Poems ,Stories and lot more .. By Maneesha Purandare

In Oxford's hallowed halls, Gargi stood, Completing her Masters, she knew she could. Amidst gowns and mortar boards, happiness embrace, We beamed with pride,joy and  love's grace. Biochemistry's challenge, once so tough, Now conquered with brilliance, more than enough. Latin echoed the traditions of old, A convocation ceremony to behold. Ruth and Jane, mentors wise, Their hearts warmed with joy in their eyes. Guidance  invaluable, a precious gift, Helping Gargi's spirits lift. Akshaj, our dear son, with heart so  sincere, Wanted to be there, his sister to cheer. But space restrictions at Sheldonian's gate, Kept him afar, a twist of fate In the company of friends, hearts aligned, Suvira, Sanjeev, Rishin, and Eashan intertwined. Their smiles and laughter, memories to treasure, A journey shared, a bond to measure. Yet amidst the joy, a tinge of sorrow, As time bid farewell, the end of tomorrow. A phase now closed, a chapter complete, But ahead lies a future, bright and

In the tapestry of modern love we weave A delicate dance of hearts that cleave, Through highs and lows, we find our way, Like a symphony that we play each day. Yet, shadows loom, as they did before, In World War's grasp, emotions tore, Auschwitz phase, a symbol of despair, Where hearts were broken, beyond repair. In love, as in war, we often find, The value of treasures left behind, We take for granted, the love we share, Until it's lost, caught in the snare. Hitler's greed, a stark reflection, Of how power can lead to a soul's rejection, In modern ties, we sometimes yearn, For more than what our hearts can earn. But let us learn from history's tale, And in our love, let truth prevail, Seeking joy in what we hold dear, Embracing moments, free from fear. In the embers of modern love's embrace, Let empathy and compassion replace, The Auschwitz phase of doubt and greed, With lasting love, let hearts be freed Background.. Second world war wiped off families, places

  In a  house not far away, Lived a husband, who advised everyday! He treated her like a child, With corrections running wild. Midway through her conversations, He'd interject with explanations, "Actually, my dear," he'd say, And her words would swiftly sway. Advice was his expertise, But not for her, if you please, When she met her dear old friend, No advice to her she could extend. "Keep your wisdom to a hush, Don't be offering advice, oh, shush!" He warned her, with a wagging finger, Oh, the joy that love can bringer! Fear not said she ,"dear husband of mine, For a witty comeback I'll always find," I'll play along and nod with glee, But deep inside, I'll still be me. But deep inside, I'll still be me. Maneesha 9.07.2023 Dedicated to all the friends with dominating and always in command husbands!!!

 Today, in our waiting room, I was deeply impressed by a remarkable young child. Unlike other children of his age, he held a book in his hands and patiently awaited his turn to have his ears examined. His intelligence, courteousness, and wisdom were truly extraordinary, leaving such an indelible impression on me that I was inspired to pen a heartfelt poem dedicated to him. The book  reading ' spy kid!' In the waiting room, a kid sat, With left ear pain, quite the brat. But unlike others, a book he held tight, No iPad or mobile, his source of delight. Spy puzzles filled the pages, oh my! A clever little lad, oh so spry. With confidence, he breezed through each test, In the world of spies, he was the best. The doctor called, it was his turn, With wax in his ear, he was ready to learn. Microsuction awaited, a peculiar affair, But our fearless spy kid had not a single care. Into the room, he strolled with a smile, Spy gadgets hidden, his secret style. The doctor, impressed, couldn&

 In a cozy nest, once bustling and bright, Now empty and silent, day and night. The chicks have flown, their wings spread wide, Leaving me feeling a little defied. Oh, the house is quiet, too quiet indeed, No laughter, no chaos, just silence, indeed. I wander around, feeling useless, it's true, Wondering what to do, feeling quite blue. Once a chief cook and bottle washer supreme, Now I'm left with empty pots and a silent dream. I've got tales to tell, stories galore, But who will listen, now that they've flown out the door? My worth feels diminished, my purpose unclear, As I navigate this strange new frontier. I yearn for meaning, a purpose, a role, To fill up my days, to make myself whole. I've tried writing and yoga, artistry, and more, But nothing quite fills that empty nest sore. I long for adventure, for something brand new, To break free from the monotony, to bid it adieu. Perhaps I'll take up skydiving or pole vaulting, Or invent a gadget for less cumbers

वाळूमध्ये वेडे मन शिंपले शोधत राहते  वाळूमध्ये वेडे मन शिंपले शोधत राहते,   कण्हेरी च्या फुलामध्ये गुलाब हुडकू लागते.  अंधाराला भ्यालीस तरी ठरशील तू भ्याड  अंधाराला भ्यालीस तरी ठरशील तू भ्याड  सोडू नकोस त्या विचाराना, मूल ते  चंचल अन द्वाड ! अनोळखी रस्ता, वाटा पाय  राहतात शोधत  अनोळखी रस्ता वाटा  पाय  राहतात शोधत पिसाट वारा मात्र  गुपित राहतो  सांगत.  मन काहीबाही जेव्हा, सांगू काही पाहत  मन काहीबाही जेव्हा सांगू काही पाहत  'गप काही बोलशील तर ' त्याला टाकते सांगून  ऐन हिवाळ्यात वसंताची ऊब शोधत राहते ऐन हिवाळ्यात वसंताची ऊब शोधत राहते किती हि  रोखा वेड मन   एकटेच गात राहत ! कितीहि  रोखा वेड मन   एकटेच  गात राहत ! 10.2.23 मनीषा पुरंदरे

  Guilt weighs heavy on my heart, For all the times I've been apart, From the mother who has loved me so, And watched me grow. I've missed her words of wisdom true, Her guiding hand,and  loving view, And though I've made my own way, The guilt remains to this day. I've been too busy chasing dreams, To hear her silent, loving themes, And now the guilt consumes my mind, For all the times I've been unkind. I wish I could go back in time, And make things right, and make them shine, But all I have is guilt and pain, For not being there again and again. I hope she knows I love her so, And that my heart is filled with woe, For all the times I've been away, And left her with an empty space And left her with an empty space... Maneesha Purandare 23.1.23

  An old man walks the streets alone,H is thoughts as heavy as a stone. He visits cafes, shops, and bars, Just looking for someone to talk  and let the time pass . He tells stories of his past, Of love and loss that didn't last. He listens to the stranger's tales, And for a moment, he forgets his lonely wails. He finds solace in the company, Of those he's just met, that's a rarity. For in this world, where people rush, He finds a sense of human touch. Though he may be alone in life, He finds connection in the strangers, free from strife. And as he walks the streets once more, He feels a little less lonely, a little more sure. Maneesha Purandare 23.1.23 Background..I come across many elderly people on the bus who yearn for company , to talk to someone...this inspired me to write a poem!

  I procrastinate like it's my job, I'll put off tasks 'til the next lob. I'll clean my room, but not today, I'll do it tomorrow, what can I say? I've got a paper due, but it's not done, I'll write it later, just for fun. I'll start my work, but not just yet, I'll watch some videos, I won't fret. I'll make a call, but not right now, I'll do it later, somehow. I'll pay my bills, but not today, I'll do it tomorrow, what can I say? My to-do list is growing long, But I'll just procrastinate and sing this song. I'll get it done, but not right now, I'll do it later, anyhow. I'll get it done, but not right now, I'll do it later, anyhow... Maneesha Purandare 25.1.23 Brewing  in my mind for a long time  and finally completed it today!!  Procrastination duh!!

 Pathan.... In Pathaan the action cum sci-fi movie, The special effects are so groovy, But sometimes the plots are so cheesy, You'd think they were made by Feta and Brie! Shahrukh and John Abraham are so buff, With muscles that make you say "wowza!", But have you ever wondered, How they fit in those tight spandex powza! The explosions were so loud, And the gunfire never seemed to cease, But have you ever thought about, The poor eardrums of the police? In the air, the battle is fierce, With jets and planes flying in a blur, On a train, the action is intense, With punches and kicks flying clear! On ice, the fighters are slick, Sliding and gliding with such grace, But I wondered, How they didn't slip and fall on their face.? Deepika our desi Lara Croft, the adventurer, Explores the vault , without any censor, She always found the orbs and treasure  Without any proper indicator!! So next time you watch this action flick, And the plot sounds too preposterous, Just remember

  In the casualty, the hours crept by With the beeps and buzzes of machines The cries of pain, the muffled sighs Of those who suffer and lean. In walked a man with a finger broken, With eyes full of tears and voice so choken.. With every movement, he cried in pain Talking gibberish ,not so sane! But through the pain, he did not moan For in time, it will be a story shown Of a broken finger, soon to be whole And the strength it took, to reach that goal. In one corner sat a nauseous girl With a churning feeling and a whirl She sat there with her IV stand , Hope in her head and a sick -bowl in her hand! There in that corner sat a chatty old man His stories flew like a whirring fan. Of days gone by, and loves lost His voice, a soft and gentle cost. With every word, he painted a scene Of laughter and tears, and what might have been. His eyes twinkled with a spark of youth As he shared his tales, and told the truth. The smell of antiseptic filled the air As the medics