My Debut Book-HIRAETH

It always seems impossible until it’s done!


I’M SO EXCITED TO ANNOUNCE I WROTE A BOOK!!!! A POETRY BOOK!

And it is available on various e-commerce platforms


I’ve been writing this for a few months now, unsure at first, if I even wanted it to be printed.
But if 2020 taught me anything at all, it was to listen to the nudging of my heart and chase my dreams, no matter how absurd they may sound to anyone else.

So here it is -my first ever self-published book Hiraeth.
A book of poetic verses which is split into 3 sections- Her world, Ephemeral and Twin Flames.


The poems compiled in the book capture the different nuances of love. This book and every word, every line that I poured out of my heart, putting it out into the world, is a gift to myself more than anything else.

Currently available on Amazon India
https://lnkd.in/eFs7eet

and on Notion Press
https://lnkd.in/ecUpXms

The link for international e-commerce sites and kindle version will be shared shortly.

Thank you and looking forward to your support.

-Madhavi

Children Chapter IV Khalil Gibran

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This poem by Khalil Gibran  found a place in my heart ever since I read it .

It resonates with times of today, maybe even more than when it was first written. Yet the expectations parents have from the children doesn’t follow any time line. It has always been demanding. This poem particularly the line ‘ you may give them your love but not your thoughts’ explains explicitly how every generation before us has had the same dilemma  when bringing up their offspring

 

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom said, “Speak to us of Children.”
And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer’s hand be for gladness;
For even as he loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable.

 

Madhavi