Declarations of love etched into your substance

You bleed serum from those scored ends

The artist came in search of a picturesque subject

Your pitiable scars intrigued him instead

On his canvas he drew, as you bled around the stabs

Up at a gallery, for display was your plight

They called out the flaws of modern day love

Sold for a million, you and your scars

He painted you well, you’re a site to visit now

Your gigantic form occupying centre stage

They marvel at your chiseled scars instead

Among all this attention, a wide eye little one

Walks up to you, touches your scars

Shriveled, they don’t bleed anymore, he screams

Dear tree! Your tattoo is obscene! 


The Pursuit Of Identity

Have you ever observed butterflies, just doing their thing, fluttering their wings? 

Ever wanted to choose which one of them was prettier? 

Ever wondered what they’d be like ,sans all the color? 

Did they, as caterpillars intrigue you just as much? 

Would they ,with broken wings, interest you just as much? 
No. The beautiful wings gave them identity.
Ever placed paper on oil paint and marveled at the random designs?

Ever repaired a tattered shoe until you made it shine? 

Ever noticed a solitary dragonfly in a pack of over a thousand? 

Ever paid attention to a background dancer without reason? 
The paint gave paper identity. Identity to its blank existence

Your effort gave the shoe identity. Identity to its ragged existence

A solitary dragonfly has none whatsoever, unless a wing’s extra, or none at all

Limelight gives the dancer its identity, identity with reason.
Would it be completely wrong then, to say

Identity is identity ,only as long as you hold on to it? 
A baby’s born, and nurtured with “unconditional love”

It grows to become an obedient kid, loved and blessed by all

One fine day, it goes missing, much to everyone’s horror

The description they gave was of a well mannered kid, happy, active and cheerful.

Word gets out and a hunt begins, no yield whatsoever.
Ten years down, at the door he stands, every bit a tramp

Smoking a joint, unruly hair, stinking of alcohol and dirt

Their kid went missing, a boy had returned, not in the slightest their own

Unconditional love seemed a lost cause, not knowing how things had turned
They took him in, fed him well, but only because he was blood

The person in him was no more their own, he felt his soul burn

Went away without saying a word, this time no search ensued

No tears shed, no worries exchanged, none a fan of his identity, new.
He went, only to return, a man of thirty, having figured out his life

His effort to be someone they’d love, wouldn’t go unanswered

This time they took him in, arms wide open, tears of joy were shed

Made him promise he’d never walk away, their boy had finally returned
He went in search of his lost identity, that which appealed to all

Buried the one he carried, instead, that which appealed to him

Lived the rest of his life happy, amid love and respect

The only emotion missing, now, was that of content
At seventy he fell sick, his memory couldn’t keep up

The people faded from his mind, they who were his identity

They walked away from his self, “unconditional love” went down the drain

He lost his real identity for people who didn’t care after all….

Where We Truly Belong

​When the green outside is so plush and soothing it makes the mandatory blacks and whites seem unimportant
When the faraway chirping of an unknown bird seeks its way through music booming in your earphones
When the sky is an enormous blanket of the faintest blue and you gaze not realizing its been hours already
When the few drops of crystal clear rain light up your face a million times better than makeup could
When that cup of coffee in the verandah with nobody but the trees and grass makes life worth living
When you feel one with nature and not just a fading part of it
When losing yourself in the woods gives the pleasure that these concrete jungles can’t
When mother earth in all her raw beauty satisfies you more than these futile attempts at beautification
Maybe that’s when we realise we went a little too far, a little too fast
Because all that remains now is patches of her amid moulds and scaffolds, bamboo, tar and concrete
Because all that remains, is all that we’ve left behind…


​Stars, sands and the sea witnessed

The newest, purest form of love

All night

Realistic, a future they planned

Learning, loving and providing each other with


Glee and happy tears, they both

Held each other in a tight embrace in the


To My Timeless Hero…

​My grandpa’s an octogenarian now
His feet dawdle, his hands tremble

His vision is blurred, his speech is slurred

He hides his watch and forgets his torch

The once know it all now struggles for recall
‘ Evils of old age’, I hear. Evil, really? 

As a toddler I was so loved, (still am)

I fell as I walked, made no sense when I talked

My hands all dirty, my feet all jerky

I hid all my toys, screeched at the top of my voice
‘Beauty of childhood,’ they say, and I agree

Why’s old age evil and childhood the best? 

Those hands that made me, don’t they deserve respect? 
Grandpa spills food and it’s a mess to clean

I used to do the same, but cute it must’ve been
I cried for attention, and surely, I got tons

Now grandpa does the same, and he has none
He repeats himself helplessly, though no one really cares

My senseless blabber was attended to, like I had a story to share
And after he’s been told off, I catch him lost in deep thought at times, 

Helplessly looking out the window, I wonder if they’re same as mine
Grandpa spoke so passionately, of the happiness of holding our tiny little fingers

It is heart wrenching, you know, not being there to help with his quiver
The man who gave us his all, now just longs for reciprocation

While we’re busy fighting his age like it’s a monster with aggression
His brain is failing him and he turns towards his beloved  family
His ‘exasperated’ family instead, finds his ageing ‘ugly’
This was our chance, and we let it slip, for our ego is more important

Than to give back to them what they gave us- love, care, attention
Nature’s big plan now stands flawed, reduced down to a petty game
I’ve failed you grandpa, you know that too, and yet, you love me the same…

All That Changed

​I wrote my alphabet fast while he wrote beautifully

All the knowledge we had, few letters, A to Z

We were on the same page….

I was good with words, she aced her numbers

I helped her with essays, she rested my math fumbles

We were on the same page….

My feet had a thing for dance, he had wonderful music

Talent all the same, though different were our musings

We were on the same page….

She cared for homeless animals, I collected for charity

Both noble causes, no room for disparity

We were on the same page….

But now, we’re not

We’re not because he’s smarter, and I’m nowhere close

We’re not because she’s rude, and that, everyone knows

And let’s not accept that these are games my mind leads

That I had an hour more to dance and he, few to read

That she’s not rude, and that straightforward is the word

That I can mould anyone in my mind, decide their worth

We aren’t on the same page anymore

Not since I decided:

I’m gorgeous, she’s not

She’s ugly, I’m hot

He’s dumb, I’m smart

His words garbage, mine , art

We stopped. We changed

Where only bad could be seen, we changed

Where the mind took over, we changed

Each time I saw a flaw, I changed

Each time I laughed them off, I changed

That book of life flipped back a hundred pages 

Regressing from where I started, recovery will take me ages…..

(The diary of every ungrateful human)

Alone No More

​Jittery limbs and fidgety fingers

With mumbles for words and fumbles for speech

Fright in eyes and plight on the face

Superimposed by the incessant insults

Dejection, anger and a thousand other emotions

Not words enough to let them out

Cries unheard, pleas unattended

Another potential wizard fell pray to mental unease

Battling both mental and social demons

Alone, with nobody to even share 

The noose of depression tightens further

Each time another ‘normal’ person turns away

Let’s not contribute to their downfall anymore

Look them in the eye, say it like you mean it

Let’s do this together, through this ordeal, let’s walk

I promise to hear you out. Come, let’s talk 🙂

Moments Of Silence

​That silence of a mesmerized audience

The quiet after a fight

That mute second at the end of a song and the start of another

The silence in the arms of love

The quiet in endless star gazing

The hush hush tracing of a butterfly trail

The calm in my mother’s lap

The silent screech of a gramophone

The crunch of soil under tiptoe feet

The wordless poetry of raindrops

Those moments of priceless silence

Those that I left behind for future

The silence that got me through everything

That silence, I seek again…

For Angels Do Exist….

​Little eyes that blink with all their might

A toothless smile that lights up the world

She dreams of fairies and everything good

Blossoming flowers, chirping birds

Tightly clasped hands, jerky little feet

That’s all the emotion she has within

And a smile, a toothless smile

And a dreamland -mystical, magical

All that makes her happy, elves, angels

She dreams of them with shut little eyes

And then she responds to that one voice

The only voice she knew in the womb

Eyes wide open, she looks at the voice

Angels, fairies, and everything good

She smiles at her, her mother, her angel

Her first ever dream had already come true.

The Unbroken Promise

​I gave you my word, and lived by it each day,

“I’ll protect you forever,” you said, “come what may”

You broke your promise easy, left me scorching in solitude

Liberated, don’t you feel, of bondage of such great magnitude? 

Coming to think of it, you were right in doing so

A promise is no different from time in prison, no? 

A compromise on freedom to make your own decisions

Each promise a step further into a world of inhibitions

You let go of me, so I broke my promise to you

Did each of those things I swore I wouldn’t do

That I would respect women, be good to them always

See them as humans, not a good body, a pretty face

Yes, I broke my promise, not once, but time and again

Each time I remembered your deceit, it alleviated my pain

So many women, the bodies of whom I violated

Flesh the tonic I turned to, always, when dejected

Why did you, mother? Why did you let me loose? 

You’re the reason today, I stand behind this noose
“Protect you, I did, believe me when I say

From everything that I could, I stood in their way

I didn’t let you loose son, I opened you to the world

I didn’t influence, to you how the universe unfurled

I gave you life and values, dear, that’s all I have done

Your choices, your decisions, I swear I’ve made none

You thought I let go of you, broke all my promises

My womb bleeds in sorrow, though, stabbed with all your blemishes

This noose takes away your breath son, but I’ve been dead for years

With each of your promises broken, each innocent girl’s tears……