Rosmin Elsa Mohan
Biography of Rosmin Elsa Mohan
Basically, I am a post graduate in Pure Physics and am now doing my research in nonlinear dynamics.
I enjoy silence and the woods.
I am passionate about love and all things beautiful.
I hate opportunists.
Writing gives me a personal aura.
I love to appreciate people, especially if its something which i lack.
I love Physics, the more i read about it, the more I am confused.. but that's whats its all about! !
I love traveling, every travel has highlighted the Me within me..
I believe in a higher power, but am too small to talk about religion.
I think that's it.. (for now! !)
Rosmin Elsa Mohan's Works:
Rosmin Elsa Mohan Poems
I once dreamt of an open field, The bareness of which alone did shield, A shadow so frail, in a shadow as such Silence.
' Diya '
There were these times of my life, when things forever went wrong! . .
** December **
December. She never had been so easy to endure, The hardest part of her, am not just sure.
Life' S Not All A Bed Of Roses!
''When loneliness becomes your forbidden partner, and Trouble knocks and shoots up at the door, of a heart about to crush and wither, with sorrows built up over and more.
Who Am I?
I thought I was a son My life, when had begun I thought I was the one When I knew I’d but won
I loved candles. Now I know why. The only sound I could hear was my own heart beat. The morning seemed no longer bright. For a fact, Room No.903, commonly known as the ICCU at AIIMS, had no windows. Morning and nights equally smelled of antiseptic. I had started to forget the smell of my skin. The needle that pierced the epidermal tissues offered no sensation after all. The insanity of the entire room as though reflected on me, as I had started to become a vegetable.
The main star of my story, rather the heroine is Tiffany. Tiffany was beautiful. When kids saw Tiffany, they would fight for her. When elders saw Tiffany, they were reminded of their kids, and when the youth saw Tiffany, it made them nostalgic. Yes! Tiffany was a beauty, but more than that, Tiffany was a tiffin box.
A Toast To Poetry
Streams that flow in ink and out Rampant emotions to wilt yet sprout The ode to being the root for change In a world buried, so deadly estrange.
The Shore’s But A Sea Apart!
The lonely blue kissed the sea The sea herself bathed in blue It seemed the blue kissed the blue In the air, I felt it too.
On a speck a moment ticks Across dials that decorate Pinpoints of fate Shadows move across fields in parts
Crossing The Bridge
The night seemed long I wished I could fly Back in time Again to the beginning
I looked in the mirror. Two eyes stared back. One was mine, the other… It had been a long night, or did it seem so?
Why … Why Not?
The Why leads to the Why not Answers to, desperately sought. The nature, the source, the outcome One's prejudice to sulk wholesome.
I saw them fly high. Red, green, turquoise and in a rarest blend of living colours. As a kid they were my best companions. I used to talk to them. They did answer too. Wordless conversations that grew stronger with the breeze.
I once dreamt of an open field,
The bareness of which alone did shield,
A shadow so frail, in a shadow as such
I thought as much.
I felt it again on my bed at night
Darkness; through which I saw the light
Silence - to feel; and to feel so weak,