The Last Day


Once again it's December 31. It has been a ritual to have a seemingly long, improbable and a questionable list of resolutions for the upcoming year. That has been our mantra of ringing in the new. I also put in all the energies and ordered all my mental channels to put their heads together and chalk out something for a way out of the end and rise again from the ashes on the first of January, may be just like every time. It's here that we may fall short of gathering up our own bits that we actually need to carry forward safely while stepping into the new, it's not all ashes after all. We need to have roots first, to enjoy the winged delight. 
For  me the Thirty First of December is the 'WHO AM I?' exercise time and I have been religiously following this ritual ever since I first wrote my blog post 'Who Am I?', way back in 2007. And it's different and distinct in flavour each time, for which I reward myself with a pat on the back that I have not been static and have certainly made a progress towards being the real me. It takes up a whole lot of courage to be our own selves in this world, where each one of us fighting it out to carve out an identity for oneself. 
I have grown up in the last one year, and of course, this does not entail the chronological progress, though that's a necessary evil! I don't look back at this set of 365 with any regret and I look forward to the new one. I believe love is not a past perfect tense, it is indeed a continuous tense. And it is this continuity that binds us with life. 
For all those things that I consider myself answerable to myself, I will continue to abide by them. 
I know what love is and that would continue to stay the same and not just be restructured and rebuilt on the lines of the world of convenience enveloping me. For all those things I am answerable to my loved ones, I will stick to them the same as I have done in the previous year. I'll stay the same in all those ways that restrict me from poking my nose into others' affairs, hurting others to satisfy my ego issues, falling in line with the typical and stereotype gender demarcations. 
I'll just be a bit more of myself making an inch of a progress towards being the best edition of myself.

Beauty of Rain


I wrote my first poem on rain and that too on a rainy day with raindrops falling on the marble floor outside and lashing against the window panes but knocking at the door of my heart to enter deep within. The drops that can provide solace to a burning heart!
~Amritbir

A Drop in the Desert



In this world of sands all around
I'm not even a speck
If dropped from the eye
will nowhere be seen then.


ਇਸ ਰੇਤ ਦੇ ਸਮੁੰਦਰ'ਚ
ਮੈਂ ਕਤਰਾ ਵੀ ਨਹੀਂ
ਕਦੀਂ ਡਿੱਗ ਗਿਆ ਜੇ ਨਜ਼ਰ'ਚੋਂ
ਨਜ਼ਰ ਵੀ ਆਵਾਂਗਾ ਨਹੀਂ |

© Amritbir Kaur

The Last Day

Once again it's December 31. It has been a ritual to have a seemingly long, improbable and a questionable list of resolutions fo...