Rosmin Elsa Mohan

Rookie - 180 Points (21st December / New Delhi)

Rosmin Elsa Mohan Poems

1. The Counterpoint 8/5/2012
2. ' Arike '... So Close! 8/16/2012
3. The Mirror 10/5/2012
4. The Mask 10/5/2012
5. Pluralities 2/13/2013
6. The Three Phases... 2/13/2013
7. Staccato.. 3/20/2013
8. Beau... 4/18/2013
9. ' It Could Never Have Been Better... ' 8/18/2013
10. My Rain... 3/27/2014
11. Just Me... 5/23/2014
12. Cold 6/5/2014
13. Fish 6/24/2014
14. Rendezvous 9/5/2014
15. You, Me, We … 10/29/2014
16. Black & White 2/11/2015
17. Wings Of Light 8/6/2015
18. Cry 9/10/2015
19. Ripples Of Love 3/15/2016
20. Morning Bliss 3/19/2016
21. Being A Researcher... 5/25/2016
22. I See You 8/11/2016
23. Take Away 10/11/2013
24. It’s Life Indeed 8/20/2013
25. Dreams In Prussian Blue 1/23/2014
26. Balloons... 3/30/2012
27. Why … Why Not? 4/11/2012
28. Renewed Grounds 2/23/2012
29. Heaven... 2/27/2012
30. Crossing The Bridge 3/22/2012
31. Time 3/19/2012
32. The Shore’s But A Sea Apart! 2/6/2012
33. A Toast To Poetry 3/21/2012
34. Who Am I? 1/30/2012
35. Tiffin Tiffany 2/23/2012
36. Death... 1/23/2012
37. Life' S Not All A Bed Of Roses! 8/7/2011
38. ** December ** 12/14/2011
39. ' Diya ' 1/23/2012
40. Silence 1/10/2012
Best Poem of Rosmin Elsa Mohan

Silence

I once dreamt of an open field,
The bareness of which alone did shield,
A shadow so frail, in a shadow as such
Silence.
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,
Silence, I think I heard her speak.

The crowd through which I made my way,
Gave me a second to poise it through
Shouts around, though I felt them nay,
The Me within, in silence too.

The hours of solace so gifted in tune,
A language unworldly, (beyond the moon!)
To realize it ...

Read the full of Silence

Death...

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.

It was last Tuesday

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