Serendipity 18

I Miss You I miss you Like the deserts miss the rain Your warm embrace is something from which I cannot abstain Reveling in your presence is all that goes on in my brain I crave your tender kisses, as sweet as champagne Thoughts of you these days are all that I can entertain Let the entirety of high society regard me with utter disdain - My passion for you in words I cannot explain True love being a thing I cannot feign So in my life I want you to forever remain Because your absence is that absolute bitter thorn Through which I cannot fathom to sustain. Source: thinktheology.co.uk

Élysées by the Pond I was in Élysées, sitting by the pond wondering how long it'd be before you came along In the reflection I saw a silhouette anon of a sourire of the highest celestial form and then I realised -  I loved you the first time, I loved you the last time yo soy la princesa, tu eres mi white knight. by Mehma Bagga Source: peakpx.com

Au clair grandiose de la lune Au clair grandiose de la lune, Qui dans le ciel vole comme la blanche fragile d’une plume: En descendant tu sembles un déballage d’une lumière que l’on allume, Remuée dans l’air comme des averses de l’écume; Ces averses élèvent la supercherie des brumes Dans lesquelles sont ombrées les scènes de mes fortunes. Je souhaiterais te vénérer comme Claude t’a rendu sur la tribune, Au clair grandiose de la lune. par Mehma Bagga Source: treehugger.com via Jakkapan Jabjainai / Gett Images

Reveries of Erotica Reciprocate my ardent love Wearing heart on sleeve, I proffer you a sole white dove Come hither, venerated; Render your inner adulation for me regenerated. The unrestrained coupling of lips to lips, eyes to eyes, soul to soul Insinuate our wallowing in to love making, intense and whole Your bare anatomy on my voluptuousness These seductive lips embracing your merciful sinuousness Your Herculean yet benign fingers stroking the waterfall of the tendrils of my hair My tender subdued lips concluding, siphoning yours till you can no longer bear You must have me all at once, yet relish the subtle taste Not one moment, not one instance, we'd let go to consummate waste. So come hither, love, let's indulge in a conjoining for the ages Let's ignite the passion of Gods and Kings and all their fiery rages. Source: Frederick Goodall's Passionate Encounter via wikipedia.org  

A love letter to Lily Collins Lily, Lily -  A warm English rose in but a world so chilly On the silver screen oft portrays a damsel quirky and frilly Her chocolate box appeal being her sole heel Achille. A demeanour that brings to mind “it’s always sunny in Philly”  Possessing an endearing brow that renders us all so silly Promenading the streets of Paris searching du boulot in lace Chantilly Perching herself au bord de Fontaine des Mers oh so tranquilly  Lost in thought over the resplendence of a city that’s celebrated for a dilly For a doe-eyed movie star of the ‘50s, your entity is but a simile. Source: timesofindia.indiatimes.com

Garden Musings of a Romantic The tender chimes of the wind sifting through the feeble leaves remind me of your tender caress, Adoring you from afar is such a murderous chore I must indeed confess. Hitherto, I felt I could fly, presumed I could touch the empyrean sky, Still your mild but seasoned aphorisms got to my wretched heart - oh my! The empathising trees, the wispy grass, the inebriating chirping of the Seven Sisters  The clementine cooing of the morning birds, the rays of the sun caressing my subdued skin - all remind me of the resister Of love and all the fortuitousness it brings  Retort to me, worshipped - could we wallow in but a harmless fling? Mille tendresse, M Picture Credits: Tbradford / photos.com by Getty Images

J'ai besoin de ton amour J'ai besoin de ton amour. C'est assis sur mon dos comme des poids-lourds - C'est un dommage que tu ne m'aimes pas comme je t'adore; Hélas! Je sentais que notre rapport - C'était un récit écrit par les étoiles bénévoles, Tous nos bavardages résultaient en désaccord, Toutes nos interférences dans des sages paraboles Ça me faisait quelle douleur au coeur misérable: Tes intentions, tes vœux, ta conduite - tout indéchiffrable. Dis-moi - qu'est-ce que ça voulait dire - Notre amitié n'est pas dans le destin écrit? par Mehma Bagga Picture Credits: Anne Dirkse // www.annedirkse.com via forbes.com

Contritions of an Inebriated Being Here comes the invigorating sea breeze. You and I, holding hands, wishing times were different, wishing we could go back to it all, wishing we could live for all eternity. But this incubus of a malady threatens to jeopardise everything, threatens to take our love away. But can love ever truly be taken away - if it is eternal, perennial and indestructible?  The scent of your presence inebriates my captivated being: Your eyes, your smile, your flesh - all blatantly decreeing That I am yours and belong to but you and you alone, Entirely yours - blood, flesh and quivering bone. Love is all I live for; love is all my essence. Your lips, your hair, all of you - but an example of celestial quintessence. So love me forevermore and I'll put you on a towering pedestal Not apprising you of my adoration - hereafter the incessant regrettable. Picture credits: pinterest.com

Longings for Leonardo  Leonardo il bellissimo, love of our lives, It is but such a bitter heart-rending strife - Witnessing you flip over these beguiling damsels galore; Not gracing ourselves with your residence - such a chore. La vita can be remorseless and crafty and volatile; She can be but a callous and spiteful domicile To us who worship at your celestial feet - Can our adoration for you never turn concrete? Leonardo il bellissimo, with eyes of ocean blue Partaking in you all around, to the magazines we are glued. Leering and gawping at your locks of hair divine; Tell us our dearest - will our fates ever intertwine? by Harmehma Bagga Picture Credits: interviewmagazine.com

Salvatore II You broke my heart into a million pieces. Tell me - was I merely one of your blatant caprices? Salvatore, a heartless heedless cacciatore, Will never be able to give himself in to chaste amore. Tell me - what pleasure using me for your vagaries bestowed on you? Your compelling manners an obstruction to my receiving even a single clue - Anon, I comprehended you were in it for your flagrant voyeurism  Did you receive reparation in causing this excruciating fire of an aneurysm? Salvatore, the cacciatore - there he flees from love in his vagabond ways. Salvatore, the cacciatore - there he leaves signorinas with hearts tattered, sans trace. by Harmehma Bagga Picture credits: maicar.com via Google Images  

Inspired by one of my favourite poems by Lana del Rey, here's a little one I wrote to reflect my innermost musings. Hope you enjoy Mille tendresse, M  What Happened When I Found You In Zimmerman with strawberry platters strewn across the room, I wait for you, my love, with earnest exasperation under the lustrous full moon. Perfect petals may punctuate the fabrics yellow blue - But all I can see nowadays is tinted with the coolest shades of you. Seraphic love - my wretched heart yearns for your warmest embrace, The regalia adorning your love fabricated in but the softest chantilly lace. My life is sweet like champagne now, only wonderings of you My inward thoughts have changed now, my voice is higher - now I'm in love with you. In but the celestial stars awaits a future pilgrimage to Malibu,  I'm ecstatic - besides waiting for my love, there's nothing much else that I can do. by Mehma Bagga Picture Credits: jakkapan/123rf.com via Google Images

Summer Is Here The sweet taste of the fruits of reconciliation, After but ages of an all too painful situation, Has thrust me up high amongst the seraphic clouds - At this instant, my sheer happiness knows no bounds. Ecstatic, I'd like to scream irrationally loud - "Love - how you restore all my exhilaration and vigour!". I pray this amity isn't as short-lived as a burning cigar. Summer is here - All around I can witness prepossessing flecks of light; I can take in the Herculean burble of the Niagara in all its might. Rainbows created with said flecks and said burble - Beauty so sublime can't be described in terms verbal. Deer are put to prancing, Leaves are rendered dancing In the gentle winds of the season: I shall love you, my Salvatore, forever more, sans reason. by Harmehma Bagga Picture Credits: wallmonkeys.com via Google Images

The Appeasing of an Emotionally Volatile Poet Heartache - my old friend When will this series of utter tribulations end? I feel as though I'm standing at the edge of a cliff looking down Wondering whether it's worth to go on anymore because all I feel like is a clown Who's been crowned the head of the circus  Who simply amuses those around sans any real purpose. Am I never to find affection and tenderness in all this world gigantic? Will I have to strive yet again to make my heart stone-coldly titanic? Or shall you one day, recompense me with a love so genuine and indestructible With a counterpart whose soul neither mortal nor immortal can render corruptible? Then all at once, Liz is on Top of the World - Feeling like she's reached a state of tranquil unperturbed; Feeling as free and as unfettered as a midget of a bird; Feeling like nothing ever could go wrong as long as she's heard. Dearest Lizzy -  don't you tend to feel oh so dizzy At as high an altitude, amo

Séréna Séréna -  où est-ce que tu es partie, comme le vent de l'été qui fait la magie?  En portant de l'air nonchalant, Tu y vas pour nous rendre inconscients  de vénérer tes cheveux blonds divins, et tes lèvres qui nous rappellent de vin,  et tes yeux comme l'océan dans lesquels on se noie, et ton esprit duquel on voulait s'emparer en tapinois. Est-ce que tu as compris la magnificence de ta balade? Dis-nous, comment peut-on faire de l'escapade  de ta séduction qui nous tétanise? C'est cela qui nous remplit de bêtises. Tout le monde est en extase grâce à tes charmes, Ta naïveté qui nous fait du tout au tout désarmes. Alors c'est quoi cette histoire? Tu nous lâches seuls, ton auditoire? Dis-moi, chérie - où est-ce que tu es partie comme le vent de l'été qui fait la magie? by Harmehma Bagga Picture credits: wikipedia.org

Borderline II (or The Longings of a Fallen Angel) Oh the bitter tastes of rejection Sting so sorely in the heart sans objection. "Am I completely unloveable?!", I ponder over this interjection; "Shall I never be able to make any real progression? And learn how to love myself just for me And just for once ultimately just be free From these sensations from whom I'd like to flee." Dear Lord, that is my heart's only earnest plea - So give me the strength to carry on; Give me the patience needed to be strong; Give me the wisdom to admit when I am wrong; Said sensations please do not prolong. As I simply can't seem to bear it anymore. For now, life seems filled with melancholy galore. Oh Lord, please make me like how I was before -  Steadfast and resilient and wise to the core. by Harmehma Bagga Picture Credits: wallpaperacces.com via Google Images

Salvatore Salvatore, ciao amore - How you shot through my heart like a cacciatore: Spirited, you made me feel on top of the world; Made me perceive that I was always the only girl That you could unfalteringly ever only love.  You old-fashionedly called me your dearest "turtle dove". And when you kissed my hand for the first time, sparks flew. I had thought over time our celestine love only grew, But I was sorely mistaken you see - For all you wanted was just pure intimacy; And like a fool I loved you with all my being - Now I see that slowly you have been fleeing Away from the devotion and adherence I required. You said one day to “worship at my feet" you keenly aspired. Alas, all of the attempts and ventures were but in vain  Because you ended up causing me a great deal of pain. Tell me cacciatore - will u still go on with your twisted ways To hunt innocent naïve girls like myself throughout all your days? by Harmehma Bagga Picture Credits: wikiped

  I was Italian in a Past Life I was Italian in a past life  So much that right now it's an absolute strife Not to go to my beloved Roma and live la dolce vita Perché vivo la vita come voglio viverla. Undeterred, I hear the gentle sounds of the Fontana di Trevi Oh how I long to be amongst the animated and effervescent bevy Of individuals who'd teach me: "Il dolce far niente" -  People who feel like they're my long lost parente. Once in Roma, I shall indulge myself in scrumptious arancini, Devour all the splendid handiwork of brilliant Federico Fellini; Roaming on the cobbled streets, I'll relish my first ever taste of gelato; I shall witness the allure of the grand operas' staccato. In sweet Roma, tutti freeheartedly embrace. The longing for this setting is my heart's only true case -  Of at long last getting through to my beloved Roma Of at long last, enriching all my yearning soma. Mille tendresse, M by Harmehma Bagga

Adam I fell irrevocably in love with you the first time I saw you on Library Road. Perhaps you felt it was infatuation, but for me, it was invariably something more - So bitter was the Midlands wind that day that it had stunned me absolutely cold. Then out of the blue, coming towards me, I witnessed this divine creature that seraphically glowed. How all the feelings my poor heart couldn't even comprehend out of me flowed. The second you saw me staring at you that way you should have unequivocally known That from that very moment my heart belonged only to you and to none else anymore. You see, I've loved you for a thousand years and I shall love you for a thousand more: But tell me one thing, dearest, will my poor heart ever be able to restore The assuring warmth it felt in your presence - have i lost it forever more? In your eyes, lies the key to my absolute commiseration; In your lips, lies the sweet familiarity of alliteration. In your smile, lies the reassuring ardour that i

Borderline Nothing but anguish lives in this soul: Tell me, invincible one, will you never let me reach my goals? Will you not consider leaving me intact and whole? Just once, unescorted, let me go on a stroll? I dread, unflinching one, on my health, yet again, you will take a toll Now I feel helplessly confined as though tethered to a pole I hope you won't mar what I think is my written dole, Wouldn't "Au revoir, Auf wiedersehen" you'd like to be told? Why does this heartache on me have such a hold? Makes me perceive I'll never be able to get to the road That I'd like to follow on with all my bold, To set foot on the land of perpetual joy and gold. by Harmehma Bagga Picture credits: cbn.com via Google Images

Movie Review: To Kill a Mockingbird (1962) Rating: ★★★★ 1/2 "Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird." Picture credits: Universal Pictures via forbes.com This screen adaptation of the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel is a drama that is one for the ages. The movie won Gregory Peck an Oscar for his brilliant and captivating performance as Atticus Finch, a Southern lawyer who defends a black man accused of rape during the Great Depression. The manner in which the movie depicts a time and place and above all a mood, makes it an enduring paragon of vintage cinema.  Set in a dusty Southern town, the plot revolves around the events following a white woman accusing a black man of rape. Despite the man's clear cut innocence, the outcome of the trial is such a foregone conclusion that no lawyer will step forward to defend him except the town's most distinguished citizen. His compassionate defence costs Atticus his r

Dear Dorothy -  You cast a magic spell on me, With your endearing innocuousness, Which only further stirred your incongruousness  To the plot you formed a vital part of: You had no clue of what you'd be facing thereof Once you landed into jolly Munchkin-land, Wise beyond your years, you're the antonym of Peter Pan. Promenading through the poppy fields in your silver shoes, You would've preferred to stay in Kansas if you'd have gotten to choose. Yet you braved it out on the Yellow Brick Road, Such formidable courage for a lass of eight you showed. So blessed am I to have been able to attend The adventures of Dorothea, whom I deem an inspiration, besides indispensable friend. by Harmehma Bagga Picture credits: Shuttershock via footwearnews.com

 My Rebirth in Yoga After years of striving to achieve a state of serenity whilst practising pranayama, I have finally just managed to execute that which I was wrestling the world with: I am so excited to be on this new path that I have recently hit with breathing and meditation.  I could feel it today - the sensation of the cool ocean breeze stroking my then stress-drenched face. It felt like I was experiencing something of the divine - even now it seems like this had to have been some form of coaxing witchcraft! What can I say - the feeling was "transcendental on another level". Now, I just want to experience more and more of it. As a person who struggles with general anxiety disorder, it used to be next to impossible not to get engaged in the flow of thoughts traversing my brain. I would barely be able to sit with my eyes closed for more than a minute, however, merely the resolution that I shall be doing yoga from now on for my own wellbeing and not because I HAD to do it

Audrey, my Dearest Miss Golightly - "I must protest." The way you self adorn is another test - For the wannabes who'd like to epitomise you  Have not but one single clue, For the delicate demeanour you embody, Renders us copycats all incredibly shoddy. The echoes of your studied sophistication reverberate in society. Tell me, my beloved - how can we assimilate said graces with propriety? Your smile, the eyes, that electric fringe of hair, The style, the walk, the allure are beyond compare. None in this world can match up to your tasteful poise; The fanbase, in my opinion, covetously employs Calculated methods to emulate your beguiling appeal The enigma of which shall never truly be revealed To those of us who venerate at your gossamer feet, For you render all your enactors enthrallingly obsolete. by Harmehma Bagga Picture credits: britannica.com via Google Images

Love - have I found you yet again ? Love - have I found you yet again ? Will you stay with me this time or will I have to go searching for you around the bend? Will you stay, just this once and make me feel in love compelled [L-O-V-E can never truly be misspelled] To squander away the hours in search of idle bliss - What even is the sheer meaning of this? Has my neediness no definite end? Will my heart, from the clouds, finally descend? Does in a mountain somewhere lie the elixir To quench my thirst of this voleur of vigour? See this is why I lucidly choose to isolate - To avoid creating a sort of infatuation you cannot contemplate. We dance and prance around the fountain of love Whist He laughs, the one who watches us from above. by Harmehma Bagga Picture Credits: unsplash.com via Google Images

Here's a little rhyme I composed in the 10 minutes I just had free from work. It's inspired by one of my favourite movies Black Swan and the ABBA song "Nina, Pretty Ballerina". Hope you enjoy ♡ Mille tendresse, M Nina Nina - there she goes in her ballet shoes Whirling away with a bit of sad news. "Am I not good enough?", she asks "In the limelight will I too never be able to bask?" Nina - there she goes in her ballet shoes, Just like a cygne  noir  - the bearer of sad news So heart-rending would be her fate  No mortal would have been able to contemplate. Nina - there she goes in her ballet shoes, With her dainty feet against her, never getting over the blues. Nina - there she goes the 'pretty ballerina' Away from high society into paradiso, the bellissima. by Harmehma Bagga Picture credits: filmcolossus.com via Google Images

A Love Unrequited  Oh the sting of a love unrequited,  wounds like no other -  Like a poison dart thrushed across the chest,  like the sting of a serpent blaring from the fires of hell,  like a broken piece of glass stepped on while dancing,  like a paper cut from a book that rendered you romancing.  Like Hellfire devouring the heart of but a naïve soul. like when harrowingly enters the eye that little bit of indelicate kohl. Life has its lessons and said lessons maketh man Oh lord - when will I recognise that weather this storm, I can If but only I put to use said lessons to rouse my amour-propre, to wield my sword against these Horsemen of the Apocalypse quatre. Dearest one - I pray one day you shall discern "the greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return".   by Mehma Bagga Picture Credits: distribution.arte.tv via Google Images

 Movie Review: War and Peace (1956) Rating: ⭑⭑⭑ 1/2 Picture Credits: film forum.org via Google Images This particular rendition of Leo Tolstoy's magnum opus is a must watch for all fans of history - it follows the intertwined fates of three aristocratic families during Napoleon Bonaparte's invasion of Russia in the War of 1812. The narrative broadly revolves around the lives and entanglements of the three main characters during this time -  Natasha Rostova (Audrey Hepburn), Pierre Bezukhov (Henry Fonda) and Prince Andrei Bolkonsky (Mel Ferrer).  Realised by Oscar-nominated director, King Vidor, the epic film is surely a feast for the eyes with its array of realistic and intricate costumes created by Marie De Matteis, which are very well-researched and congruous to the setting in which the movie takes place in. A fictionalised retelling of the events that forced Napoleon to throw in the towel in his conquest of Imperial Russia, the film received Academy Award nominations for Bes

 My love affair I distinctly remember the touch of the keys brushing against my fingers, the first time I ever traced the grooves of a grand piano. It was like love at "first touch". I then knew instantly that I had found my other half. Inspired by my evergreen love for the instrument, here's my first ever poem that I've written. Hope you enjoy ♡ Mille tendresse, M To me, the touch of the piano feels like the cool breeze on a summer day,  The yearned-for touch of a lover who stays but far away. Like a spring-bloomed rose bud just born Like the feel of a favourite sweater casually worn. Dear love - how you render me so soothed  Like the sensation of a waterfall suffused with colours of the jolly rainbow in its insignia like a shrub adorned with the most beautiful kinds of zinnia. The souvenirs of all the years passed with you haunt me Of this I vow I'd never like to be free. Let's hope our love affair continues for all eternity, You, me and the music - travelli

Movie Review: High Society (1956) Rating: ★★★            Picture credits: Snap/Shuttershock via tatler.com This delightful comedy musical is most conspicuously an adaptation of 1940's The Philadelphia Story and a laudable one at that. The narrative revolves around socialite Tracy Lord as she struggles over her infatuation for three different men just before the day of her wedding, one of them being her ex-husband. Needless to say, the three men return her affections on account of her timeless beauty, charm and spontaneous wit - Tracy Lord being portrayed by the alluring and beguiling Grace Kelly herself. The film features a stellar performance from Bing Crosby as ex-husband C.K. Dexter Haven, with this particular film comprising some of his best vocal chops to date. The reporter who is supposed to chronicle Tracy's wedding to her second husband is played by none other than Ol' Blue Eyes himself. Frank Sinatra delivers a "swell" performance as reporter Mike Connor,