Taruna Ghera

To think I had the most of you, After all that you put me through. What exactly did you want from me? Was I not enough, or was there another "she"?   I sit here still, contemplating what we had, At least I met you, and for that, I’m always glad. Yet sometimes, I wish our paths had never crossed, Maybe then, I wouldn’t feel so lost .   It seems destiny had its role to play, You and I weren’t meant to stay. Perhaps “right person, wrong time” is true, Your silence still stings like blood and lime, do.   You made me meet your family and friends, I never thought  that here, it all ends. Of all the times we had in the dark, To me, it was always the brightest, full of spark.   You were the light, you always have been, The love I had for you was never seen. If you'd let me, I would’ve bled dry, Letting you go, my hardest goodbye.   I hope that someday we’ll meet with intend, For one last "Hey!", long overdue, my friend. I’d remind you of that day, if ...

Come to me if you ever feel alone, Or I'll come to you, wherever we've flown. For love is not a path only you can pursue, If you let me, darling, I'll show a vivid hue. To cherish you, as you, was effortlessly done, You stand out amongst them, second to none. They came crying for my attention and love, While I was busy loving you, lifting you above. "Would you still love me at my worst?" "Love you at your worst", always comes first. To love you through your brightest days and dark, Not every love must bear a painful mark. Loving you ran through my veins like a river, Of boundless love and mysteries yet to deliver. Being with you felt like a home in human form, Where echoes of two hearts make this place warm. Warm like your breath on a winter's Sunday, That feels comfortable in the way you say, That I'm all yours and you're all mine, Like roots in earth, our souls intertwine. Your love is something that makes me believe, Why I’ve always worn m...

So many faces, so many minds, Yet none with whom my soul entwines. Perhaps it is you, the one I may call mine, Or should I wait for the stars to realign? But never have I met a mind so rare, A smile so tender, a gaze so debonair. Should I silence this ache before it begins, Or surrender once more to love’s cruel whims? Older I am, if only by years, Yet time bows not to age, nor to fears. We stand not where spring's blossoms unfurl, And I do not wish to claim or be claimed, my girl. Meeting him felt like a whisper of fate, A love from before, patient, innate. Since that moment, his shadow lingers, Perhaps I am bound by karma’s fingers. And here I write of you and me, Not as Donne’s Flea, nor love's decree. I seek no pretense, no grand display, But a verse to echo Rumi’s way. As now I feel a sudden shift in the weather, Happy is the moment when we sit together, With two forms, two faces, yet one soul, you and me. Your talks and laughs sound like a lullaby. - Taruna Ghera.

When the eyes meet across the room, It all feels like spring and flowers bloom. Is this what they mean by butterflies? Loving someone comes with a huge price.   Being unaware of God's plans, Not once did I pray with joined hands. Maybe that's why I am here crying in my room, Spring never came, and the flowers didn't bloom.   Perhaps it was more than just our fate, Perhaps I was nothing more than bait. Or perhaps, in love, heartbreak is the price. For you needed more, and I couldn't suffice.   So, here I am writing about us, smiling, While the endless memories started dialing, The moments we've had, once, together, Loving you in silence was lighter than a feather.   Now you're just a shadow of time long gone, Yet, like dusk, I'll recall you with every dawn, And when at night I miss you and those lullabies, My face has a smile, but my heart always cries.   Maybe someday my mind will let this all go, When my heart smiles, my face might cry though, Of the heartb...

Oh! Here it is, again, Left me with hope and in vain. To say that all is well,  I still remember those eyes and the smell. Oh! Here it is, again, Left me with hope and in vain. To say that it was a one-time thing,  Like lemon and blood, your love sting. Oh dear! I found myself thinking, How would it feel to stop sinking, Into the memories and the long wait, Didn't expect this to be my fate. Now that it is here again,  Full of hope, love and pain. The tears are not just salty water, But echoes of dreams left to falter. Dreams like sipping coffee beside you, All along I didn't have a clue,  That it's not always what it seems,  To be with you was all in my dreams.   Perhaps, one day I'll find the key, Where you and I, both, will agree. That my heart is where your heart lies, Yet you left me with watercolor eyes. - Taruna Ghera.

It's 2025! A whole year has passed by and yet, it still feels like yesterday, doesn't it? One good thing about the new year is we get to crack the same old joke again, "I'll see you next year", on the night of 31st December and the fact that no one even gets mad at it makes it relatable even more.  As the laughter fades, though, it’s worth pausing to think about what the new year truly means for everyone. Did we really make it to a "new year", or is it just a moment where people share their achievements and reflect on what they could afford to do? Well, it's good to have achieved things you have always wanted to, but before sharing it with anyone, pause for a moment and think of all the times you were still stuck somewhere, and your peers were achieving the things you once wished to. Is it fair to overlook those still struggling to make sense of life, survival, and existence? While it's wonderful to celebrate personal victories, it's equally ...

There are certain days you wish would never end, like a birthday, for instance. Imagine if such a day could stretch to 72 hours, packed with endless joy, cherished memories, and all the things that make you feel truly alive. These are the moments that remind us of the essence of living, a sense of fulfillment, a discovery of something we didn’t even know we were seeking, a glimpse of life at its most vibrant. But here’s the thing: while I could write about these feelings endlessly, and trust me, I have, more times than I can count, I keep coming back to one question: how much is too much? Is there ever a limit to expressing something you love purely with all your heart and soul? Does talking about it, sharing it, and writing about it over and over somehow dilute its meaning? Maybe the answer lies not in how often we express it, but in how deeply it resonates each time. If the emotion is genuine, its meaning doesn’t fade, it evolves, adding new layers of understanding and connection. A...