NihshabdBlog

Category: Poetry

  • ✨ The Hidden Kind of Boredom No One Admits To✨

    ✨ The Hidden Kind of Boredom No One Admits To✨

    What bores you?

    ✨ What Bores Me — More Than Anything

    (A Nihshabd Blog)

    .

    What bores me?

    Honestly… not the usual stuff.

    Not long queues.

    Not slow days.

    Not silent afternoons.

    Not even people who talk too much.

    .

    I get bored of something else —

    something quieter.

    .

    I get bored of pretending.

    Of acting fine when I am not.

    Of smiling because it’s expected.

    Of listening to conversations that have

    a lot of noise

    but no soul.

    .

    I get bored of people

    who speak without saying anything

    and never listen when you finally do.

    .

    I get bored of shallow connections —

    the “How are you?”

    without the “Tell me what’s really going on.”

    .

    I get bored of the energy

    that asks me to shrink

    to make someone else comfortable.

    .

    I get bored of those moments

    where I have to hide

    the loudest parts of me

    just to fit in.

    .

    What bores me the most?

    Living a life that doesn’t feel like mine.

    Talking just to fill the silence.

    Saying “yes” when my heart whispers “no.”

    Showing up for people

    who never show up for me.

    .

    Give me real conversations.

    Give me messy emotions.

    Give me the truth, even if it’s uncomfortable.

    Give me people who feel deeply,

    who pause,

    who ask,

    who care.

    .

    I don’t get bored of life.

    I get bored of half-lived life.

    .

    Because I don’t want days

    that look perfect from the outside

    but feel empty from the inside.

    .

    I want a life that’s honest.

    Raw.

    Soft.

    Loud.

    Quiet.

    Whatever it needs to be —

    as long as it’s real.

    .

    And anything less than that…

    bores me.

    .

    —Rajeshwari🧿💕

    Poem & Illustration © Rajeshwari — All Rights Reserved.

    Do not repost or reproduce without permission.

  • The Ones Who Know I’m Not Always Easy 

    The Ones Who Know I’m Not Always Easy 

    Who are your favorite people to be around?

    Who Are My Favourite People To Be Around?

    .

    The Ones Who Don’t Need Me To Be Pleasant To Be Loved

    My favourite people

    are not impressed

    by my efficiency.

    They are not waiting

    for me to be calmer,

    nicer,

    more adjusted,

    less complicated,

    more available,

    less emotional.

    They do not love

    the version of me

    that manages everything.

    They love

    the one

    who occasionally forgets

    why she walked into a room

    and stands there

    like a buffering video

    in her own life.

    .

    **The Ones Who Know

    Silence Is Also A Language**

    We don’t always talk.

    Sometimes

    we just sit together

    doing different things

    on different sides

    of the same exhaustion.

    No fixing.

    No analysing.

    No

    “you should try yoga.”

    Just presence.

    A kind

    that does not feel

    like performance.

    ..

    The Ones Who Let Me Change

    My favourite people

    do not archive me

    into versions:

    “You were not like this before.”

    “You used to be fun.”

    “You’ve changed.”

    Yes.

    I have.

    Grief changed me.

    Motherhood changed me.

    Healing changed me.

    Pain changed me.

    Learning how not to apologise

    for existing

    changed me.

    They do not expect

    consistency.

    They allow evolution.

    .

    **The Ones Who Understand

    That Care Is Sometimes Untidy**

    Care

    is not always

    remembering birthdays

    and planning surprises.

    Sometimes

    it is:

    • forwarding a job link

    • asking if I ate

    • not taking my bad day personally

    • closing the kitchen cabinet I left open for the 9th time

    Care

    is maintenance.

    Daily.

    Uncelebrated.

    Unposted.

    .

    **How To Be Someone’s Favourite Person

    (From A Woman Who Is Tired Of Explaining)**

    • Listen

    without preparing your defence.

    • Don’t offer solutions when someone is offering vulnerability.

    • Don’t compete with someone’s pain by narrating your own.

    • Ask “Do you want comfort or clarity?”

    • And most importantly:

    Do not punish honesty by withdrawing warmth.

    .

    What Stays

    My favourite people

    are not the ones

    who make life easier.

    They are the ones

    who don’t leave

    when it isn’t.

    And somewhere

    between staying

    and understanding

    love

    quietly matures.

  • My Favourite Shoes, and Where They’ve Taken Me

    My Favourite Shoes, and Where They’ve Taken Me

    Tell us about your favorite pair of shoes, and where they’ve taken you.

    My favourite pair of shoes

    doesn’t really look like a favourite pair.

    .

    They’re not fancy,

    not the kind people turn around to see.

    Honestly…

    they look like they’ve heard too many of my secrets.

    .

    But they’ve taken me

    to places I didn’t even know I needed to go.

    .

    To the first brave step

    when my heart said,

    “Maybe not today,”

    and they gently replied,

    “Just one step.”

    .

    They’ve walked me out

    on evenings that felt too heavy,

    and brought me back

    a little lighter than before.

    .

    They’ve hopped over puddles

    like it was a tiny adventure,

    and chased buses

    like missing it would’ve meant missing the day.

    .

    Sometimes they run with excitement.

    Sometimes they slow down for no reason.

    Sometimes they just stand quietly with me

    when life feels loud.

    .

    They’re a little worn now

    which I think means

    they remember everything.

    .

    Not just shoes, really…

    they’ve carried my small courage,

    my almost-gave-ups,

    my silly detours,

    and every moment

    that slowly became a memory.

    .

    And somehow,

    every time I didn’t know

    where I was going

    they still took me

    somewhere worth reaching. ✨👟💗

    .

    —Rajeshwari🧿💕

  • ✨ When Great News Arrives Wearing Fairy Wings ✨

    ✨ When Great News Arrives Wearing Fairy Wings ✨

    You get some great, amazingly fantastic news. What’s the first thing you do?

    The moment I get great news

    not gently,

    not politely,

    just BOOM💥

    straight from the universe

    like a shooting star💫

    that forgot to reduce speed…

    I freeze.

    Because joy always arrives

    like it’s running late

    for its own surprise party.🎉

    For a second,

    everything goes still

    even the wind pauses,

    as if it wants front-row seats.

    Then suddenly

    butterflies🦋 appear out of thin air,

    spinning around me

    like tiny, glittery cheerleaders

    who have been waiting

    for this exact plot twist.

    The sun☀️ tilts a little,

    giving me its golden nod of approval.

    Clouds ☁️ drift apart

    as if the sky wants

    a better view of my happiness.

    And the moment feels so magical

    that even reality seems confused.

    My first reaction?

    I try to act normal.

    A hopeless attempt, honestly.

    Because inside me,

    my inner drama queen👸

    is already doing cartwheels,🤸‍♀️

    screaming,😱

    Meanwhile,

    my over-smart inner voice

    adjusts its imaginary sunglasses😎 and mutters,

    “Great. Don’t faint.

    We don’t have a spare version of you.”

    And somehow,

    “Yesss, finally!”

    right between laughing😆

    and almost tearing up,🥹

    my heart♥️ whispers

    a tiny trembling “thank you”

    to something bigger than me

    the sky,

    luck,

    destiny,

    or maybe

    my own stubborn hope.

    But great news is never mine alone.

    It travels

    straight to the people

    whose joy rises and falls with mine.

    My little “gear wall” of humans

    the ones who cheer loudest,

    who keep my courage oiled,

    who celebrate my wins

    as if someone handed them the trophy🏆 .

    Family, friends, my constants

    their happiness echoes

    before mine even settles.

    Then comes that electric⚡️ moment

    when the news finally sinks in,

    and my whole world

    does a soft, silent fireworks🧨 explosion.

    A deep breath escapes

    the kind that feels like

    opening a window in your soul.

    And suddenly,

    every little thing

    the light, the breeze, the sky

    seems to celebrate with me.

    So what do I do

    when I get great news?

    I let myself smile😊.

    The honest, embarrassing,

    can’t-hide-it kind.

    The smile that starts small

    and then spreads

    like a butterfly🦋 discovering its wings🪽

    Because good news 🗞️

    doesn’t just arrive

    it blooms.

    Inside the chest.

    Across the face.

    All over the moment.

    And somewhere far beyond that

    in the hearts💕 of the people

    who love me.

    And I stand there, glowing,

    whispering to life,

    “If this is how magic feels…

    send more.”

    —Rajeshwari💕🧿

  • NIHSHABD (Beginnings Moving with Fear, Choosing to Begin)

    NIHSHABD (Beginnings Moving with Fear, Choosing to Begin)

    What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?

    What’s the thing I’m most scared to do?

    Almost… everything.

    I’m an introvert.

    Fear isn’t a rare emotion for me

    it’s a regular visitor.

    Doesn’t knock. Just walks in.

    Speaking up? Scary.

    Starting something new? Terrifying.

    “What will people think?”

    That fear comes with a lifetime subscription.

    I’m like a pretty little plant

    that flinches even in sunlight,

    yet somehow keeps growing

    because not growing was never really an option.

    The funny part?

    The very things I try to run from,

    life places right in front of me

    no warning, no choice.

    “Here. You have to do this.”

    And every time I think,

    Should I run?

    Hide?

    Disappear into a corner where nobody will find me?

    And I ask myself,

    What would it take to get me to do it?

    But then… something happens.

    A tiny initiative.

    The smallest beginning.

    Hands shaking, heart racing

    yet one step forward anyway.

    Yes, people judge.

    And yes, I judge myself even more.

    But somewhere inside that fear

    lives something rare

    like a diamond hidden inside a difficult stone.

    Quiet. Precious. Real.

    I’m not fearless.

    I’m just moving

    with fear beside me,

    with love in my pocket,

    and a little sense of humour to survive.

    Maybe courage isn’t about being brave at all.

    Maybe it’s about existing,

    and still choosing to begin.

    “A clenched human fist breaking through cracked stone, holding a glowing diamond, symbolising quiet courage and inner strength, with the text ‘Quiet Courage’ and a quote about moving forward with fear, love, humour, and Nihshabd.”
    “Courage doesn’t shout; it moves anyway”

    —Rajeshwari 💕

  • 🌙 “The Day I Lost My Daydream”🌙

    🌙 “The Day I Lost My Daydream”🌙

    What do you enjoy doing most in your leisure time?

    Daydreaming🌙

    I was quietly daydreaming,

    like every normal kid does

    building castles in my mind

    with doors that never shut.

    But suddenly, that day,

    my daydream ran away.

    It slipped out of my head

    like a naughty child at play.

    I chased it through my classroom,

    past math and geography,

    through whispers, chalk dust, sunlight

    all shouting, “Dream’s running free!”

    It hid behind the teacher’s book,

    then jumped onto a cloud,

    waved at me dramatically

    like heroes in a crowd.

    I almost caught it near my desk

    but it giggled “Not today!”

    Then it somersaulted mid-air

    and drifted far away.

    I stood there, half-confused,

    half-laughing at its style

    like seriously, my own dream

    just left me with a smile?

    But then things turned emotional;

    my chest felt strangely tight

    I missed the soft imagination

    that tucked me in at night.

    I whispered, “Come back, little dream…

    I still need you to grow.”

    And just then, like a magic trick,

    a warm wind started to blow.

    My dream returned quietly,

    like a shy kid after school,

    sitting back inside my mind

    like it always knew the rules.

    It said, “I left you for a second

    just checking if you care.

    Your heart still kept me safe,

    so I knew I’d find you there.”

    And since that day, I realised

    something beautiful and true

    dreams may wander far away,

    but they always come home to you.

    —Rajeshwari 💕🧿

  • Almost There…

    Almost There…

    Name an attraction or town close to home that you still haven’t got around to visiting.

    There’s a park three lanes away

    with a swing that still creaks politely,

    waiting for someone who isn’t in a hurry.

    I’ve never sat there.

    I pass it daily,

    like an unread message.

    A close-up of an empty wooden swing hanging by metal chains in a quiet, misty park, with a blurred bench visible in the background.
    An empty swing waiting in stillness—like a pause life keeps offering.

    The tiny tea stall near the signal

    the one with chipped cups and heroic ginger

    I always say next time.

    Next time has excellent attendance,

    but never shows up.

    A steaming kettle and two glasses of chai on a rustic wooden tea stall counter, surrounded by jars of snacks and blurred city lights in the background.
    A small tea stall and its quiet warmth—always close, always postponed.

    A bookshop hiding behind the stationery store,

    smelling of dust and old afternoons.

    I know it exists.

    I just don’t know it personally,

    There’s a temple, a bakery, a quiet bench,

    a road that bends instead of rushing straight

    all close enough to wave at me,

    far enough to be postponed.

    A warmly lit old bookshop beside a rustic chai stall on a quiet, winding road in the evening, with steam rising from kettles and a lone cat sitting in the misty distance.
    “A place I know exists… just not personally.”

    Weekends arrive like they’ve grown wings,

    Saturday yawns, Sunday sprints,

    and suddenly it’s Monday again,

    asking what I did with all that freedom.

    Life keeps happening in the big, loud things

    alarms, lists, groceries, deadlines

    while the small places sit patiently,

    unbothered by my excuses.

    Maybe one day

    I’ll take the long way home

    just to meet them.

    Not as a plan.

    Just as a pause.

    —Rajeshwari💕

  • We Were Never Meant To Arrive

    We Were Never Meant To Arrive

    If you could un-invent something, what would it be?

    A long empty road leading toward quiet mountains at sunset, symbolising an inner journey, solitude, and silent reflection — Nihshabd
    “Some roads don’t ask where you’re going.”

    If I could un-invent destination,

    it would be because everything beautiful happens before we arrive.

    The excitement that makes the heart race.

    The little fear that walks in quietly with hope.

    The journey where love begins softly

    not with promises,

    but with presence.

    A couple holding hands, walking together on a mountain path surrounded by misty hills, symbolizing love, journey, and togetherness – Nihshabd
    “Two hearts. One road. No hurry to arrive.”

    Walking side by side,

    sometimes talking,

    sometimes lost in silence,

    letting the road decide our pace.

    The open sky above us,

    the playful wind touching our faces,

    the tall mountains standing still,

    as if they know what we are becoming.

    In the journey,

    there is laughter that comes easily,

    there is longing that feels sweet,

    there is closeness that doesn’t ask for words.

    Time feels different here.

    Nothing is missing.

    Nothing is rushed.

    Not waiting for anything. Just sitting with what the journey left inside me.
    “The road rested outside the window,
    and so did her heart.”

    But when we reach the destination,

    everything gently shifts.

    The movement slows.

    The questions rest.

    The magic learns to be quiet.

    Not because love disappears,

    but because it has been felt fully,

    in every step,

    in every shared breath.

    A young man outdoors with friends, smiling in a shared moment, representing connection, presence, and quiet joy beyond words — Nihshabd
    “Some moments arrive quietly
    and stay longer than destinations.”

    Maybe love was never meant to be reached.

    Maybe it was meant to be lived

    on open roads,

    under wide skies,

    with wind in our hair

    and hands that never hurry to let go.

    —Rajeshwari 💕

  • Where I Felt Loved: A Heartfelt Poem of Tender Moments, Music, and Evening Breezes

    Can you share a positive example of where you’ve felt loved?

    A digital illustration of a woman in a vibrant, rainbow-colored saree made of tiny flowers, with flowers in her hair and soft, glowing colors all around her, reflecting grace, creativity, and the tender, colorful moments of love and life described in the poem.
    “A quiet bloom of color and feeling.”

    I felt loved

    in the golden hush of early mornings,

    when sunlight spilled like warm honey

    over my cheeks,

    and someone whispered,

    “You are enough,”

    soft as a breeze through jasmine.

    I felt loved

    when my thoughts, tangled like wild vines,

    were held gently,

    not pruned or rushed,

    but admired

    for the way they grew.

    I felt loved

    in the crimson glow of evening,

    when the sky melted into pinks and purples,

    and the breeze danced through my hair,

    tickling, teasing, whispering,

    “You are home.”

    I felt loved

    with a brush in my hand,

    painting emerald leaves and sapphire skies,

    watching colors swirl into stories,

    feeling the heartbeat of my soul

    bleed into every stroke.

    I felt loved

    in the soft melody of old songs,

    their notes floating like petals

    falling slowly into my chest,

    reminding me of laughter,

    memories,

    and moments I thought were lost.

    I felt loved

    not in perfection,

    but in the patchwork of my messy days,

    in the warmth of eyes that saw me

    as I am

    wild, fragile, fierce, tender.

    And in these quiet, luminous moments,

    I realized:

    love isn’t always loud.

    Sometimes,

    it is a rainbow in a single drop of rain,

    a heartbeat beside yours,

    steady, unwavering, infinite.

  • Inner Beauty of a Woman: A Soft and Poetic Reflection

    She is beautiful

    in the way mornings smile before the sun appears,

    in the way her heart knows how to feel

    without being taught.

    Love flows from her like a habit,

    kindness settles in her like light.

    She doesn’t chase happiness

    it finds her gently,

    rests in her laughter,

    and blooms wherever she stands.

    —Rajeshwari 💕

    A serene woman surrounded by soft light and blooming elements, symbolizing gentle joy, inner beauty, and a quiet, magical presence.
    ✨Where she stands, something gentle blooms.✨