Blooming Among Wildflowers

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This Women's Day, I thought of collaborating with a kindred spirit and a wonderful writer herself, Anurima Bardhan. 

Two poets, heart beating with myriads words. 

I hope you will love the two contrasting portion of our poems, one showcasing the eternal colors of women and another elucidating how darkness inside a women is a beauty too.

Savor the poem, share it if you like and spread some love. 

(Today my brain is all about positivity so expect less of positi-witty from me XD)

*Drum rolls*




I have seen the woman laden in lilac in the fields of lilac 

vines cradled by the windy days     

Unfurling her airy aura

I have seen the woman decked with the red lacy dress

scaling the lengths of the floor stealthily just as the bouquet of roses,

maneuvered with care and not trampled with

A mystery with the touches of bold sensualness surrounding her

I have seen the woman flaunting her beauty in the hues of monochromatic pinks,

cherished like the dainty petals of the peonies

A delicate beauty tangled in the grasps of lust and love

I have seen the woman softly bedeck her curves with purple and violet,

an enchantress of those who lay eyes on her just like the blooms of iris

A witch in her cavern full of nightshades

I have seen the woman silhouetted with Black

just like the poison bat orchid..as dark as the midnight sky devoid of the stars

The danger with it's vicious sophistication lurking in 

the darkness ready to strike if harm claws at her.

I have seen the woman covered with the drapes of 

water like the hydrangeas in the depth of the abyssal

A tranquil, her haunts an artistic apparition to behold

I have seen the woman burn with passion

as the fiery flames of desire surround her...like the 

falling petals of the flame of the forest

Her passion burns, an unquenched trench

I have seen her wear the pearlescence white...the 

innocence of the dew drops on the baby's breath

Her innocence, as shield with the iridescent desires

~Anurima



I have seen her soaking in magenta hues of her dupatta

Which everyone tells her to embrace, covering her breasts.

I have seen her drowning in ambrosial yellows, 

getting cheated by the sun who often changes his hues.

And the cyan in her heart buried with dreams

yearning to swim among the candyfloss clouds.

And then one day I have seen her mixing

magenta, yellow and cyan with cheap Crayola,

All the hues blended into one---black.

Black, a darkness, a void created with so many vibrant tints.

Every woman's heart plays a Holi

But in the end just like our faces turning black with thousand tints,

her heart too gives the shade for this color

This doesn't mean she is weak or incapable.

Because what is light if there is no darkness to experience?

She needn't to be the rainbow with all colors,

She needn't hide her tears with a fake smile to satisfy 
everyone around,

She needn't be someone with fair skin without pimples,

Because she is like a granite of lively energy embracing imperfections,

Just like how we admire the craters of the silky moon

swarming with twinkling comrades amidst velvety black sky.

Don't make heart play with myriads hue

For she settles only on those hearts which

could take her forest fires as spring garden.

People judge her, but at the same time

compares her with metaphors of Goddess & lightning.

So they must remember if she is the lightning,

They are the ground getting it.

~Adrika

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Thank you my lovely friends for reading this. I know today was a happy read for you because you didn't got sick with my stale humour which I try to microwave and give you to devour🙂🔫
Happy Women's Day! Grow (b)old and age into a superstar grandma👵💪
Let me know how many of you got caught red handed this Holi?🤭
Lob you all<33

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