NihshabdBlog

Category: Poetry

  • The Things We Leave Behind

    The Things We Leave Behind

    What is the legacy you want to leave behind?

    Legacy

    I do not dream of marble names,
    or statues standing tall,
    I only hope my presence stays
    in little things… that’s all.

    .

    In laughter shared at dinner tables,
    in stories told again,
    in recipes with extra love
    and slightly guessed-by-hand.

    .

    I want to leave behind soft words
    that comfort tired hearts,
    the kind of kindness people keep
    long after we depart.

    .

    Maybe no history books will care,
    maybe no headlines sing,
    but if my people smile at memories,
    that feels like everything.

    .

    Let my legacy be warmth and light,
    traditions carried through,
    a home where love was always loud,
    and everyone felt true.

    .

    I hope my name is spoken softly
    in moments filled with grace,
    like winter sunlight on tired skin
    or peace in a crowded place.

    .

    May I remain in tiny habits,
    in little things people do,
    like adding extra chai to milk
    because “that’s how she used to.” ☕

    .

    I want to live inside the pauses
    between chaos and despair,
    in the feeling that no matter what,
    someone once truly cared.

    .

    Not perfect.
    Not famous.
    Not endlessly admired.

    .

    Just human enough to be remembered
    with affection instead of formality.

    .

    Because in the end,
    legacy is not built from monuments.
    It is built quietly

    .

    in how gently you held people,
    how safely they could fall apart around you,
    and how deeply your love continued living
    even after you were gone.

    .

    And if someday, long after me,
    my absence still feels a little warm
    instead of completely empty…

    .

    I think that would mean
    I loved well enough to stay. ✨

    .

    .

    A warm and nostalgic sunset scene by a window featuring books, dried flowers, candles, handwritten notes, and a cup of chai, with the title The Things We Leave Behind and the name Nihshabd softly displayed in the center.
    Some things end, but their warmth stays forever. ☕✨

    .

    With love,

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • My Mother — The Soft Strength Behind My Life ❤️

    My Mother — The Soft Strength Behind My Life ❤️

    मेरी माँ…
    वो मेरी ज़िंदगी की
    सबसे खूबसूरत सीख हैं। ❤️

    .

    मैंने उन्हें
    हर परिस्थिति में
    शांत रहना देखा है,
    टूटकर भी
    सबको संभालते देखा है,
    और बिना कुछ कहे
    अपनों के लिए
    सब कुछ करते देखा है। 🌸

    .

    उन्होंने मुझे
    सिर्फ जीना नहीं सिखाया…
    उन्होंने मुझे
    आत्मसम्मान सिखाया,
    हिम्मत सिखाई,
    और ये सिखाया कि
    एक औरत की असली ताक़त
    उसके दिल की नरमी में होती है। ❤️

    .

    आज अगर मैं
    मुश्किल दिनों में भी
    खुद को संभाल लेती हूँ,
    अगर दुनिया बदल जाने पर भी
    दिल में प्यार बचा हुआ है…
    तो उसकी वजह
    मेरी माँ हैं। 🙂

    .

    क्योंकि मजबूत औरतें
    शोर नहीं करतीं…
    वो बस
    अपनी बेटियों को
    इतना प्यार दे जाती हैं
    कि वो जिंदगी से डरना छोड़ देती हैं। 🌷

    .

    सभी माँओं के लिए… ❤️

    .

    कुछ माँएँ
    अपने प्यार को कभी शब्दों में नहीं कहतीं…
    बस पूरी जिंदगी
    चुपचाप अपने बच्चों पर लुटा देती हैं। 🌸

    .

    उनकी दुआओं में सुकून होता है,
    उनकी गोद में दुनिया की सबसे सुरक्षित जगह,
    और उनके होने से ही
    घर… घर लगता है। 🙂

    .

    दुनिया की हर माँ को
    दिल से प्यार, सम्मान और धन्यवाद।
    Happy Mother’s Day ❤️🌷

    .

    My mother…
    is the most beautiful lesson of my life. ❤️

    .

    I have seen her
    remain calm through every situation,
    hold everyone together
    even while breaking silently inside,
    and do everything for the people she loves
    without ever saying a word. 🌸

    .

    She did not just teach me how to live…
    she taught me self-respect,
    courage,
    and that the true strength of a woman
    lies in the softness of her heart. ❤️

    .

    So if today
    I can still hold myself together during difficult days,
    if love still survives inside me
    despite the world changing around me…
    it is because of my mother. 🙂

    .

    Because strong women
    do not always make noise…
    sometimes,
    they simply love their daughters so deeply
    that they stop fearing life itself. 🌷

    .

    For all the mothers out there… ❤️

    .

    Some mothers
    never express their love through words…
    they simply spend their entire lives
    quietly pouring it into their children. 🌸

    .

    There is comfort in their prayers,
    the safest place in the world in their embrace,
    and it is because of them
    that a house truly feels like home. 🙂

    .

    To every mother in the world
    love, respect, and heartfelt gratitude.
    Happy Mother’s Day ❤️🌷

    .

    A warm and emotional Mother’s Day illustration of a mother lovingly holding her child during sunset, with soft floral details and heartfelt typography.
    The softest strength in every life… a mother ❤️🌸

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • आख़िर ठिकाना दिल का सादगी ही होता है… ✨

    आख़िर ठिकाना दिल का सादगी ही होता है… ✨

    लोगों को लगता है
    कि दुनिया बनावट पर चलती है…
    पर सच ये है कि
    दिल आज भी सादगी पर ही हारते हैं।

    ज़्यादा चमक अक्सर आँखें भर देती है,
    पर सादगी…
    वो चुपचाप रूह तक उतर जाती है।
    उसमें कोई शोर नहीं होता,
    फिर भी एक अजीब सा जादू होता है…
    जो धीरे-धीरे किसी के दिल में
    अपनी जगह बना लेता है।

    हमने कभी ख़ुद को
    किसी और जैसा बनाने की कोशिश नहीं की,
    बस जैसे थे, वैसे ही रहे।
    न लफ़्ज़ों को सजाया,
    न एहसासों पर मुखौटे लगाए…
    जो दिल में था,
    उसे सच्चाई से जी लिया।

    हाँ, कई बार इस वजह से
    हम दूसरों से अलग लगे,
    कई बार अकेले भी पड़े…
    क्योंकि हर कोई
    सादगी को समझ नहीं पाता।
    कुछ लोगों को चमक पसंद आती है,
    और कुछ लोगों को
    वो सुकून…
    जो सिर्फ़ एक सच्चे दिल के पास होता है।

    पर अजीब बात ये है कि
    थके हुए लोग आखिर में
    सहारा भी उसी के पास ढूँढते हैं,
    जो दिखावे से नहीं,
    दिल से भरा हो।

    सादगी कमज़ोरी नहीं होती…
    वो प्यार की सबसे खूबसूरत भाषा है।
    उसमें अपनापन होता है,
    सुकून होता है,
    और वो खुशी भी…
    जो किसी को प्रभावित करने से नहीं,
    बस दिल से जीने से मिलती है। ✨

    People think
    that the world runs on appearances…
    but the truth is,
    hearts still fall for simplicity.

    Too much shine may impress the eyes,
    but simplicity…
    it quietly reaches the soul.
    It makes no noise,
    yet carries a strange kind of magic…
    the kind that slowly
    finds a home inside someone’s heart.

    I never tried
    to become someone else,
    I simply remained who I was.
    I never decorated my words,
    nor hid my emotions behind masks…
    whatever lived in my heart,
    I chose to live it truthfully.

    Yes, because of that,
    many times I seemed different from others,
    many times I stood alone too…
    because not everyone
    understands simplicity.
    Some people are attracted to glitter,
    while some seek
    the peace
    that only a genuine heart can offer.

    And strangely enough,
    when people grow tired,
    they eventually look for comfort
    in the ones who are real,
    not the ones who only appear beautiful.

    Simplicity is not weakness…
    it is the most beautiful language of love.
    It holds warmth,
    it holds peace,
    and it carries that rare happiness
    which comes not from impressing others,
    but simply from living wholeheartedly. ✨

    सूर्यास्त की नरम सुनहरी रोशनी में सजी एक सौम्य और भावुक Instagram-style हिंदी कविता पोस्ट, जिसमें “निःशब्द” शीर्षक के साथ सादगी, सुकून और दिल की सच्चाई पर आधारित खूबसूरत पंक्तियाँ लिखी हैं।
    आख़िर ठिकाना दिल का सादगी ही होती है… ✨🤍

    .

    —Rajeshwari (राजेश्वरी ) 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • A Mark Today, A Better Tomorrow

    A Mark Today, A Better Tomorrow

    Do you vote in political elections?

    I don’t vote blindly
    I choose.

    Not for noise,
    not for faces on posters,
    but for the quiet hope
    that my one voice
    still matters.

    They say it’s just a mark of ink
    but I’ve felt its weight.
    It carries dreams,
    questions,
    and the courage
    to stand for what feels right.

    Yes, I vote.
    Because it is my right
    and also my responsibility.

    Because silence changes nothing,
    but a single choice
    can begin a shift.

    In that moment,
    behind a simple curtain,
    I am not small
    I am a citizen
    with power in my hand. ✨

    .

    Ink-marked fingers raised in a voting gesture with soft sunset tones and “Nihshabd” title.
    A quiet mark, a powerful voice. ✨

    .

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • I Don’t Read… I Disappear Into Stories✨🌙

    I Don’t Read… I Disappear Into Stories✨🌙

    What book could you read over and over again?

    .

    I don’t reread books…

    not because I don’t love them

    but because once a story gives away all its secrets,

    it stops playing with me.

    .

    And I like it when stories play back.

    .

    Because somewhere between the lines,

    there’s always something hiding

    something that doesn’t reveal itself easily…

    something that makes me lean in a little closer.

    .

    And I…

    I crave that first spark.

    .

    The moment I open a new book,

    something inside me shifts

    like a window suddenly opening,

    and in rush

    a thousand restless, mischievous thoughts.

    .

    Dragonflies skim across my mind,

    light and fleeting…

    Fireflies glow softly in hidden corners,

    like tiny secrets waiting to be found…

    and clouds

    they don’t stay still either.

    .

    They change, they drift, they play,

    painting my thoughts

    in colors I didn’t know I carried within me.

    .

    I don’t read…

    I run after them.

    .

    I try to hold onto a moment,

    but it slips away laughing

    playful, untamed

    and somehow, I end up smiling too.

    .

    And then…

    everything softens.

    .

    Like time slows down,

    like I’ve stepped into a place

    where imagination runs free

    careless, curious, alive.

    .

    Books, for me, are never just stories.

    They are worlds

    and I don’t visit them,

    I dissolve into them.

    .

    My thoughts don’t stay still there…

    they wander, they chase, they tumble,

    they turn into colors, into laughter, into quiet wonder

    like a piece of childhood

    that never really left,

    just hid between the pages.

    .

    Maybe that’s why I don’t read the same book twice

    because I’m not looking to remember a story…

    .

    I’m looking to lose myself

    in a new one,

    again and again. 🌙

    .

    A dreamy illustration of a woman reading a glowing book under a starry sky, surrounded by fireflies and dragonflies, with magical light flowing from the pages, titled “I Don’t Read… I Disappear Into Stories” with “Nihshabd” written below.
    Stories don’t stay on pages… they linger inside me. 🌙

    .

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • When She Exists, Even Evenings Smile

    When She Exists, Even Evenings Smile

    Uske hone se shaam khilkhilati hai,

    jaise thandi hawa dil ko chhoo jaati hai…

    .

    Wo aaye toh raatein bhi roshan ho jaati hain,

    aur sitare zameen par utar aate hain…

    .

    Kabhi wo khamoshi mein bhi kahaani likh jaati hai,

    kabhi hansi se har gham ko bhula jaati hai…

    .

    Na naam mein simti, na lafzon mein bandhi,

    wo ek roshni hai… jo har dil mein jagmagati hai… 🌸

    .

    .

    Her presence makes the evening bloom with laughter,

    like a gentle breeze that softly touches the heart…

    .

    When she arrives, even the nights begin to glow,

    as if the stars have descended to the earth…

    .

    Sometimes she writes stories in silence,

    sometimes her smile makes every sorrow fade away…

    .

    Not bound by a name, nor confined in words,

    she is a light… that shines in every heart… 🌸

    .

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

  • Stillness Beyond the Mist

    Stillness Beyond the Mist

    .

    बादलों की नरम चादर पर

    टिकी है नज़र कहीं दूर…

    जहाँ धुंध के पार,

    शांत, स्थिर, अडिग—

    हिमालय खड़ा है भरपूर।

    .

    ये बादल आते-जाते हैं,

    रूप बदलते, बिखर जाते हैं…

    पर वो पर्वत—

    ना डोलता, ना थकता,

    बस अपनी जगह ठहर जाता है।

    .

    जैसे जीवन के ये छोटे शोर,

    उलझनें, भावनाओं के घने घेर…

    और भीतर कहीं

    एक हिमालय भी है—

    अडिग, शांत, गंभीर।

    .

    ऊपर से सब धुंधला-सा लगता है,

    पर सत्य कहीं खोता नहीं…

    जो स्थिर है अपने अस्तित्व में,

    वो कभी ओझल होता नहीं।

    .

    बादलों के पार से झांकता,

    एक मौन सा विश्वास—

    कि चाहे जितनी धुंध हो,

    अडिग रहना ही है ख़ास।

    .

    On a soft blanket of clouds,

    my gaze drifts far away…

    Beyond the mist,

    calm, steady, unwavering

    the Himalayas quietly stay.

    .

    These clouds come and go,

    shifting forms, fading apart…

    But the mountains

    they neither tremble nor tire,

    they simply stand from the start.

    .

    Like the noise of everyday life,

    the tangles, the emotional haze…

    And somewhere within us too,

    there lives a Himalaya

    silent, strong in its ways.

    .

    From above, it all seems blurred,

    yet truth is never truly gone…

    What stands firm in its being

    can never be withdrawn.

    .

    Peeking through the drifting clouds,

    a quiet kind of grace

    no matter how thick the fog,

    steadiness finds its place.

    .

    View from an airplane above soft white clouds with the distant Himalayas visible through mist, featuring the title “Stillness Beyond the Mist” and the word “Nihshabd” on a calm blue sky background.
    Somewhere between takeoff and landing… the Himalayas found me ☁️✨

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • Between Logic and Lucky Charms

    Are you superstitious?

    Between Logic and Luck

    .

    “Are you superstitious?”

    Someone asked me once

    with that half-smile

    people wear

    when they already know

    they will judge the answer.

    .

    I thought for a moment.

    .

    Well…

    I don’t exactly believe in everything.

    .

    But also…

    I don’t exactly risk everything.

    .

    If a black cat crosses the road,

    I don’t panic —

    I just pause…

    you know…

    to let the cat finish its important meeting.

    .

    If someone sneezes

    just as I’m leaving the house,

    I don’t cancel my plans.

    I simply sit down again

    for thirty seconds

    like a very disciplined scientist

    waiting for the universe

    to reset itself.

    .

    And if someone says,

    “Don’t cut your nails at night,”

    I don’t argue with centuries of aunties.

    I quietly respect

    their mysterious research.

    .

    Do I know if any of it is true?

    .

    No.

    But here is the strange thing.

    .

    Some beliefs

    are not about logic.

    They are about memory.

    .

    They carry the voices

    of grandmothers,

    mothers,

    and the quiet instructions

    of childhood evenings.

    .

    Tiny rituals

    that followed us

    into adulthood

    without asking permission.

    .

    Maybe none of it changes fate.

    .

    Maybe the universe

    doesn’t care

    whether we step out

    with the right foot first.

    .

    But still…

    sometimes I do.

    .

    Because some habits

    are not about fear.

    .

    They are about comfort..

    .

    And honestly,

    if avoiding a ladder

    or knocking on wood

    gives my heart

    two extra seconds of peace—

    .

    why would I argue

    with peace?

    .

    So yes…

    maybe I am

    a little superstitious.

    .

    Not because I believe

    everything will go wrong

    if I don’t follow them.

    .

    But because life is uncertain enough

    already.

    .

    And if a tiny ritual

    makes me feel

    a little safer

    inside this chaotic universe….

    .

    I think

    I’ll keep it.

    .

    —Rajeshwari🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • What Peace Taught Me 

    What is the last thing you learned?

    .

    Woman sitting by a calm lake at sunrise, reflecting in silence and peace.
    A quiet moment where peace finally speaks.

    .

    The last thing I learned

    did not arrive in a classroom,

    or a self-help book

    with a smiling author

    telling me to “manifest better energy.”

    .

    It arrived

    after I spent years

    trying to fix things

    that were not broken

    .

    just

    not meant for me.

    .

    For a long time

    I believed patience could solve anything.

    .

    Give it time.

    Give it love.

    Give it another conversation.

    .

    Give it one more chance.

    .

    Apparently,

    I was running an emotional charity

    no one applied for

    but everyone benefited from.

    .

    I believed if I tried harder

    people would understand me.

    .

    If I explained better

    things would change.

    .

    If I stayed longer

    something would finally click.

    .

    What finally clicked

    was something else entirely.

    .

    Peace.

    .

    Quiet, stubborn,

    unapologetic peace.

    .

    It showed up one day

    looked at the chaos around me

    and said,

    .

    “I’m not living here.”

    .

    That was the day

    I learned a new skill:

    .

    Letting go.

    .

    Not the dramatic

    movie-style goodbye.

    .

    Just a quiet

    mental unfollow.

    .

    Some people

    are chapters.

    .

    Some situations

    are footnotes.

    .

    And some things

    are simply drafts

    life decided not to publish.

    .

    So now

    I let go of what resists me.

    .

    I stop arguing with closed doors.

    I stop watering plastic plants.

    I stop auditioning for roles

    in stories that never had my name in them.

    .

    And honestly?

    .

    The silence afterwards

    is beautiful.

    .

    Because the last thing I learned

    is something surprisingly simple:

    .

    Peace is not something

    you find.

    .

    It is something

    you protect.

    .

    And once you taste it,

    you stop fighting

    for anything

    that disturbs it.

    .

    A small reminder to every woman reading this —

    we spend our lives keeping everyone happy,

    and somehow end up standing alone with our own storms.

    So give your peace a little importance too.

    At least a small share of calm in this life should belong to you.

    Protect your peace… the rest is manageable.

    .

    —Rajeshwari🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • The Quiet Bloom of Me

    Illustrated with love — by Rajeshwari.

    .

    I tie my anklet

    the way dawn ties light to the sky—

    softly,

    without asking permission.

    .

    The jasmine in my hair

    isn’t decoration;

    it’s a reminder

    that I bloom on ordinary days

    just because I can.

    .

    My lehenga rustles,

    gentle as a whispered secret—

    as if it knows

    I’m not dressing for anyone,

    just returning to myself

    a little more beautifully.

    .

    If love finds me,

    let it come quietly.

    I’m already a poem

    learning its own rhythm.

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    (Poem & Illustration © Rajeshwari.

    Unauthorized copying, reposting, or use of this content is not allowed.)