Tag: Poetry

  • A Different Kind of Minimalism✨

    A Different Kind of Minimalism✨

    Daily writing prompt
    Do you believe in minimalism?

    A Different Kind of Minimalism: Not Less Life, Just Less Noise

    Perhaps minimalism is not always about owning less. Sometimes, it is about carrying less.

    ——————————————

    Do You Believe in Minimalism?

    I do.

    But probably not in the way Instagram wants me to.

    My bookshelves are full.

    My camera roll is overflowing.

    And I still keep random things because they remind me of random days.

    So clearly, I am not winning any minimalist awards.

    But over the years,

    I have become a minimalist in other ways.

    I keep fewer grudges.

    They’re heavy,

    take up too much space,

    and never match the decor.

    I keep fewer expectations too.

    Not because I don’t care,

    but because I’ve learned that people are much happier

    when they’re allowed to be themselves

    instead of the characters we cast them as.

    I try to keep fewer worries.

    The future already has enough of its own.

    It doesn’t need me rehearsing disasters

    like I’m preparing for an audition.

    And I’ve become very selective

    about what gets permanent residence in my head.

    Some thoughts are just tourists.

    They don’t need property rights.

    Nature seems to understand this better than we do.

    A tree doesn’t grow extra leaves

    to impress the tree next door.

    A bird doesn’t compare its flight path

    with another bird’s.

    The sunrise never arrives and says,

    “I hope everyone likes me today.”

    It simply shows up and does its thing.

    What confidence.

    What freedom.

    Maybe that’s the kind of minimalism I believe in.

    Not fewer possessions.

    Fewer pressures.

    Not emptier rooms.

    A quieter mind.

    Not less life.

    Just fewer things standing between me

    and the life I keep forgetting to enjoy.

    ——————————————

    ✦ A Thought to Leave With

    Perhaps growing older is not about collecting more and more.

    Perhaps it is learning what deserves a place in our lives—

    and gently showing the rest the door. 🌿

    With love,

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • A Little Bit of Magic Called Life

    A Little Bit of Magic Called Life

    Daily writing prompt
    What is the meaning of life?

    What Life Feels Like ✨

    Sometimes,
    when I sit quietly
    and think about life,
    it feels like a tiny beautiful moment
    running softly through my hands
    before I can hold it completely.

    Like a butterfly
    that chooses your shoulder
    for just a second. 🦋

    Like a rainbow
    appearing shyly after rain
    only to disappear again
    as if magic was never meant
    to stay forever. 🌈

    Life feels golden sometimes —
    sunlight tangled in hair,
    music floating through rooms,
    giggles that arrive unexpectedly,
    laughter so pure
    it heals hidden corners inside us.

    And sometimes life is simply
    a soft breeze,
    a silver line behind dark clouds,
    a strange little miracle
    hiding inside ordinary days.

    To me,
    life is not a race to win.

    It is freedom.
    Peace.
    Clarity.
    Love without conditions.
    Happiness found in tiny things.

    It is dancing foolishly in the kitchen,
    singing wrong lyrics loudly,
    being playful without shame,
    staying a little crazy,
    a little quirky,
    a little wonderfully undone.

    Life is learning to live
    without grudges heavy in the heart.
    To let go gently.
    To forgive quietly.
    To protect your peace
    like something sacred.

    And maybe the meaning of life
    is not something huge at all.

    Maybe it is simply this —

    to love deeply,
    laugh endlessly,
    feel everything fully,
    and leave behind
    a little warmth,
    a little music,
    and a little magic
    wherever we go. ✨

    .

    A dreamy sunset scene with a girl, butterflies, rainbow, and soft magical vibes beside the title Nihshabd.
    Tiny moments. Big feelings. Infinite magic. ✨

    .

    —Rajeshwari 🧿💕

    © Nihshabd by Rajeshwari. All Rights Reserved

  • 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

  • Collecting Colours the World Forgot

    Collecting Colours the World Forgot

    Some people heal in silence,
    some buy expensive candles,
    and some of us stare at butterflies
    like they personally pay our therapy bills.

    .

    I belong to the third category.

    .

    A butterfly passes by
    and suddenly my entire personality becomes
    “poet standing dramatically near window during rain.”

    .

    Honestly, embarrassing.

    .

    But tell me
    how does something so tiny
    carry an entire rainbow
    without looking arrogant about it?

    .

    If humans had those colours
    we’d immediately start a podcast.

    .

    Butterflies simply float around
    like soft little reminders that
    beauty does not need announcement,
    only sunlight.

    .

    And perhaps a flower or two.

    .

    Sometimes I think
    God created butterflies
    on a Friday evening
    when heaven’s creative team said,
    “Let’s add glitter to nature
    but make it emotionally intelligent.”

    .

    Excellent decision, truly.

    .

    Because look carefully
    every butterfly feels like
    a flying piece of weather.

    .

    A little barish.(rain)
    A little dhoop.(sunlight)
    A little khushboo (fragrance) of forgotten gardens.
    A little magic stitched into wings.

    .

    Even the breeze behaves differently around them,
    like the wind itself is trying not to be rude.

    .

    Meanwhile humans…
    one inconvenience
    and we become unpaid philosophers.

    .

    Wifi slow?
    “Nothing in life is permanent.”

    .

    Tea cold?
    “This world lacks warmth.”

    .

    But butterflies?
    Zero complaints.
    Just vibes and floral diplomacy.

    .

    I envy that.

    .

    I too wish to enter rooms
    the way butterflies enter gardens
    quietly, beautifully,
    making everything look softer
    without touching a thing.

    .

    Maybe that is why
    I love colours so much.

    .

    Not loud colours.
    Not festival-shop chaos.

    .

    I mean the gentle colours.

    .

    The glow after rain.
    The pink hiding inside sunsets.
    The golden smell of old evenings.
    The blue that lives quietly in lonely skies.

    .

    Those colours.

    .

    The kind that do not scream,
    yet somehow stay in your memory
    longer than people.

    .

    But beautiful things usually are.

    .

    And perhaps that is the real magic
    not becoming extraordinary,
    but remaining soft
    in a world training everyone
    to become stone.

    So if someday
    you see me smiling at butterflies
    like an emotionally unstable Disney princess,
    please mind your business.

    .

    I am busy collecting colours
    for the parts of me
    the world tried to leave grey. 🦋✨

    .

    Dreamy pastel collage featuring butterflies, rainbow-toned typography, soft skies, flowers, and a girl watching the sunset beside the title Collecting Colours the World Forgot.
    For hearts that romanticize rain clouds and tiny miracles. ☁️🦋

    .

    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

  • 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

  • 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.)

  • My Dream Home (With My Feel, My Chaos, My Magic)

    My Dream Home (With My Feel, My Chaos, My Magic)

    Write about your dream home.

    A tiny house, hugging the earth, not trying to impress anyone

    just quietly saying, “Here I am. This is me.”

    In front, a garden. My garden.

    A tree with a swing. Sit, sway, swishhh…

    and suddenly, all tension? Gone. Just like that. Magic, right?

    Kids’ laughter everywhere. Random giggles, shrieks, little explosions of happiness.

    Birds gossip in the trees like they know all my secrets.

    Flowers perfume the air so strongly, I sometimes forget to breathe.

    Bees? Drama queens with tiny wings, buzzing like, “Yes, yes, we are busy, don’t bother us!”

    And the breeze… oh, that cheeky breeze… it plays with my hair,

    reminding me, “You belong here. Don’t forget it.”

    Evenings are chaos with Kiwi.

    She jumps, runs, zooms like the garden is her racetrack,

    while I dig in the soil planting vegetables, flowers, maybe my sanity somewhere too.

    Time? Who cares. Lost among petals, dirt, and laughter.

    My house… it’s heaven.

    Every corner has a story, a hug, a little secret.

    Guests feel at home… but secretly,

    I know, my mark is everywhere. My laughter, my chaos, my stories.

    There’s a secret nook where the sky leans in.

    We lie there, staring at stars, making constellations only we understand.

    Hours vanish, reality pauses, and my heart whispers:

    “This is exactly where we belong.”

    Another corner my arts and crafts kingdom.

    Tiny worlds of color, glitter, and chaos, all mine.

    Step in, and the world fades. Creativity takes over.

    Another nook music. My soundtrack, my secret spells,

    turning ordinary nights into magic, turning strangers’ dreams into friends.

    There’s a staircase that climbs up success steps, dream steps, maybe just look-at-how-high-I-can-go steps.

    And a tiny temple for me. Where I melt into Krishna’s presence,

    and the world can wait. Seriously, let it wait.

    Every corner bursts with joy, a sprinkle of mischief, a pinch of sarcasm, and tons of love.

    Blessings of elders, kids’ chaos, Kiwi’s energy full combo pack.

    And me? I sit, laugh, plant, dream, sing, play, and leave tiny footprints of magic everywhere.

    This is my home, my little heaven, my chaos, my music, my smell, my heartbeat.

    A place where laughter sticks, dreams float,

    and anyone who walks in… leaves smiling, thinking:

    “Wow… maybe such a home really exists.

    —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💕🧿