I am here , somewhere

I see you looking at me,
Expecting some words,

But i just grin.

Or feebly smile,

And turn away.

I hear you trying to talk

About yourself , me or nothing

And i simply find

Ways to distract me.

I know what is asked

Or wanted from me,

But my words refuse

To follow my lead.

I look through myself

And wish to find strength

To just hold your hand

And search for the moments

That will crack me up

And fill the silences,

That would let you kNow

And also believe

In me, my  intention,

To stay with you

This way or that,

Here or somewhere close,

I am , i always would be.


Got a new skin,have you
For I feel not the same
When I reach out to you,
The dissociation
Cutting like knife,
The butter smooth ties
I held dear to me.

I know not anymore,
The reactions I feel,
Echo from you,just you
I miss but also fear
How words might appear
If left without care,
The wounds would be anew.

How to let go of things
How to be at peace,
When life picks its pace,
How does one saves the day
From spiralling into thoughts
That were your very heaven,
Now nightmares they be.

A false goodbye

Bye for now,
The false goodbye;
How often it is staged
Part angry, part hurt,
Never fully realized.
I circle back
To your silence,
Skirting from my
Own words
That wished you away
Some days back.
I want to take back
The words I never meant,
Hoping I can show
Just once
Goodbye is not for you,
See you soon,
And some love you
Filled moments
I always seek.


10 steps before I hit the wall, either side. A little flower pot on my right , struggling with few buds that refuse to open up. A wall covered with few creepers on the left, decaying leaves and entwined growth swaying to the morning breeze. This compound , this space is where I walk many mornings when I am too late to step out to the nearby park. The sun does not enter this closure till late, giving me shelter and time to begin my mornings on somewhat fresh air.

Count and count a little more. Breathe in , breathe out. Feel the steps , go with the flow. Walks are the only excercise i give myself. So unlike the times when I would go wandering alone just to see the world – the natural and the man made alike. For me walks were an extension of me. I would instantly love anyone who agreed to walk with me without asking how far or how long. And now , too lazy to wake up early and too busy to take time off for myself, I walk in this closed space  – 10 steps to each side; one pot on right , a creeper on the left.

The rythm of steps,
The clockwork counting goes on
This routine i love.

Inspired from dversepoets.com

I should have kissed you

Drunk on your touch,
Or perhaps just your presence;
That night I dragged myself
Out of the bar, into the night
Filled with desperation
To hold on to the time
When you shared the air
I breathed.
I should have kissed you
I would have kissed you
But i could see it would hurt
It would break you,
And smash your heart
Along the coast of my dreams.
And i wasn’t yet ready
To gather myself,
To hold you steady
Or to sort the mess
Of this relationship
Doomed to end
For the very moment
You started loving me.
I should have kissed you
But i only touched
Your lips with my fingers
Taking all my stories back
And placing the poems
Some day we will meet
Again, to finish what we started,
To know how it hurts
To kiss goodbye

Independent , but how much ?

Yesterday evening I overheard a lady telling her manager she can not go by metro since she is married. Before others could question it , she added that her husband doest not “allow” it. It was not a shock to me to hear this but the sense of pride and acceptance in this , was indeed discomforting. I never say that men like to supress their wives or that they intentionally put restrictions on women post marriage. What I want to beleive is that they are blindly following the ways of the men befire them. The sensible thing for the lady would have been to convince the guy it is normal and safe and very much practically important to travel in metro Somedays unless it is too late in night ( even if my husband asks me , i do not travel alone in metro after 9pm ). It is such small decisions , when left to the men turn them responsible for all your decisions in life. Before wedding or post , the important thing is to have a sense of right or wrong as a person and not judge it based on your sex.

Later yesterday night , I wanted to meet my friend after office but my husband was tired and he refused to meet anyone. I could have gone on my own or called my friend to drop me home later around midnight but a part of me scolded me saying it does not look good that your man is home alone and you want to roam outside in the night. So yeah , this is half the reason that I dropped the plan and rather came home to dine with husband and i loved that more. But now I know there are certain moments , I too view myself first as a married lady and then as a person who can want to do random things at random hours. It still remains to be seen , how will I react in those times. All I hope is i act right and fair to myself and not carry the regrets about not trying or knowing what I allow myself to do without needing to justify with , ” if men can do , me too” ..


Give me a sign
When things are not right
And even when they are ,
Maybe I will stil need some light
On way things sound
From my mouth to yours,
Oh leave the ears out
Of our daily struggles
To fit the words
Into right slots – yes , no
Some maybes of hopes
guide me love, i whisper
Hold me close, i seek
With tight lipped silence
And eyes full of dreams
That once were you and me


( inspired by the collage in the post )

#Atozchallenge Nostalgia

Nothing and I mean nothing can make me nostalgic like certain books. Yesterday evening, in one of the FB groups ( that needs a seperate post ) , the admin asked us to mention the books that we loved as a child.

And that has pushed me on to this massive nostalgic trip into school years and growing up with books from the library. My love for books started in class V when my english teacher alloted us to read minimum 2 books during the summer vacations. My mother who is an avid reader still, was so happy at this homework that she specially took us to nearby bigger town to get books for us. So it was panchatantra , some moral stories and few mythological books I read that vacation. Good enough to make me know what it is to read books other than textbooks. Then I discovered Famous five and Hardy Boys in school library which I survived on for next 2 years. My growing apetite for books was noticed and duly fed both by my English teacher and my mother who did not leave any birthday or celebrations without letting me buy books. I read any book I could get my hands on in relative’s houses or in my friend’s possession. I remember reading Harry Potter in class XI ( 2 years after it was published ) when a friend got it gifted by her aunt. She was not so fond of reading so offered me to read first. I finished the first book in 3 days and the next part in 4 days ( due to a test in between ).

I read not as much in school or college as much as I do now. I never was into buying or collecting either. The 7th HP was my first expensive and impulsive buy owing to the first salary around the same time. But now I buy books like a lady possessed. Last week i met a dear friend who is also an amazing author and she said she is suddenly buying in bulk as she fears the day people stop publishing books. I did not give it much thouht until today when I was searching a book for my husband. I find that its few copies are only in USA and costs about 30 dollars. The same book in a second hand shop was bought by a friend for 1 dollar last year. This really has made me panic a little. I do not want to lose the chance to collect some of the books now before they become difficult to locate. My childhood love – the series that defined my teenage have to be the first to be gathered in case my kids want to read ( they will be forced to, I know ) !

A trip to sunday book bazaar is definitely needed now. Time to start gathering the gems from the past, till some of the copies last. And one day, I will have a library of my own. Definitely I will have to open one, else the books might die of loneliness !!

#Atozchallenge Loss

There once was a place , a heart , a contact in the phone that was my escape from the world. There once was an option to hide in this place , to meet this heart , to tell secrets to this contact at even 2 am in the night. And then, we evolved. The places got bigger , the heart more in demand , the contacts more in number, less in time I asked.

Have you felt the loss of a friend ?
Have you talked ever about loss of the corners where you could step into and fade from the world ?
Have you often wished to just once be transported into that moment where you knew things are changing, and you could hug him tight and be hugged back with same intensity.

I suddenly realized that Not losses, but how we deal with them change us.
The losses will always be there , you lose some ; some lose you.
But have you stopped seeking those things , places and person any more ?
No loss is the end.
No end is always a loss.
The end or the loss is just anotjer chapter. Unless you write ahead, tjere will always be emptiness.

Keep love flowing.
Keep love coming to you.

Love the losses too.
They are sometimes a blessing and a necessity.

#Atozchallenge Gratitude

What keeps me going every single time I pause , fall or feel left behind is not my will. But it is the confidence that my family and friends have in me , the words of appreciation and trust that makes me look ahead at the goal. Or pick a new goal for myself.

Once in every 2-3 months time I am reminded of the good fortune I have in form of my friends , my husband, random inspirations and the love for words that God filled me with. Books and writing has helped me survive when I found myself in the darkest of corners of my mind.

For all this and more that I fail to acknowledge, thank you universe !

Thank you friends.
I love you all.

PS – i really think I will get this as a tattoo some day !


Image source