I sit on a glass table
some coffee, music

Plethora of thoughts,
a hurricane

I sit, with a pen, open
ready to pen down

a story, a poem, or…
some kind of solace

All I could see, in front –
a blank sheet stained with tears!


We all come across posts trying to make us realise how blessed we are. How we should not whine because someone is deprived. How we should be content and satisfied and how the presence of such deprived souls should make us live humble.

But sometimes I wonder why do we want to stop our growth because someone is not so well to do? Why can’t we grow and instead of being upset and pitiful, help these people up too? Why can’t we work so as to benefit them as well?

Giving them a share of our earning doesn’t help. They remain dependent. Showing sympathy and being pitiful does not help either. Our getting content with whatever we have doesn’t matter. because in all this, the question of their betterment remains unanswered.

What is it that we should do, as a collective society, to improve the condition humanity is in? What way leads us to a blissful garden?

But before we find answer to such questions we have an obstacle to tackle.

When do we erase the boundaries and consider all humans one?

I Seek Alone

Exhausted assuming this role
I no more can console

My share of love would find me soon
Why should I fret, worry or gloom

I am tired of all the whine
To be them, they need some wine

Ungrateful, complaining souls
devoid of dreams, aims or goals

Fatigued, I seek peace
I seek alone

Passive Aggressiveness

All life through they taught how one should behave. How it was important to respect elders, seniors. And how maintaining a low tone and containing your disagreement is a way of showing this respect.

Did any of those realise they were teaching kids to bottle up emotions? Hide their true feelings? They were teaching, training them to use a paint brush, to put up a mask. Why did the world have problems with real?

What would happen if a child openly disagreed with his parents? “Dad, I don’t want to pursue science. I love commerce.” How does this simple admission hamper respect or relation? More so, it would help them understand each other.

But we so want to control everything that we forget where we should and where we should not talk. Some things are personal. Very close to heart. And when someone else takes away the right to express it, exercise it or pursue it, we change. We either revolt, blow up, throw up arms in protest, “This is what I want and I won’t bend”, or we bottle up. Keep emotions to oneself. Put a fake mask of happiness and do as told.

No doubt this mask makes everyone else happy. But has anyone ever thought how it impacts the person? How a lost dream and a fake smile kill him. Everyday!

This pushes one to a new zone, a mentality. Passive Aggressive Behaviour. Actively they don’t show their disagreement. Ah! Who listens either way. But passively they make sure they avenge themselves. Everything behind a mask of agreement and respect.
If we imagine scolding a child and that child breaks your favourite mug, “Oops! It dropped out of my hands”. While we mourn the loss, the child enjoys. Tit for tat.

Ah! And how many times have we been asked to do something we don’t want to. “Is it done yet?” “Ah! I am working on it. Just that it won’t happen.” We are not born procrastinators, we tend to acquire the trait on demand.

Though we see everyone calling sarcasm a sign of high IQ, it again is passive aggression. Just hidden underneath a translucent veil of humour. Sharp and ready to sting.
But at the end why should there be any need of such behaviour? Why should someone ever feel the need of a mask, a paint brush. Why should anyone ever do something just to please people?

Why care for respect and fear when it can drive you to such fatal behaviour. Once this behaviour was listed as a mental disorder. But so many people depict this tendency that now it is merely behaviour.

Why should there be passive aggression at all? Why not be and let others be real?




I stood up there calming myself,
talking good, giving hope
Staring at a stray paper and wondering
death stared, cuddling!

At that point life seemed hard
consoling, drying my own tears
That low within said, ” Give up.
There is nothing left to live up”

Circumstances rendered a dagger fit
why not use it appropriate?
Why not cut self in two
end the heartsick period and life too?

A thousand reasons to cut and bleed;
to sip a potion of arsenic;
jump from eleven floors or come under a car
to survive, life was praying onto a star.

Sobbing, thinking, fighting a war
light flickering, overtaking dark…
it decided slamming gloom
for a day avoiding doom!


A Note …


To be available as a book
how noble the soul shall be
letting go through to find answers
what he has found long ago.

Being that hand who takes to walk
when we stagger in the path
the beam of light that fills the room
when all you see is filled of gloom

The mirror who never laughed at the tears
whose voice had calmed a tempest
emphasizing the good in you
a calm talk to draw you out of blue

No, I won’t call him an angel
humans starve so much more
tending to balance all thee got
and yet show us all around!

And yet so often we tend to forget
the goods we learnt in the process
all we see is we are bound
ugly four walls enclosing us!

We keep on whining not aware
how much they have to share
and yet we disregard their depth of knowledge
as if we knew the ultimate truth….

So ignorant that we do not realize
what is good and what bad
and yet we point fingers on those
who tend to make us realize “us”.


A blast has happened somewhere. I hurriedly grab my pen to write things down. To be given on the official website as the breaking news. Along with are thoughts that I might be late. Others might have already published the news increasing their page views and hence I lag behind. I have to hurry up. Else, I loose the war.

But was a piece of news more important than any other humanitarian help that I could have provided? Was I being a mute spectator while I could have been a savior? Did I sacrifice a soul just because I needed to report back to my workplace with the relevant information and hence chose not to help? Was I being inhumane? Selfish? And my acts were no less than that of the oppressors. They looked towards the victim from the same end as mine. I hold a mic and have a cameraman. I narrate a fancy story or write one.

I waste moments in writing or speaking. Could I not call an ambulance instead? Or ferry the victim in my own cab? Or was I too frightened of receiving canes?

When did my job turn me feeling-less? We all carve for peace and sustenance. But when it comes to action, do all of us do the needful? Do we shun all ego and do the needful? Do we overlook the monetary gain a piece of news would give for the sake of someone’s life? Even if someone does, is the number significant?

In times when medical aid is required and not readily available, can the huge crowd of journalists not prove to be a boon to society if they come forward to help? Can some moments from a journalist’s duty not save a daughter from being orphaned? Can it not save a mother from turning insane? Why can’t we learn to administer basic first aid? Why can’t we value someone’s life more than TRP’s. Is human blood so cheap?