Tuesday, March 4, 2014


Orange flames of the candles dance by the wall.
In remembrance of a holiday, or in celebration of what is to come.
The answer is, before the flames wither - to surrender life or to create anew.
Whilst wax melts and forms a new shape, a new role, a new meaning,
Tears wash away the light, but the heart remains...life remains
-Karesma Patel

Poem translated to hindi by Swapnil Dave. 
Thank you, beautifully done! 

"Reshmi moamm ke chiraagh deewar pe leherti nazar aatey hai, 
shaayad kisi haseen lamhe ki yaad mein ya phir ane vaale lamhe ke intezaar mein.
Iska jawaab to chiraagh hi jaane, ke kya umeed le ke ayegi zindagi ke hume bataane.
Waqt ke saath moam zaroor pighalta hai lekin uske pighalne se banta hai naya chehra, naya andaaz aur naye raaz,
moam ke ansu ke saath saath roshni bhi badti hai, zindagi bhi chalti hai aur dil bhi dhadakte hai..."


As the autumn leaves sink beneath the wet, evanescent grass,
the branches, in sight of grey stand naked, welcoming nature's fall of white.
A contemporary beginning where the radiance fades from orange to white,
from pumpkins to beets, and rakes to shovels.
Bright leaves, fresh water, airy snowflakes, ray beams..
new each year, as a phase of life. 
To change and renew oneself as a phase of life. 
Be the radiance, be the revivement. 
-Karesma Patel



 A golden piece, he is.
Difficult to break. For if he does, still valuable like molten riches.
For keepers, I hold him close, I protect him, I wear him. 
A chain that reaches my heart or an earring that I lose to his love.
For his worth, I do. 
The grind, the stress, the pressures he can take - turns him into dust. 
Yet, illuminates like a star, love. 
-Karesma Patel