सच है या सपना ?
3:41 PM | Author: Sherry Italia
माँ मधुर कंठ में गुनगुनाती,
प्यार से नन्हे को गोद में सुलाती,
कानों में गूंजती बचपन की लोरी,
चन्दा का पालना, रेशम की डोरी |

वोह पेहेंती थी तारों का माला,
पिलाती थी वोह ओस का प्याला,
परियां सजाती उसकी डोली,
कलियों सी कोमल उसकी बोली |

अंधेर की आँचल में लिपटी सदा,
छुईमुई सी शर्मीली उसकी अदा,
ख़्वाबों में बसाती थी शीशे से अरमान,
अचानक आया असलियत का फरमान  |

छन् से टूटा वोह सुन्दर सपना,
सितारों में नहीं मिला उसे अपना | 
क्या वोह सच्चाई से थी अनजान,
या चुराई थी उसने  एक नयी पहचान ?

अब नहीं रही बचपन की लोरी,
नहीं वोह पालना, नहीं वोह डोरी,
सांसें अब करती हैं भोर की आशा,
नहीं परवडती अब ख़्वाबों की भाषा |
5:45 PM | Author: Sherry Italia
Why do we say things and then never end up fulfilling them?
Why do we say words of wisdom and never live upto them?
Why do we nurture feelings and then regret doing so?
Why do we think of thoughts that are restricted to fantasies?
Why does reality always seem poles apart from the actual dream?
Why do we fear bringing out our true selves?
Why do we complicate the simplest of situations by pondering over them?
Why do we run after those we love and not after those who love us?
Why do we arouse the fire of hope and then kindle the embers when they are stone-cold?
Why do people's opinions matter and not our own?
Why do words heal temporarily and time permanently?
Why does laughter seem alien even in the happiest of auras?
Why do tears flow when we don't want them to?
Why do things happen when we least expect them to?
Why, in spite of knowing the answers, is my mind plagued with zillion questions?
12:50 PM | Author: Sherry Italia
Difference in opinions, yet united in thoughts
Cryptic to the world, molded in a bond intangible

Closets with skeletons, yet open as mirrors
Naive little beings, yet shrewd to others

Blossoming buds, yet fully bloomed in ecstasy
Speaking forever in silences, hidden languages

Glowing in the ether of love, yet lost in the dark
Platonic healers, yet lasting emotional pillars

Believers in freedom, yet a sense of commitment
Dreamers of the present, vagabonds of the future

Free aliens, yet bounded by social conformities
Grounded to the Earth, yet flying away together

Not one in blood, yet in affinal union
Inherently incoherent, yet deeply bound spirits

No wonder we call them 'Soulmates'

(my attempt at writing a sonnet)