#AtoZchallenge #NaPoWriMo Baby

The arms seek
And so does the heart,
To hold a tiny people
And a new journey starts.

The mind is taken over
Beyond logic and science
She desires nothing so bad
As to witness magic of new life.

With passing time
And others’s disapproving gaze
She feels herself empty
And unworthy of any priase.

The womb has its own mind
Little do others want to accept
In pursuits of having a baby
She ruins her life,once perfect.

The love and desire
Turned into mindless obsession
Saner thoughts were discarded
Bordering on the depression.

Till one day she looked at him
The guy who loved her still
His devotion won over the world
Finally there was peace within.

Being together was their strength
And she could not lose it again
She will have her motherhood
But not by giving him pain.

Its a beautiful bond they built
of understanding and support,
This togetherness alone can fill
The disjointed pieces they hold.

I blossom

Remember how I fought with you when I felt some people would steal you from me ? You called me possessive. You called me mad. You thought I finally crossed a line. I knew no way to tell you how scary that time was. Insecurity fed my fears and no matter how much you or me tried, we ended cutting each other – you with your words and me with  my rudeness.

Did I care if your friends found my behave demeaning ? I probably did not. But when I found you apologizing on my behalf or making excuses, it hurt me more. You were content with the momentary high those people gave you. You needed that shot of love and confidence. But it was me who knew the  journey back from there will be dark and lonely. What if I wasn’t around to hold your hand and guide you to yourself ? But we are past all that and much more. Today i know, no matter who comes and goes, we both are going to be together in all that flows. For friendship. For love. For silence and words.

Like soil you hold,
Air water, some sunshine too
I blossom in you.

Writing about self

I am reading the novel “The forgotten daughter” these days. It is a story of three ladies and how they are connected ( am yet to reach the details ). But what made me pause and write this post is the way it describes the memories , the feelings ; capturing every nuance in details.

Then as I checked this week’s prompt at Ermilia’s blog , it just hit me that writing about yourself is so much like looking into the mirror. You can not hide much when you set the pen rolling on the paper, though one can edit a lot as you ready it to present to the world. I really have not been doing that lately , paying attention to changes , noting the slight wrinkles of worry or the glimmer of pride in my own eyes. I do not have a mirror in my room and the one I use is a little far away – just enough to differentiate a good hair day from bad one. I think my writing has become a little like this too. I see the thoughts and things in a single dimensional cut. A slice of the day where I capture one-way transaction with life. But am I really letting it talk to me ? I fear am deliberately hiding from my own reflection and interpretation of my words read back to me. Some of my own thoughts are begging me to be shown light , to be placed in front of a mirror. On a good day , mirror image can boost your confidence and the vice versa would make you nervous. Similar works in writing but what is different is here is that it never is a permanent  bad one. You edit and edit and re read and read again till it makes sense atleast to you. That is when writing beomes therapeutic.

Hope this changes in days to come. Hope I can be more free with my words,atleast in drafts of my posts !

Happy writing ( more ) to me.

Good wishes

Since my surgical procedure for gall bladder stones 2 months back, my body has been in some sort of pain almost every day. Recently , the pain in neck and shoulders have increased in frequency too due to the winter chill. My husband has a ligament tear in the left knee and it is not getting better any soon I fear.

Among all this thoughts and worries, as I sat today morning, savoring some sunlight and warmth, a friend pinged me to wish me and yogesh a speedy recovery and blessings from God. It wasn’t nothing unusual but still that kindness and the care of someone to personally message you and saying you deserve the blessings ‘coz of how good you are ; that some how was very overwhelming for me. I could sense the sincerity and love in those 4 lines.

And so to everyone who has wished me good today or anytime in the past, I am so much grateful for the kindness and the good vibes.

Sending you all a lot of positivity and smiles for your day while I take lessons and a pledge to pass on this wishes to anyone in need. Let the love flow. Let the kindness grow.


What could be , should be

We could have been sitting there,
the plush sofa; the wine and the glasses
watching people around,
guessing their stories
and suddenly switching to ours –
as if we have left something hidden
some part of life, meant to share
in silent company and understanding.

We should have been there
Pouring tea for me, your coffee,
the aromas mixing in the air
as you would teach me a new recipe
one I would not cook, while sharing
another anecdote –
perhaps not even new
but it will lead to a new finding
about you , me and others too.

We have to meet some day soon,
before the tears replace
the words I saved for you,
before I forget the stories
and their happy endings.
And yet we both know not
When time will bless such moments
Such peace, such freedom, such wishes. 

Ginger memories

Ginger – grated or mashed
never elicit the memory,
like the chunks did today –
part fried, part seasoned
with the spices you taught.

some days I fear you fading,
or being replaced by spaces
deadened with your absence-
the thoughts, so irrelevant;
deeply clawed to my existence.

some days I smell hibiscus
on my hands when others sleep-
its almost dolorous, those nights
when I think of your love for me,
to seek it in my cooking.

Today I cooked one of my favorite pulses , in almost same style as my mother does. One bite , and I could not stop myself from thinking of her , missing her and almost dreading the realization that she is growing old.

This one is dedicated to those thoughts , to her.

A Conversation

Out of practice,
Awkward silences,
Never did happen
The dance of small talks.
Stretched distances
Thoughts on parallel track,
Rituals were made
Of 3am , weekly,even  ISD calls.

Never out of things to share
Never satisfied of exchange,
When did we grow this way
So cautious of spaces shared.
Never close , never out of thoughts
Never was a friendship so much secure
insecurity led to fights, drama full on
But this peace even is little too bored.

This poem is about a conversation, its a one sided conversation, of 2 people or maybe mine with 2 different sort of thoughts.. take a guess !

She : a dedication


could be anyone;

yet She is like no one.

she is unknown to me most days;

and still dear to me if you ask.

she is sum of her friendships and some part mine,

she is the goodness spilled over by time,

she bounces off my thoughts like sunshine,

she plants smiles in my words each night.

she is like the sister from parallel universe,

or perhaps the split image of my world,

she is love, she is fun, she is heart and the blood,

she sings of heartbreaks, and gathers the debris notes

she plucks the rotten petals and keep safe the redness of rose,

she could be some one you know

or some one quite ignored,

she is a part of younger me,

and part of dreams I had lost.