They said love is power
The divine reason to be alive
And all that could be done
Should be done to perpetuate it
They delved into instances
How a drop- consistent
Could even change a stone
Could create a hole
And yet, when it came to men
They did not realise the pain
Hopelessness; gloom
The welts from holding a rope too long
What should one choose
And how?
The joy – return of beloved
The freedom – letting go of the rope!


Feeling full, impatient
Reasons unknown, concealed
Regrets, flashbacks
Sometimes a flood,
Others just a dull ache
In clutches, claws unknown
Surrendered, lost
All ambers turned to soot
We killed ourselves inside!

I Kept Wondering

Living beyond caring
on the turf-magical
right, wrong didn’t exist
and I kept wondering

Is this they call free
unaffected by boundaries;
by frameworks of society
I kept wondering

Not thinking for a moment
life’s secret of contentment?
I kept wondering

Should I, Shouldn’t I?
indulgence is costly
and where to
I kept wondering

In those moments of freedom
a life time happened
and when I look back,
I keep wondering!



When we talk about relations, of public dealings, we tend to expect. We expect people to be accommodating, or preferably perfect. Perfect not in literal sense but perfect as per our liking. My perfect might as well be disliked by all others.

But people don’t come as packages. They are no plastic models which we have to assemble. Where we can change or customise parts as per our liking. Choose the traits we like. Leave out the emotions we don’t want. If it were, life would have been easy.

But people and relations don’t work like that. They come as empty boxes rather than fully loaded packages. You have to put in your efforts to make everything work. To make these relations into what we want them to be. But who has that energy. And patience! I must be kidding.

We all are experts in expecting. Demanding things. Rights. Asking for adjustments and compromises. But how far do we flex to accommodate the other? How much do we compromise to make the other comfortable?

It is easy to ask for favours, adjustments, compromises. Equally difficult is to be the giver. The one who satisfies others’ needs. We all tend to be the asking hand. The one who needs but won’t bend for the other.

Rather than expecting perfect, compromises or whatever, we may as well work together to build a space equally comfortable.




We often think we should be sad. Or how it is sadness, grief that is a permanent feature of life.

As writers we are often told how it is grief that gives us the ability to write. How you have to put in your everything in your writing to make it good.

But we forget grief is not the only heartfelt emotion. Joy, happiness, surprise, and all other emotions are equally good. Whatever we feel through our heart is good enough to be put to words and presented.

If a writer, an author can completely feel an emotion, so can his readers.

Happiness is equally beautiful and rewarding!


He asked, “It has been years
things changed,
yet your gloom stuck

Answerless, Mum
He queried, “You must have had
Escape routes to happiness
Why not?”

I looked at a mirror
into eyes – clueless
What else had I missed
What all my armour tackled?

Protecting, I hid
A cocoon, my shield
no opportunities trespassed,
just a light knock

Afraid, I stood in
apprehensive of a new wound
and there I stuck
With all the melancholy I had.

A Dark Room

Rising urge…
Letting things go
Fear, floods, a thomping heart
Working of it all-
Fear as reigns
Terror, fright, helplessness
Oh! The pits of gloom
An occasional light,
Rays of hope
Frantic search of who I am
Sudden return of the night
How it turns me blind
Numb to pain- to this dark
As if some chains bound
Even the luxury of pain
And yet I couldn’t be restrained
Pointing fingers at destiny