Share – Care


Mumble was she doing, and he kept on listening,

they two had their space, yet in vigilance.

She kept her head on his shoulder,

he cris-crossed  his fingers on her curls.

She shared her entire day with him,

he kept on humming in his tone.

She said am tired, I need to sleep,

he opened his arm and shared his warmth.

She dozed off as if she cared any,

he stared at her as if she was a beauty title.

She woke with the best sleep ever,

he smiled with the tired arm ever.

Shruti Abhishek Shetty

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Blessings

Awakening all her senses she woke,
amidst deep sleep.
She heard some faint voice as if door is creaking,
She wasn’t sure who it was.

Dancing alone round the house,
tuning in her favourite music.
She felt someone brushing her hair,
She wasn’t sure who it was.

Sitting at her window,
reading her own written book.
She heard someone louder than her mind,
She wasn’t sure who it was.

Following her vaccum cleaner,
in the entire balcony.
She heard the leaves far behind her tatter,
She wasn’t sure who it was.

While praying in the grave,
sitting besides her granny’s tomb.
She noticed a heavy hand on her head,
She was now sure who it was.

— Shruti Abhishek Shetty

I GIVE MY HEART

I give my heart,
to your piece of art.
I love the way you talk,
with your eye you draw even without a chalk.

I give my heart,
for genuinely you are very smart.
You make me smile,
when your thoughts come in my mind for a while.

I give my heart,
you are a tick in my chart.
Teasing my beat,
you are my favorite meat.

-Shruti Abhishek Shetty

Dedication to WRITERS across💋 ❤️

Writing is fun,

as simple as making a bun.

Some say, writers are insane,

yes, what we write can never enter brainless mane.

 

Though star twinkles in clear sky,

its still there inside when clouds fly.

Writers have similar inception,

they are busy every time with their new creation.

 

When it’s all dark around,

We re-create bonds lost and found.

Writers tame situations in their belly,

however it may be hard or smelly.

 

Shruti Abhishek Shetty

 

 

How fictitious are YOU ?

Though you wish to pen down many things, you ultimately forced to write only those points which actually serve good in the society. Jotting down your heart and mind as it is without any filter would put you in huge trouble. Sometimes writing what you actually know or feel hurts a political party or sometimes mentioning what actually the fact was (unless you are a reporter) lands you up on a La La land tour by the counter part.

Writing is one such art where you can feel, see or rather visualize without something actually being there. Writing can take you places which actually don’t even exist. You can create fictitious character, place, story or anything. Nowadays fiction saves the World. Reading, Writing has took an upper trend today – Why? Do you actually know???

Fiction as a genre is booming this industry. People do fall prey for imaginary characters (P. S – Evil and Good both). Fantasizing love with a wildest beast, a man turning to beast overnight, a princess falling off a cliff yet being saved by a bed of cloud, all these might have created a 2-minuter AV (Audio Visual) in your mind. See!!! GOTCHA! You were somewhere out with these stories and the characters . Am I on-point ???

Fiction doesn’t have a pattern. You can go with the flow – imagine, write, create, live, re-create. People say those who are into fiction, lack there own personal life. There’s something missing: so they search those happiness in fiction. But I believe can’t it be otherwise? Get those fictitious characters alive within you, who lives their lives wholehearted, is jolly, is wicked, is kind, is generous, is love. Why can’t you be that character who is fictionalized by all but lived by none???

What’s your take on my writing or rather fictional writings? Do share what you feel. Do update me on which fictional character you wanna be? Or if you have some fictional character with you in your super mind please share it with me and the world on the comments below….

Shruti Abhishek Shetty

The Same Road..

It is the same road which I took for tuition,
the same road where I used to totter with mother, friends and siblings.
My fate and me had no idea,
the road would mean so much to me.

It is the same road, where I use to get goosebumps.
the same road where my feet went numb.
My luck would shine and I would see you,
I could not even hear ‘lub-dub’ inside me.

It is the same road which I peeped, in the darkness of night.
the same road where my sleepy eyes would lead you to your apartment,
My mind and me feel so nostalgic now,
when I peep out of the window to witness rain.

It is the same road which lead me in your apartment in your car,
the same road which now takes me to you everyday.
My dreams and me we have together moved with you,
dressed in bridal wear, pointed nose and high heel.

 

– Shruti Abhishek Shetty

Something’s missing…..

Her neighbors asked,
How are you?
She said, ‘Am good. ‘

Her relatives asked,
What’s going on?
She said, ‘Nothing’s special.’

Her colleagues asked,
Why are you not chirpy at office?
She said, ‘Am the usual me.’

Her in laws asked,
Why are you quiet?
She said, ‘I am tired.’

Her parents asked,
Do you need something?
She said, ‘just love me like you do.’

Her friends asked,
Do you want to share something?
She said, ‘I miss being with you all.’

Her love asked,
What’s wrong babe?
She broke in his arms and said, “I miss myself”

Shruti Abhishek Shetty