink of solitude. 

My soul sang songs in this new, unexplored, 

Yet familiar language, and 

My mouth sighed its consonants, and 

My mind narrated the beautiful tale, 

But my hand still didn’t move an inch. 



Published June 10, 2016 by Shreya Rajvanshi

You would call me a fool for
Making fun of his messy hair,
His huge hands, his raspy voice,
The way he rolls his eyes and
How his shoe size can fit an
Entire town, and his broad back,
But the truth is
I like it – all of it, because
I can ruffle his messy hair
Any time, shamelessly.
His hands are just the right size
For me to envelope mine
Through them;
Or he could do the same.
His raspy voice is a weakness for
It compliments my squeaky one,
Oh, and how a little giggle escapes
His mouth each time he playfully
Rolls his eyes at me.
I like that I can hide my feet in
His shoes to keep them warm and
Then put them away
Just to spend a little more time
With him, and
I don’t mind his broad back
Because I could always climb
On it, or hide behind it;
My own safe place.
I like him for the way these
Fragments move together to
Make him who he is, and
How I like him for this,
Hoping the feeling is mutual.


Published June 6, 2015 by Shreya Rajvanshi

I’ve been asked if I’ve ever been
In love and every time I shake my
Head because I know I haven’t,
I’ve never been in love with any
Boy I might have remotely liked,
Or with a girl I might have gotten
Along with, but I know that my
Heart skips a beat and my cheeks
Flush whenever I read a book,
Because the feelings and emotions
Are so raw, so strong and intense,
Too real to be true, that I find
Myself gasping for breath, and
Desperately wishing I was living
Those stories, I was singing those
Pages filled with realities and truths that were not cushioned or
The promises made were not
Hollow, the emotions attached were
Not shallow, because all of it
Makes me fall in love with mere fictional characters I know won’t ever come to life, and with each time I read
A new book, I fall in love all over
Again, and there’s nothing I can
Do to stop this feeling.

My book.

Published September 15, 2014 by Shreya Rajvanshi

My favourite book touches me in all the right places,
Held together by a million coloured pages.
The cover is like a hard shell, which saves me from insanity,
A title which looks like an unsaid prophecy.
The prologue is like an impending storm,
Calm on the surface, edges sharp as a thorn.
Each page speaks of a different emotion, a varying mood,
Sometimes as warm as red, as dark as black, as calm as blue.
Draped in ink, written in various, numerous fonts,
Each line is a story about a charming prince and a tortured demon.
Each page brings out something else, so unexpected, unpredictable,
The epilogue gazes upon me from the eyes of all its syllables.
I can read my favourite book all day long, through and through,
My favourite book is only and only, you.


Published July 27, 2014 by Shreya Rajvanshi

Not a word he said
Not a move he made
Not a sound escaped his mouth
She was filled with doubt.

Slowly, but gradually she came to see
The light in his eyes
The color of his cheeks
Whenever he heard her name.

She noticed
The shaking of his hands
She felt, his heart race
And she was always left stunned.

She heard
The roar in his throat
Which only showed
How much he wanted her.

And she realized
That she didn’t need to hear
Some words, she didn’t need
To necessarily feel his touch
To know that they were meant
With each other
For now and always.