February 10, 2016


There is a lump inside
Tearing me apart
It is shattering the walls within
To bleed profusely
To bleed smoothly.

It is a battle within myself
A war against the world
Where even the gods choose
To combat against you.

So, why don’t you call me above-god?
I don’t even leave my ashes behind
Yet, I create myself
Yet, I create you.

January 25, 2015

Letter to my daughter

Dear Girl,

Don’t let them tell you
This isn’t appropriate
For I am telling you
It will always be fine
If you do it
Not killing even the smallest part

Don’t worry about the picture
Don’t go disheartened by the opinions
What if they don’t like it?
They will always be your colors
It will always be your canvas.

Don’t care too much
But do care enough
For your life would depend
In balancing the two.

Eat, love, laugh, dress
If that is, what it is to be:

November 23, 2013


In the darkest of streets
I have taken even darker shades
They say, the filth that I carry
Shouldn't spread.

I have never left these corners
Stayed in the herd for long now
Been conspicuous 
Till' my very soul.

They come
They bare themselves
And tag me; 
With promiscuity.

July 14, 2013

Been all that and more…

A sincere 12th player
A silent observer
A stalker
A lover
Cared for and cursed by
A loner
And a seeker.

Been there
Never belonged
Judged, criticized, slapped
Compensated cruelly.

If the stray curls close to the door
Where does it belong?

Image Courtesy : Anirban Chakraborty

April 19, 2013

My World

Neatly pressed in the folds
I have kept everything safe there
You have been queer for so long
Victim of my obsessions. ..

I turn the vase to the other side
And you wonder -why.
I place them as they are
As they were...

Still you wonder-why.

You say I don't involve
Because I am so insanely involved
And I lack passion in life
You see- passion it is
I possess deep inside...

I turn the vase to the other side
As it were in the neatly pressed folds
And all my world together
Sits on a table quiet.


Thanks Sim. Bro, you helped me come out of the block.

March 22, 2012


Crimson hues
Trickling down from the very being
Fresh it is
And growing deep
Intrinsic... Pure...

The silvers chime
Striking melodies
Of numerous joys.
The ornate attire
Depicting the bliss
Is a display of patterns within.

Infinite emotions sprout
From a restless soul
Yet tranquilized by a magical silence around
That leaves no space for words.

December 5, 2011

Black Magic

Everything fails here
Fails utterly
Fails bitterly...

The confessions that I seek to make
Are so dark
Perhaps the ink would read
Only black.

The magic that amused once
Now torments the very soul
With the name that it is given;

I still love it
As nothing will change now;
For what I have is black,
What will remain is black.

December 4, 2011


He is utterly shabby. Couple of loose entangled coils in place of hair, projected randomly in all directions. What I was  first mistaken of as boots were actually socks torn up at ankles and  pulled onto the jeans that made them look such. He wore snug fit dark green jumpers. I am of opinion that they were light green, once upon a time. One eyed I guess, as he could barely open the other, wrinkled skin which had been creased darker with dirt. Old fellow, lost sanity...

 He came to our hostel canteen quite frequently. An object of interest for long, I wanted to know about him. At times when I went to collect my tea he would make way for me politely. I was amused by his mannerisms. Discussing about him with my friend I made up my mind that I would learn more about him the next time I come across and also provide some monetary help as well.


He was ordering tea while me and my friends also chatted over cuppa. But sadly I only had fifteen bucks but still, I and a friend rushed after him...caught him at a distance. I panted clutching the money tightly inside my sweatshirt pocket. My friend initiated;

"Hello ! Humein aapse baat karni thhi?"
"Haan boliye?" He replied in a weak voice.
I got numb, had never heard him talk. Couldn't judge if he was normal. I thought he might grow violent anytime.

"Aap kahan rehte hain?" We asked.
"Yahin peeche."
"Peeche kahan."
"SOL (School of open learning) mein." He answered instantly.

I was not sure whether to give him the mean amount or not, I was still clutching it tightly.

"Aap kya karte hain?"  We continued our kya- kyun- kaise  stuff.

"Main registrar huun." He offered us tea which he was holding. We politely declined. I was sure by now that he had lost his sanity. Yo man ! I buy it, you are a registrar. I am queen of Jingalala. 

"Acha, aap kya karte hain wahan?"(See again!) I pestered him, scrutinizing tad too much.

He was a bit irritated by that time I guess, he began;
"Listen ! I am a registrar at SOL. What do you think I must be doing. I work there. The designated work." He spoke this in English with an accent far superior than mine, the money which I had been clutching tightly all this while, dropped inside. It must have taken a humble corner. I did not know what to say now.

 "Oh ! We just wished to speak to you". I flaunted my English this time.
"Alright ! It was nice talking to you people." He departed then.

My friend shouted at me " Saali tu issko pandrah rupaye degi? Wo tujhe abhi sau ka note nikaalke deta! Aur chaar baatein aur sunata!"

I came back, my head sunk low. One of my friend's friend told us on our way back that he lives on streets. Rich once, has given most of his property in charity. These days he writes articles for some magazine or like. And also helps students with assignments who know him around.

What do I say now? World's strange ! 

I would think twice before offering someone money from now on.
And yes, next time If I need some help for assignment,I know where to hit. SOL ! :D

August 23, 2011

Amidst everything, I get old.

Random steps
Nowhere they lead to
A journey alone
And destination unknown.

The birds there
Must have told you
With them for so long
But to them you don’t belong…

Walking for years now
On same path
I’ve made a mark
Of my presence

No, I’m not complaining
I was made for you
(To be ruined by you).

You have not forgotten me
Just can’t
I believe in it
I believe in the silence around.


The tiny little droplets
Slowly drip away
But remember one thing;
Amidst everything
I get old.

May 30, 2011

Not know...

The world looks sunny
Ain't it?
Brightly colored fun
And the Ocher grim
But behind all this intent
A monster glares at you.

You've been a kid
And wham!
It pounces...

It ruined you
Impregnated you with truth
Hard and bitter.


Don't snatch the innocence away
Don't show me the insides
I wish to not know...