Something I wrote partly feeling what I wrote amd partly inspired by experiences of some companions. Here it goes:

Somedays its all colourful and gay

Somedays are full of desperate prays

Somedays I find these connections

Somedays its about lonely reflections
A multitude of moments in resonance

Royally fucked up and shining in brilliance
Today I wake up with acceptance

No longer wrapped in bygones repentance

Tomorrow I am struggling to join the dots

Doubtful and scared of my own thoughts

last month I had no care

This week is my worst nightmare
Optimism over doubts

Torn and confused I shout

I am fed up of these state of minds

I am fed up of being this kind
I am strong I am overcoming this

I also want a shoulder and a kiss

I know you, you should understand

But how to tell what my feelings command

Shouldn’t I be the one in control?

Zeppelin’s rock that doesn’t roll
How to end where it could be a new beginning

Moreover I don’t have this courage sort of thing

Cowardly? It requires so much brevity

Cowardly? I am more so, what pity!!!
Instead I turn to a life changing decision

Its dawn it must be the right navigation

Oh the risks don’t fret

If a blunder, never regret

I do now I can’t feel otherwise

I can’t forgive myself to be precise
I do forget though, sometimes

My mistakes and old crimes

Oh bitch, crime is a strong word

Oh bitch, your sense of crime is absurd
Cut the ties, history doesn’t repeat

What are the odds my soul’ll face the same heat

Maybe not same but equally intense

Conflicting at all levels I’ve stopped making sense

Its a crisis of identity

Of my mind and its credibility
Is it just a swing as they call it

My changing temperament takes the credit

What those shockingly unrelated events trigger

What a terrifyingly blue river
Maybe it all is related anyway

All things stay to come back a different day

End it end it I can’t, you know of my courage issues

As it rhymes well you know i am stuck with tissues

Somedays I wish for numbness

Away from the intensity of this mess
Oh that’s gone, back miss sunshine!!!

I feel so fit and fine

Maybe not tomorrow

Maybe there’s sorrow
Uphill downhill, i know and agree

But it’s bad, a Zeitgeber of this degree

I want to grow, I want change

I want constancy in a master so strange

Yes they get it, all my pits 

And my peaks and those bits

That I hide inside unaware

Some of them do care
I am a blessed person

I am a certain someone

I turn blind to the facts

I turn to the raging acts

Tick tock it might explode

So i pack away in isolation to unload

Eventful, such terrifying action

Packed inside a horrible pattern

Uphill downhill I feel pukish

I’ve lost my desire, my fetish

Get ready for the ride

Happy times by my side

Sad ones too, with me in middle

As it rhymes well, I am stuck with a riddle

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She seeks

Yet another of my late night ramblings, this is rooted from a realisation that we all are, to a great extent, the cause and solutions of all our problems. Feeling lost and filled with a helpless cluelessness, my intensified desperation and those small rays of hidden hope (the scenario wasn’t this dramatic though) came out in this form. Here it is – she seeks!!!


 A circumstantial picture that no wordsmith can draw;

she was stuck facing the backs;

Any result couldn’t be more erroneous

where elements were reciprocating 

in a way, most eccentric;

A voice of a lion

failed to find its way upward, or

was simply shunned and neglected?

A will of iron 

finally found a parallel rust;

The gorgeous river from her emeralds

failed to move,

the forces at play;

Her feet touching a path

carved by her ignorant consciousness;

She feels the thirst 

like never before,

no shining pearls and

no mirage to tease her;

She cuts through the ruggedness;

was it a gloomy fountain or

an actual answer to her thirst?

In the muddy green she found,or

was it the other way round?

she saw her clear reflection. 

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On a random December evening of 2015 in a usual pattern of laying on bed, trying really hard to sleep and using the aid of music to sink into a flow of serenading melody gently transforming in a state of peaceful slumber (the process isn’t as easy and nice with me, trust me!!!), I was listening to one of my favorite voices giving greater depths to the lyrics of “she’s thunderstorms” and replaying the pleasant moments that sometimes flash in my mind. So I have been trying to shape these flash of images in the form of a short piece since a long time but I guess it had to happen on that random December night under the painfully beautiful musical stimulus by Alexander David Turner from Sheffield. So here it is!!!


Meeting place

The sun dipping into the horizon

Vanishing like every moment of their intimacy;

Blue high up, Blue tickling their toes, the fading blues inside;

A smile, a smirk, the tongue and

The taste of lemon with a satisfactorily playful mint;

His naughty blues, her overwhelming blush;

When the smoke of his cigarettes meets her bubbles,

creating the most magical rendezvous.


Well Alexander David Turner and my feelings for him require tons of words and articles and I will definitely make it known to the world if I ever am able to express the ginormous love and admiration in the form of words. Till then … 🙂

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13 reasons why…

In the light of recent events, there has been a lot of discussion and focus over an issue which is not so recent. With all these stories appearing in the news, some damn relatable feelings and the storm of thoughts my recent watch of ’13 reasons why’ has triggered, I too like many others was into deep contemplation about how could someone be in a state of mind to take one’s own life ,whether it is the right thing to do or if there is any right thing at all in such a scenario. While I have had my share of debates with myself as well as my friends about Hannah baker, I couldn’t help but feel helpless about the situation. And so I got to thinking what I feel about my life and If I were to end it why would I end it. While I could easily manage recalling 13 problems with my life, at the same time, imagining the finality of the situation made me realize that I would be missing out on so many potentially amazing and remarkably weird things if my life were to end right now. I might actually experience some of this while I might never come anywhere near realizing some of this shit but here are 13 reasons why (I certainly found more than 13) I don’t want to die just yet (In no particular order):

  1. I am yet to taste a frog, crocodile and octopus.
  2. I am yet to publish a first author research paper.
  3. I am yet to perform a flirtatious proposal to one of my crushes in a moment of insane courage.
  4. Yet to find a boyfriend.
  5. I still haven’t been to and roamed around Italy in its entirety.
  6. Yet to attend my first ever arctic monkeys concert.
  7. Yet to meet and hug Alex Turner.
  8. Yet to lose my virginity in the most exciting (maybe pathetic) circumstances.
  9.  Yet to learn how to play a harmonica.
  10. I am yet to watch Breaking Bad and South park.
  11. I am yet to experience the agonies of childbirth.
  12. Still haven’t tasted white wine yet.
  13. I still have to buy a set of lacy undergarments.

Well this is in no way me bragging about offering a miraculous solution or a magic potion to any of the pressing issues that got us into thinking about life, its problems and perks but I certainly felt good and nice just wondering about all the possibilities I haven’t experienced yet and no matter at what stage of life one is we all wonder about certain things, certain dreams, certain wishes and a certain someone. For me even thinking about the end point of my life made me immediately regret missing out on some of the stuff (some of which certainly might never come true) and It made me realize why I want to live more. While I have no insights on what may be going on anyone’s life and in no way eligible to preach anything on this matter to anyone, my only suggestion is to just sit and think of 13 reasons or more why you don’t want to die just yet and see how that works for you. While for me it didn’t ease any of the ache or distress events around us have caused nor did it emerge as a life changing revelation, all it did was give me 5 minutes of crazy fun and a feeling of preciousness for my life which was seemingly shitty a few moments ago. Maybe this little endeavor could give us all some new reasons to start over, an extra zest to an already zestful life or some harmless fun for five minutes.  Well its anyways just five minutes!!!


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This is my first attempt (I consider it more of an experiment to escape the otherwise boring winter holidays of being pathetically jobless) of writing something on a public platform (you can comment freely, all suggestions for improvement are welcome!!!)  and so its an obvious and deeply sentimental obligation of mine to dedicate it to a person who practically taught me how to read, write, speak, behave and be ‘me’- My grandfather.  A guide, confidante and friend of mine, he was my soul sister for the first 18 years of my life.

Living in a joint family has its perks and I admit, I made the most of it. So from the day I was born I received overwhelming love from 3 mothers , 3 fathers and a loving yet slightly weird elder cousin sister. My golden era as the youngest child in the family ended shortly with the birth of my nagging, idiotic brothers. Yet there was no love lost between me and my grandpa and I continued to be his favorite person in the house and he mine.

Being a schoolteacher his entire life , he was famously known to have taught almost half of my father’s classmates and other people living in our colony. And so when my fathers (my father and his elder brother)  got their jobs, he was strictly forbidden from continuing any more tuition business. ‘Old habits die hard’ and so me and my sister happily stepped into the role being his only pupils (too sad my brothers never understood the worth of that experience).

So our royal education began and I am glad it began like this. He used to teach us, preach us, make us understand things and even scold us for our mistakes. Teaching us would give him real joy and a sense of fulfillment that even I, as a 5 year old child who’s so naive to deep emotions, could sense so well in his beautiful eyes.

“I got the president award for best teacher in my district for 3 years in a row”, he used to say and I couldn’t agree more. His way of teaching was so full of amazing things. Those little pearls of moments when he used to be so engrossed and lost that his chai used to get cold and his biscuits used to remain untouched. He used to drink the same chai with sheer satisfaction of a job done to perfection. The studying part itself was such fun for me, he instilled in me, whatever zest I have to excel in things. He taught me that my only competition is myself, which I am struggling to follow in the one hell of a rat-race environment I face somedays. He gave me my precious ego. He gave me love and above  all he gave  me encouragement. He, like other people was expecting  a hell lot of phenomenal things from me during my crucial school years (I don’t even want to get into how pathetic the competitive exams make a student’s life) but he was also burning the mid-night oil with me. He used to fall asleep in his couch sitting next to me till 2-3 am. He used to be so full of pride whenever anyone used to praise me. He used to be the editor of my early baby steps into writing poetry. He never had a look of disappointment when I didn’t excel so much in my medical entrance. He was dying of joy when I got into college. He must have cried when he left me teary-eyed at the beginning of my hostel-life. He must have missed me dearly when we couldn’t talk much , when I was too busy with my new friends and new found freedom. He must have relished every moment of our hours long phone calls and must have wished good things for all the successes that I taste till date. He nurtured me as a person, he laid the foundation to my universe, he devoted all his energies to me and there is nothing more phenomenal any person can do in his/her lifetime and nothing more selfless a person can act, if you ask me.

It was such a joyride being his granddaughter, his pride. And that one year when he was too ill to even remember me or talk to me must have been the most difficult phase of my life. The time when it was too difficult to even recall the last ‘proper’ chat we had was heart shattering. And the day when he was no longer between us was making my very soul so numb.

And yes I know he is always with me, his blessings are always there for me but there are somethings that you just can’t substitute from anywhere.  What if I want to listen to his adventurous bed time stories of ‘partition of India’ or his lovely ‘barber and lion’ story or his favourite lines of shayari ? Where do I get that ? yeah I would never get that.

And so no matter how crappy life gets sometimes I am deeply grateful for that magical phase of my life and attribute all my successes to him and his blessings. He is my strength during bad times and a tear of joy during good times. He is my companion in my goals and dreams. But above all of my dreams and aspirations, I would really think my life is worthy if I ever become THAT ONE PERSON for someone, what he was for me.

Love you papa. This one was for you rockstar.






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