Anirudh Bhardwaj - The official blog | Poems | Short Stories | Articles

She was standing there at the Jetty. Looking at a distant ship, she hoped to be on one. So she could just run away from all the trouble this life had been giving her lately. She was looking for an escape. And that's probably the reason why she had come thousands of miles away from her hometown, hoping to leave her worries behind. But that didn’t seem to help either. In a city full of strangers, she felt vulnerable. And why not? She had never been anywhere alone after all. And this unplanned trip to Goa was never on her bucket list. Of course, she wanted to come here, but not like this. Not as a loner who was looking for a peace of mind. But the turn of events that took place lately changed everything. And after all that happened, she wanted to get as far away from that place as possible and landed up here in Goa. Yashasvi had just completed her post graduation and in the weeks that followed, she found herself surrounded by sorrow and trepidation. At the age of 26, Yashasvi ha...

In the moonlit night she walks by the sea Searching for the gilded chest she once had concealed. The time has flown, the daddy's little princess has grown. In search of the forgotten teenage mire, She strives to leave past her lecherous desire. Staring at the surface, she prays for an Alchemy Turning lead into gold, transcendence is what she needs. Reflecting in the water, her teenage self smiles back Reminding of the talismanic evenings, she once had. Now as a woman, she is so consumed in her household chores Keeping others happy in spite of her immaterial woes. Her world has changed, in so many ways She hardly remembers those carefree days. But searching for the gilded chest, she would never leave For it would unleash, the long lost Alchemy. And on a fine evening as the whole world sleeps Turning lead into gold, she would break free. - Anirudh Bhardwaj

Keeping my cell phone on the lower shelf of the counter, I took a step outside to admire the beautiful weather. Sensing the petrichor that scented up the surroundings, I could tell that a thunderstorm was fast approaching. The arrival of monsoon in Pune is a moment to rejoice. Tiny raindrops embracing your face like a gentle breeze, it’s something you can’t experience anywhere else. Standing on the front porch outside my cafe, I could see people enjoying the moment. Seeing their smiling faces, I felt intoxicated all of a sudden. Like all my worries were fading into thin air. Soon enough, the dark blue skies started pouring rain, and I stepped inside. As I sat on the executive chair, my eyes scanned the interior to know the current occupancy. The cafe was almost empty. Except for a girl who drew my attention the moment I saw her. It wasn’t really the girl who drew my attention, but the book she was reading. Partly because the book was all I could see, for her face was right be...

As the day bleeds into nightfall and the moon starts to shine A woman sits by the creek in a forest full of pines Surrounded by the ravenous wolves yearning for her flesh She stares at the beast who keeps her chained for the pack Hoping that one day she would take back her dignity She offers herself every night to the monsters who sold their morality When the night is dark and the wolves all asleep She looks down in the water and laughs at her grief Wondering how the beauty turned out to be her enemy Almost as if it was the curse of Persephonie As in the box of Pandora, there's one thing that forever lives  Hidden deep inside her box-like heart is the hope to change her destiny  Clinging to this hidden gem, she can still endure countless miseries  But how beautiful the world is outside, she keeps having reveries And as long as she lives, she will hold on To the dreams of her past that still keep her strong And on a sto...

Away from the maddening crowd where the human noise ends Lies a winding stairway that no one ever descends Visible to all, yet hard to spot It leads to a place that demons sought Deep into the woods, away from sight There lives a woman who dances in the night And on the moonlit nights, she dances with a ghost Her shamanism entices spirits from the coast No one knows her origin and the cause Neither she's a witch nor she's an ogre And listening to her soulful melodies Countless men have given in to the felonies Every single man who comes in her sight Turning into a vicious sod, he either kills or he dies - Anirudh Bhardwaj

The drive till Lonavala was quite smooth but as we took the Amby Valley route towards the Lion’s Point, the visibility suddenly dropped to merely 15-20 meters. It was a foggy trail and the mist covered mountains and valleys were barely visible. For the next 10 kilometers, I had to drive in third gear at less than 40 kmph. And it took us almost an hour to reach that place, a journey that should have been covered in less than 30 minutes.  As we stepped down at Lion’s Point, we were greeted by a misty weather and cool breeze sloshing our bodies with piffling drizzles. The ground was a bit muddy due to incessant rains but the climate absolutely stunning. Our voices were barely audible amidst the sounds of the bustling wind which struck our ears in the most amazing way. The view, however, was hindered by the fog and mist. The fog was so dense that we could see nothing down the hill except for the tiny traces of verdant valleys straight ahead. “I told you, visiting Lonavala...

By the time we reached Purushwadi, it was all dark except for the tiny traces of light in the sky. It looked like the entire village had very limited electricity. Most of the houses were lit with oil lamps. They were not even houses, they were thatched huts that looked centuries old. More or less, it looked like backward region of Maharashtra that remains untouched by the urban population. I wondered that’s probably what most Indian villages looked like before independance or years before that.  There was nothing to admire except for the greenery which of course was because of the monsoons. During this period, every village in Maharashtra will offer this kind of verdancy, perhaps even better. The whole village was surrounded by agricultural lands. As we moved further, we were greeted by several local villagers. Most of the men were wearing Kurtas and a white colored Nehru cap. Several women were seated at the front porch of their houses. They wore traditional sarees cov...