It's okay to shed tears, When pain converges. It's normal to be afraid of, Unnotified challenges. It's completely fine, To breakdown at the odd hours, When life leaves you at the question mark, Closing that one last door. Dear Men, We are proud of your courage. When nothing seems right, You appear as an escape. We, heartily, want you to know, Your existence matters, When nothing else do.

Arshi Acharya

The Past, present, future. How one chooses to utter; How one stands strong and firm; How one accepts the hurdles and it's norms; How one does away with the crowd, Just to stay different and proud; How one keeps the pace with the life varied motions; That one in everything is Education.

Arshi Acharya

Dearest Moonlight Beneath the star studded sky, Surrounding the bonfire in a winter night, Amidst the strings of the guitar, Dearest moonlight, My eyes and heart are stuck on you, With some good old tales and some new. When the silence takes over, And the night embraces me from a little nearer, Amidst the woods, by the lake, Dearest moonlight, I am set to converse with you, Of some good old days and some new. As the night grows darker and so on, Setting to reach the dawn, The tents will be zipped up for a patience to nurture, Dearest moonlight, I will bid my night's final good bye to you, For that sunshine to embrace the day and welcome new. The patience longing to watch, The red spilled blue sky view.

Arshi Acharya

The Poet Writes "The rain in october, Have been believed as the monsoon returns. Returns to the dry land of autumn, Bidding the last good bye, as the sole reason. Clouds darken up the sky, Hiding its sheer blueishness, Drenching up the awaited town, With her drizzle in silence. Silence of many untold tales, The shower converses with the land, Which doesn't appear to end, Just pausing with an "and....." Once the clouds pass by, The blue appears even bluer, The rain has made a promise, To come meeting the land, in the next year." The rain, the October, the autumn, Have all set to bid a farewell and start afresh and new. Closing the diary, the poet writes, "The rain has greeted and met one last time, Dearest beloved, When will you?"

Arshi Acharya

On the bed of clear blue sky, White clouds scattered all around. Brights and lights of fests are sensed, Decking up my little town. A short tale of love is being reaped, Amidst chaos and crowd. A little solace is searched for, In this very own town. A tiny meet and greet of The noon of autumn and the night of winter, In the nearing year-end, In this October.

Arshi Acharya

Alarm buzzed at 4 in the morning. Drowsily, I played the mahalaya in the laptop. The dawn is yet to set in, Few grey clouds departed from the orb. With the sweetish red, the sun shined bright in the east. White cumulus clouds scattered in the clear blue sky, Mild breeze winds in, "At last, Autumn", I sighed.

Arshi Acharya