#villagelife

17 posts
  • ani_sharma 10w

    A morning walk

    An early morning walk to the countryside. Cattle grazing in the farm fields. Dusty road with mango trees on either side of it. Birds of varieties flying and singing everywhere. Their voices, though all different from each other, create a sweet symphony in the surrounding. And my ears relishing it to the depth of my soul.

    Looking from distance at the mist-covered village like the last night had put a blanket over it to keep it warm. The sun is slowly coming up on the horizon filling up the saffron colour on the grey and silver clouds. With the first ray of the sunshine piercing the dew drops on grass and plants; giving them the pearly sparkle which is spread as far as I can see. Blameless blue sky looking over my head like it's telling me to come for these walks more often. ❤
    ©ani_sharma

  • poetviviyanniki 38w

    --- Gratitude. Grounded - peaceful heart.

    --- Keep thriving through with studies! Nature, outside (off the screen) experiences and work ethic that highlighes your smile within!!! Respect; care. Naturally thrives with unity.
    Team plays. Surrounding self with loved ones - family. Community. Reflects full! Revolves well... Vivian viviyanniki

  • poetviviyanniki 38w

    --- Gratitude. Grounded - peaceful heart... Keep thriving through with studies! Nature, outside (off the screen) experiences and work ethic that highlighes your smile within!!! Respect; care... Naturally thrives with unity.
    Team plays. Surrounding self with loved ones - family. Community. Reflects full! Revolves well... Vivian ©poetviviyanniki

  • poukii 40w

    Come,
    let us go back to the village,
    to the place of ultimate happiness,
    to the place where our
    halcyon memories reside,
    to defogg our brain filled
    with dark thunderous thoughts,
    to cleanse the bronchioles of our lungs
    filled with toxic poisonous gas,
    to purify our evil-eyed aura,
    to break ourselves from this
    mundane vicious cycle of life.

    Come,
    let us go back to the place,
    where roads are filled with
    soft fine sand particles,
    and not with plastic filled tar.
    where long branched leaves of
    coconut trees gently flap to welcome us,
    and not the busy congested roads.
    where birds are no longer kept in aviary;
    they fly high with the spirit of freedom.
    where the balagan heavy sirens from factories,
    no longer burst the sensitive drums of ears.
    where people are no longer insouciant,
    rather are tribes having hearts
    filled with viridity and love.

    Come,
    let us go back to the place,
    You will be amazed to see,
    how they are no longer as greedy
    city flakes living with a mirk hope of future,
    rather are shoshin folks,
    who consider nature as their mother,
    who hug the trees to protect them,
    from being cutted by enchrochers.
    who kisses the soil,and walk barefoot,
    without getting their feets cracked easily.
    who worships their cattles as a goddess,
    drinks their milk as 'honeydew'.
    who knows every small changes in surroundings,
    and can predict climate without the help of,
    any 'so called' modern equipments.
    who are more healthier,
    due to their harmonious way of living,
    and live longer lives.

    Come,
    let us go back to the fields of joy,
    where streams of flowing water greets us,
    whose each drop is as pure as crystalline solid.
    where paddy dances in the gentle breeze,
    on the either sides of brown mudded narrow path.
    where wildflowers nods their heads slowly
    in the outskirts of meadows.
    where statutes made of straw pale ward off,
    the wild birds coming to eat the grains.

    Come,
    let us go back to the place,
    where we feel ourselves as humans again,
    rather than machines in a body,
    that works when a key is switched on.

    Come,
    let us run away..
    let us run away..
    from here.
    ©poukii

  • iamsmvk 77w

    Old Women's Song

    On the darkest day of the month
    after the sun disappears into west
    hide your babies, O women of the valley!

    When the strangers from the mountains
    come looking for the children in your nest
    keep vigil, O men of the valley!

    Till the light spreads around the village
    and the fathers return home to rest
    make no noise, O children of the valley!

    Sang the Old women of the valley. 
    ©iamsmvk

  • ravi2_0 78w

    #Small Town Diary

    (2)लाचारी
    तुम गए English Medium Convent,
    हमे मिला हिंदी माध्यम सरकारी।
    राजनीति के चक्कर में,
    चढ़ गई बली हमारी।।
    ©ravi2_0

  • tanmay_tym 91w

    वो मेरा मिट्टी का घर
    मेरे आंगन की चारपाई
    वो पीपल का पेड़
    फिर चलती पुरवाई

    वो फ़ूलों का बगिचा
    और लह-लहाते खेत
    वो मिट्टी की क्यारी
    फिर नदी की रेत

    वो कुए का पानी
    मिट्टी की सुराही
    पीता था आ कर
    वो चलता हुआ राही

    वो गावँ के मेले
    सावन के झूले
    वो सर्बत का गोला
    और चाट के ठेले

    याद करता हूँ अब भी
    उस मिट्टी के घर को
    उस प्यारे सफर को
    उस मीठी डगर को
    ©tanmay_ytm


    #YTM #TYM
    #poems #poetry #mieakee #writers #villagelife #poets #life #love @writersnetwork @mirakee @poetrydelivery

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    मिट्टी का घर

    ©tanmay_ytm

  • tanmay_tym 91w

    वो दिन थे सुहाने
    जब हम थे दीवाने
    सुबह सुहानी
    साम रंगीन थी
    कदमों में आश्माँ
    सर पर जमीन थी
    डगमगाते थे कदम
    ज़िंदगी हसीन थी
    साथ तुम होते थे
    मन होता था चंचल
    देख तुमको घड़ी भर
    दिल में होती थी हलचल
    पर अब तुम नही
    आँखे मेरी नम है
    खामोशियां हैं लफ्जों में
    दिल में धड़कने कम है
    लौट आओ मेरे यार
    दे दो वही पहला सा प्यार
    ©tanmay_ytm



    #YTM #TYM
    #poems #poetry #mieakee #writers #villagelife #poets #life #love @writersnetwork @mirakee @poetrydelivery

    Read More

    वो दिन

    ©tanmay_ytm

  • shackledthoughtsexpressivepen 93w

    #villagelife #timetravel
    #nature

    RURAL RHAPSODY
    Part one:Misty mornings!��

    The day started with the natural alarm of the rooster's crowing waking me up.
    As I opened my eyes,I got to witness what felt like out of a folklore,the soft morning gusts touching my skin harbouring gentle mists,crisp and chilly.

    As I peeked from the parapet of the terrace of our tiny house,I could feel all my senses uniting to make my experience of the rejuvenating morning,out of this world.
    The fragrance of burning wooden stoves,cow dung and fresh hay to feed the cattle added beauty to the landscape.

    Far away in the distance, through the clouds of fog,
    I could feel the freshness of the lush green paddy fields, guarded by skyscraping toddy palms and coconut trees,amidst which the sun slowly came up the horizon.

    Men milking cattle and women making intricate rangolis on their verandahs on the canvases adorned with cow dung and water depicting the beautiful routine of the countryside.

    The mellifluous devotional songs from a distant temple along with the sweeping sounds of the broomsticks and sound of water being sprinkled serenaded melodies of the village.

    People washing their cattle and clothes in the village brook was a heartwarming sight.
    Farming had already started to take place with bullocks ploughing the agricultural farms.

    Women could be seen carrying pots of water on their heads walking towards the village from the streams of river Godavari.

    As I went down from the terrace,I could see all my family being engaged in some daily chore or the other.
    As I was brushing my teeth with a neem twig,I could smell the fresh idlis being steamed and the shampoo being made from soapnut kernels.
    Aunts offering prayers to the tulsi plant and uncles plucking coconuts for us as we glared from below the pantile roofs!

    It was a retreat for my heart far away from the hustle and bustle of the urban scape.The vistas of the village made me feel like I were travelling back in time into a pure haven away from polluted cities!

    Read More

    Rural rhapsody!
    Part one: Misty mornings


    ©shackledthoughtsexpressivepen

  • ashishtiwari__ 93w

    एक नयी सुबह ,एक नया सवेरा।
    ये धरती और ये अंबर मेरा।
    ये पंछी, ये पनघट गेहरा,चलती नदी सुन क्या केह रहा।
    ###***###
    बगिया मे है आमो की डलीया,हर तरफ खेलती फुलो की कलिया।
    खेतो मे सेहराते गेहू,अपनी धुन मे क्या गाते ये सुन।
    ###***###
    लीपे आंगन की खुश्बू मे,जैसे सारा घर लिपटा हो शिन्दूर मे।
    धीमे आंच का वो चूल्हा,जिसमे पकता है सोना।
    खिचड़ी का वह स्वाद अजब है,माँ के हाथो का वो प्यार अलग है।
    ©ashishtiwari__

  • sirji_writer 112w

    मेरा गांव

    यहां सूरज की सुबह है होती
    तारों की है होती रात
    चांद यहां बनकर मामा
    बच्चों से है करता बात
    शहरों के ऊंचे छत से अच्छा
    पेड़ों की ठंडी छांव है
    यहां एकता एक है होती
    कुछ ऐसा मेरा गांव है
    ©sir_ji_

  • creative_chanchal 137w

    यादों के झरोखे

    वक़्त गुज़रते देर नहीं लगती
    वक़्त के साथ बहुत कुछ बदल जाता है
    7 सालों में रास्ते बदल गये
    रास्तों के किनारे बदल गये
    नहीं बदला वह यह गाँव और इस गाँव की जमीन से जुड़े लोग ,बचपन से जुड़ा लगाव, प्यार और अपनापन !
    ©creative_chanchal

  • ankahejajbat 137w

    #याद

    "शहर की रोशनी आखों में बहुत चुभती हैं"..
    कभी-कभी इसी ख़्याल के साथ,
    मैं भूले गाँव को याद कर लेता हूँ।
    ©ankahejajbat

  • shauk_syahi_ka 143w

    तू शहर है , मैं गाँव हूँ
    तू शहर की तेज धूप मैं पेड़ो की शीतल छांव हूँ ।
    तू शहर है मैं गाँव हूँ ।।
    हर कोई तुम्हारी ओर बढ़ रहा है , मुझसे छूट कर ,
    जैसे तू तट है मै नाव हूँ
    नही हो सकता हमारा मिलन कभी क्योंकि
    तू शहर है मैं गाँव हूँ ।।
    ©vaibhavbisariya

  • divyani_datta 160w

    A village retreat.

    Stretching beyond the infinite horizon,
    A balm for the eyes, as far as they can see
    Golden harvest of corns swaying to the beats of the wind,
    My village fields are waiting for me.

    Free embraces at every turn,
    That's the road to my village home,
    Rustic, worn out and a bit too old maybe,
    But very much my own.


    Do not mind the sharp tongues of some village folks,
    They have lived the pages of history.
    Their stories would become a part of your being,
    How so soon?
    You could never solve the mystery.

    Always ready to extend a hand of help,
    They are the people of my village home,
    Rustic, worn out and a bit too old maybe,
    But very much my own.


    Where the monsoon shower soaks your soul,
    Moist soil emitting fragrant elixir,
    The homely winter chills to usher you home,
    Warmth of the summer sun bringing in hope and cheer.

    Forever a wonder, the interlapping of the emotions,
    These are the seasons I have experienced in my village home,
    Rustic, worn out and a bit too old maybe,
    But very much my own.


    It's been long since I have met my people,
    It's been long since I have travelled the roads,
    It's been long since I have inhaled the fresh air,
    And let my senses be numbed by the burn of nostalgic melancholy chords.

    As I sit away in this bustling city,
    My quaint village life calls me home,
    Rustic, worn out and a bit too old maybe,
    But very much my own.
    ©divyani_datta

  • pradeep_krishnan 182w

    சாணம் தான்
    வாசல் தினம் குடிக்கும் பானம்
    கிருமியை கொல்ல தொடுக்கும் பானம்

    இங்கே
    மண்ணை நம்பி ஓடும் வர்த்தகபோக்கு
    திண்ணை தான் ஒரே பொழுதுபோக்கு

    வீடுதோறும் பிள்ளை இருக்கும்
    மனித வடிவில் ஒன்று
    மாடு வடிவில் ஒன்று

    ஊர் முழுக்க உலா போக
    உள்ளம் நாடும் மிதிவண்டி
    உள்ளதோ நுங்குவண்டி
    ©ck_pradeep

  • the_lanky_girl 209w

    VillageNights

    What is so good to spend a night in a village?
    Well you'll see..
    the fresh air that takes the breathe away,
    the bright moon that shows the glint of
    light &
    the stars that twinkle like diamonds in the
    sky. More to all_
    we'll sit in a bunch to dine,
    we'll all laugh togather &
    we'll absolutely have time for each other!!
    ©thelankygirl