Perfect three...

I need privacy with you, 

no matter what we do,

maybe I just cook for you

or simply brew the coffee and stew,

Privacy is all I need with you,

no matter it's just cleaning the roof

or simply moping the marbled floor,

It's all about you and me,

with privacy as an icing on top;

hopping around in shorty shorts,

making love till the twinkling of the stars

Alone we both or 'together-alone'

lost in our world, when nobody's home;

that's where privacy plays its role,

it is we both inside with everyone restricted to the entrance door;

Household chores or a pretty treat,

all is manageable if we have a private retreat.

It is all about the perfect three,

you, me and our pretty privacy.

                                                    -Vartika Saxena

Random Thought #57

Besides the fact that the numbers of rape and brutal acts are increasing day by day. Still, there are certain homes where even a phone call from a distant formal relative of somebody's death leaves a quietness of mourning silence.
#RIP_Insensitivity
                                                       -Vartika Saxena 

How could someone be so damn pretty strong!

Like the clouds, she would cover up the deserted land...
and with a blissful shower, she would fill the cracks in the droughted sand...
with the cool breeze covering up the warm loo...
she would sweep the hair along with the peaceful bloom...
with skies at midnight like a starry roof...
she would provide a deep sound sleepy snooze...
with those beautiful auroras on the polar exits, giving hope in frozen lands to live a few more days,
we witness those thin pretty rainbows on the urbanscape that rejuvenates us from the daily forsake...
those red-brown leaves on streets mane...
autumn seems to be a colourful landscape...
those floral rings in colours unseen...
is a sure shot sign of welcoming greens...
weather and seasons might arrive and descend,
out mother nature will stay in her glorious crescent...
showering her love in the darkest of ills...
she protects us from the harshness of seasonal conflicts...

 Ohh! mother nature
 how could someone be so damn pretty strong...
                                                     -Vartika Saxena 

Moral values or enthrusted boundations

Breathe dear, a little more, the baby was told,

a birth has taken place in a nearby enclose...

life has come to survive its time destined for,

unaware of what legacies he beholds...

when debated legacies? or the restrictions or boundations?

well, the elder called it legacies, we call it boundations...

the infant is a life, a nature's mate to be nurtured...

unless he is told his dimensions and his restrictions...

the religion, caste and the creed was not all, he is enthrusted upon,

in addition, he is told the privileged of his sex...

superiority to women is his first lesson,

later he will learn about colour and discrimination...

Now he is called a learner, but unaware of the fact that they've turned another nature's mate into a grown-up, just like them...

a source of fake and hollow walking the streets,

is what the people have been giving to mother nature, all the time it seems...

                            -Vartika Saxena