Reaching out 


They will try to tie my hands and it’s going to be dark, but I’ll keep those eyes on the journey to embark.

And sometimes the tide will try to take it all away and the storm will question my every move with every passing wave.

But still I know the wind will always show me the way.

Because you know these oceans have also smelt the beach and dream of meeting the sand just like me.

They will tie my hands and it’s going to be dark, but there are shores that I have to mark.

The Reign

It is raining hard,

 the long streaks of water seem like an amperic current.

The soil doesn’t react, it does not break it’s silence, does not complain of being disintegrated CONSTANTLY.

Why would it? His fragile existence was in no way capable of questioning the POWER.

It is not a revolutionary, It cannot be,

So he lays, he remains, like a helpless soul being harassed in the canteen.

Those mighty trees will stand there, looking all intelligent but never ask the unabashed sudden rain to go easy on the soil. 

They will enjoy it, nod along.

The rain will not stop, it has it’s own way, he will ‘leave him’ only when he wants to.

WHO KNOWS WHEN THIS RAIN WOULD STOP and the warm sunshine would heal the erosion and comfort the mud.

It has been many years but still the monsoon just never lets him forget.


For the poet whose poetry we could never read.

After all these years dad, I wonder what life had been, had you allowed me to take a different path.

I don’t know why dad but these ornamented windows and oak doors make me feel nothing but claustrophobic.

The chandeliers seem to stare at me with angry eyes questioning me the very reason of my existence and I have no answer dad. I do not know if it’s just in my head but I really feel that these wires are strangling me.

I have started shuddering in my own house, suddenly started being afraid of everything around me. I am tired dad, tired of trying and failing and trying.

These numbers seem to fade in a black hole now, dragging me with them, pulling me by the hair, rupturing my veins, numbing the pain. 

The face in the rear view looks so ugly dad, I can’t seem to look at it anymore. My heart is pounding fast dad, pleading to be resucitated but there is no one here.

My soul is slowly abandoning me, I am fading day by day into a dark shadow, I don’t know what is more important, my being or these numbers.

     But I promise you dad, I will never show you this letter and work again tomorrow.

THE END of the story…

College, College, College! Simply the word is capable of evoking a mood, creating a youthful colourful vibe. It gives a sense that something, something big is about to happen. Life is about to take a new road and all is going to change.

However embedded within the sweet excitement, in the middle of butterflies is Fear, fear of feeling lost in a crowd, the fear of rejection, fear of not being able to be oneself. Independence is a bittersweet term, finally you are on your own but now no matter what happens, what life gives you or takes from you, YOU SHALL BE ON YOUR OWN. You solely are responsible for it was your decision, your choice.


Hey that’s like an important day. It’s like the first day of school, really and I am scared except ma pa are not around.

So I joined college after a week from opening day, thanks to the medical entrance examination in which I knew ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. I had no idea where my classroom was or where was I supposed to go. Most literally and metaphorically, I was lost. Thank God one  administration man gave me my schedule. I realised that I was two hours early for the lecture.

After loitering and staggering in the hot afternoon when I finally entered the classroom, the teacher yelled at me for being so negligient. She told that the class had finished the story and was about to discuss the questions. Thus there was no point in me attending the lecture as I didn’t even have the text. Like a retired general, I walked back to the tree where I had been sitting.

I had come to study literature after a PCB with biotech and the inspiration received from the first day did wonders to my confidence. In that moment, that day I felt deceived, the pangs of independence, the plight of freedom, the crafty truth of taking chances and following your heart.

However life was better from the second day itself, I had acquired the text and a new story had just begun in the class.

की जब मैं आईना देखती हूँ।

आज रात आइना देखा था, क्या दिखा?

जब निकली थी इस सफर पर, मैं खुद को ढूंढने आयी थी, मगर अब एक रेशमी मकान के लिए कहीं घर छोड़ आई हूँ,

कि अब इतने लिबास हैं मुझपे की इन लिबासों में कहीं खुद को खोजती हूँ,

की जब मैं आईना देखती हूँ, इस तस्वीर में अपनी पहचान ढूंढती हूँ।

जज़्बात थे कई जो अब कहीं खो गए है, वक़्त की इस लड़ाई ने एक बहरूपिया बना दिया है कि अब तो भूल गयी हूँ की सच में कैसी दिखती हूँ,

की जब मैं आईना देखती हूं, इन खाली आखों में कोई बात ढूंढती हूँ।

ज़माने के साथ चलने के लिए कहीं खुद को छोड़ आई हूँ, कि अब हंसती हूँ तो लगता है झूठ बोल रही हूँ,

की जब मैं आईना देखती हूं, अपनी हँसी में एक मुसकान ढूंढती हूँ।

रिश्ते तो बहुत पहले हुआ करते थे अब सिर्फ लोग हैं, कि जैसे ज़िंदा तो हूँ लेकिन ज़िन्दगी नासाज़ है, मुसलसल इन सड़कों में अब अपने जज़बात ढूंढती हूँ,

की जब मैं आईना देखती हूं, ज़िन्दगी की इस रंजिश में कल सुबह उठने की कोई वजह ढूंढती हूँ।

कि सच कहूँ तो यह आईना तोड़ देने का दिल करता है,

लेकिन क्या करे,

शहरों में तो यूँही चलता है।


Are all romances RED? Or are there also other kind of passions?

Over the past few days, I have not seen you, perhaps a certain lack of inspiration.

Over the past few days, I have not known where you have been, maybe the regular anxiety of seeing you, this fear of saying something I might not be proud of, this unwavering rampant energy of yours makes me vulnerable, makes me think, makes me want a little more, it’s difficult to take it in all the time you know.

But today as the world sleeps, at the hour of shifts in the sky between the sun and the moon, I just had to see you, maybe this urge to be listened to. And as you embrace me today, I want to tell you that it is your touch that makes me see myself in a new light, that every time we meet, I levitate a little into the sky. 

So I want to thank-you for holding me close when nobody else would, for consoling me silently, for accepting me when I am flawed, for believing in me even when I did not, for keeping my unsaid words safely within you.

So thankyou, dedicated to you, my diary…..