Anita Bacha

Pressed against his body,

His breath smouldering her neck,

She felt his flower growing,




Then melting like sweet honey,

Wetting her wedding sari,

Leaving a broad stain,

And a sweet smell;

Souvenir of a first caress

In a hotel elevator .

Anita Bacha

Writer’s note: The honeysuckle is a sweet smelling flower that grows in bush in many parts of the world. The pink honeysuckle that we find in Japan is the symbol of the bond of love between husband and wife. It also symbolizes devotion, fidelity and generosity.

View original post


The Rose and the Fox

Anita Bacha

It was in the year 2011; I had a work session in Paris.
By sheer chance, I met a young German woman. Her name was Rose. She had every reason to bear such a lovely, adorable name. We shared many ‘likes’- FaceBook, writing, reading and Indian food. Over a hot and spicy vegetarian meal, she confided in me that she was in love with an Indian guy. Unfortunately, the feelings were not reciprocal. The Indian guy, she told me, was the fox in the tale of St. Exupery. This is how the story unfolds-
“Once, a fox came down a valley of roses;
He approached a rose and gently whispered to her –
You are the most beautiful rose in the world!
The rose replied – No, sir! You are mistaken!
We are all of equal beauty!
The fox, blinded with love, went on his knees and mumbled inaudibly –

View original post 172 more words


Anita Bacha

Through your eyes of sweet folly,

I found, on a summer holiday,

A wonderland!

A whirlpool of magical delights!

In the woods, birds ‘nests full with mint candies,

French nougat and jelly babies;

Hanging from the branches of the banyan tree,

Strands of spaghetti;

In the singing brook, enticing chocolate wafers!

When, at the seaside, you laughed heartily

Amused that the sand tickled your toes,

Wildly happy that the waves licked your bare skin

And, with bursting joy you yelled,

I discovered a man-child,

Yielding, warm, whimsical,

Aspiring to impossible dreams!

 You built castles on the wet sand

Sketched with seawater our portrait

 Ordering the sun not to set

Time to suspend its flight!

You weaved seaweeds in my hair

Bedecking seashells in the gray strands

Claiming that they were golden threads

That I was your queen,

The Queen of Arabian Nights!

At dusk, in the howling sea of Pereybere,

View original post 51 more words


Anita Bacha


Of your tree so mighty

I am a leaf so green and tiny

Neither an apple nor a fig

I hold on to a twig

In winter I shiver and I freeze

In summer I sway in the breeze

Drenched in torrential rain

I cry in grief and pain

Scalded in the burning sun

I shrivel and I shun

A creeper I long to mime

My arms enlacing you

Heavenly heights to climb

My soul enrobing you

Anita Bacha

Illustration/Artist/Francis Apied


View original post


Anita Bacha

Loving her anonymity,

Her blueness

Her blistering salty regurgitations

Her irresistible temptations

He dances naked on her waves

Swinging his slender waist

Rolling up and down

Surfing witlessly

In the morning light

Driving her out of her wits

The glistening tropical sea

Loving his audacity

His youthful feline beauty

Swells from within

Rises in a falcate to play with him

Diving together in her deepness

Rising to heavenly heights

In cheerful togetherness.

Anita Bacha

Please check out his blog http://www.oceanvibration.com

View original post