Monday, December 22, 2008

Inside my room
I am naked, bare
unclothed, exposed.

Inside my room
thoughts and feelings
lie outside my body.

Inside my room
is poetry
is music

Inside my room
is paper and pencil
to hear me when no human will.

Inside my room
I, Me, Myself
are in harmony.
arrested moments
in the flux of time
challenge linearity.
my nostalgic self
journeys back beyond
borders of finite, limiting time
lives again in memory intensely
what it cannot in reality.
this moment too
will soon be past
recorded forever
on the film of heart and mind
a tenuous, fragile link
it wavers, but never quite breaks.
this place binds me to itself
this is where I'll always "belong"
of distance, time, even people --
born of a desperate state, this poem was written as a sort of catharsis... to purge the excess of emotion... it comes across as pretty cliched and hackneyed, but I am still posting it here. the couplet form at least brings in a little bit of distance, (I hope...)

Smouldering fire
agony of desire
broken heart, aflame, afire
writhes as in a seizure.

pent, unspent, it wastes away
consuming itself day after day
what will remain of this shrivelled heart?
withering, drying up, torn apart?

its grief it brought upon itself
past misdeeds don't repair themselves
passion and folly have ruined woman before this
this heart is damned, do not pity it

riddled with shame, overwhelmed by pain
it cannot accept what society ordains
it's a cancerous wound, it cannot move on
trapped in its own net, this heart is too far gone

reverberating silence blasts the heart's deep core
stifled, suppressed, lonely, heavy and sore
a tale so common and overused
still as true for me as it is for you.
another attempt at writing a sonnet...
although I am mightily pleased with my latest accomplishment, suggestions and viewpoints are most welcome...

a milk bottle for the baby
mamma's caress for little children
a fairy tale for kindergarten
or a huggy, cuddly teddy

prayer books, rosaries for rocking chair ladies
brandy, maybe, for the gentry
cigarette for the young adult-ry
a phone call for lovers and pretty lassies

As for me, I always think of you
you do not know, you do not care
the world gives me one cold rude stare
but constantly within me, there is you

Is it weakness, illusion, is it wrong
to want that for which all humans long?

Friday, November 14, 2008

Dream Terror (a sonnet)

My first sonnet ever!! I was so excietd yesterday when I wrote it!!

dunno if I succeeded though.... here it goes...

Dream Terror

Often have I had gory dreams

Of being shut up in prison, of rape

Life threatening situations with no escape

Gruesome visions that oft made me scream.

But lately I had one of unspeakable horror

It was all the effect of Wilde's book

Dorian Gray took me off the hook

The dream made me weep and shudder with terror.

The one whom I love, I planned to kill her

I planned to kill her while I slept

The grossness of this I cannot forget

Cold, cruel, bloodthirsty murder.

"Please tell me she's alive, tell me she's not dead!!"

I cried out full of shame, repugnance, dread.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

A Fruitless Search for Faith

You believe in jesus
in krishna, in ram
fasting, chanting, praying
you offer flowers to lakshmi's painted smile
taking it as benign and kind.

Faith fills voids, gaps in our selves
making us whole
fills gaps too in what we worship
Only completeness can give of
make us complete.

I have always been an atheist
agnostic, free thinker, whatever
a disbeliever.
I never believed in god.

I have faith in a woman
in pain, in fear
in times of trouble
I believe in her.

gathering shards of my broken self
filling empty spaces in me
making myself whole, through her
my image of completeness.

But a woman has no painted
I can imagine as benign and kind
she breaks me into a million shards
and I struggle to make myself whole
through her.

Ironical. Paradoxical.
Life has made me cynical.
a wry smile on my face,
I wonderwho was the bigger fool
You or I.

do give me responses!! and tell me if there are lines I should cut, edit, or change!!

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

a different take on karvachauth

I will fast fast, I am savitri
may my patidev have a long, long life.

women chanting in bright saris
rising at early dawn
passing the lota of water
waitinng for the moon, praying

women's rituals
women among themselves
where are the men anyways???
Squeezed, squahsed, pushed and punctured
no place to stand on tiptoe
no place to fall down either
breathing scarce and difficult
elbows, bags, in my face
where to keep my hands
the most awkward question
Ridiculous! Hilarious!
the absurdity of life
of a crowded delhi metro ride
the end of the journey
the doors refuse to open
How can they??!!
heat, sweat, stickiness, grime
feeling out of place and time
irritated, disgruntled
an ice cream wallah at the corner
a chocobar stick
so sweet and
so cold
melts in my mouth.
savouring it to the end
earthly troubles fly away
a satisfied smile across my face
blissful and content.
The Pied piper pipes
a melody, quaint and strange
leads me to my secret place where my heart beats to dreams
hidden from the world
dancing to music from a newer world
discovering a truer me.
paper, pencil, a place of "my own"
and enough to live on
powerful tools, necessary tools
for a daughter of Woolf


My own truth
My destiny, My self
pull me, tug at me
out of the prison chains
I must follow
Let me be
Don't construct me, constrain me
in chains of femininity
But don't construe me either
in terms of antifemininity
I must be
what I was born to be
I must break free
Let me be


car lights flash swiftly past
puddles glisten in the dark night
the long road winds, a black ribbon
faceless, nameless, shapeless people
the masses, the designated titles
I. nobody, anonymity
waiting to cross the dark road
shrouded in obscurity.

river rain

Raging, roaring
a creature possessed
breaking bounds
the river turns into ocean
the peepul tree dances, the sky comes alive.

sublime, awesome
ecstatic epiphany
rajghat river
river rain.

Monday, June 16, 2008


Gnarled, huge, knotted, tree trunks
Grand old banyan trees spreading, an entire colony
True guardians of the earth, these sentinels
stand watch, century after century
Witnessing .... Time
I bow my head, god is here
in these temples of our grandfathers.

On a visit to Baircha Lake

Arms entwined around branches

I become part of the tree

Swinging, swaying with the breeze

hair floating, branches waving


The rhythmic movement reminds me

of the rowing oars on a boat

Down below, the waves lap and dash against the rocks.

The Mind

It is a lazy ass
a snobbish, egotistical brat
a rich, spoilt pig
a selfish prig
the human mind.
It hates to upset itself
by working, thinking
or contemplating unplesantness
sees lusting bastards rape a screaming woman
fanatics torturing innocents for religion
children going hungry for lack of food
worlds of constant fear, without joy
Says "Horrible! Terrible!
Such an insane world!"
Its duty done
a minute later
"I'm hungry. Is there something good to eat?"

A Pause

a comma, a full stop, period
it makes you pause
it makes you think
it makes you feel
and understand
and relate with what is
it makes a poem
a poem.
All because of a nothingness
an emptiness
a silence
called a pause.


Feeling makes me human
Feeling is why I am I
not that table, bed or broken stone
(Though even tables, beds and broken stones
have stories of their own to tell)
I would rather feel
too much
too quickly
love too much, cry too much
get hurt, angry, pain
too much
than to not feel.
to unfeel.
to stop all feeling.
Dying inside
Like a hollow tree
Indifference, apathy
scare me into a scream of terror
Living death. Burning in hell.
Intense feeling of any kind
I can relate with
But an empty absence of feeling
resists all relation
If only we could blend
feeling with thinking, feeling with knowing
feeling with learning, and feeling with living!

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

You have grown
into me
you are part of me
your words are my words
your tones and gestures
my tones and gestures
the way you dress, is the way I dress
How do I separate
How do I escape from you now
without losing my self?

May 2008

( do you think I could compile all these and get a book published?? or are they fit for the waste paper basket?)
Every word you speak
is a spear thrusting
forcing itself into my body
wounding it, poisoning it
the wound overflows as tears
and as words on this page.
The memory of those words
comes back, again and again and again
Each time I replay them
new arrows create fresh wounds
they fester, they grow
A dull, heavy, deaddening weight
a load of lead
sinks deep into me
and settles there.
Scabs will cover the wound over time
and heal it partially
Smiles hide the tears
Light chatter conceals the pain
But the scars will always remain
The load of lead will always remain
They have become
a part of me now.

may 2008
The doors are shut
Locked out, I wander
over the unknown, frozen terrain
not knowing where to go,
which way to go, stumbling
not knowing how to cross
frozen sleet, landslides, hail
searching for food, living
a hand to mouth existence.
Carrying a burden on my back
of guilt, of fear, of unattainable desire
of self doubt, reproach, of hurt
Afraid of being laughed, mocked it, rejected
Aware of being terrifyingly

May 2008
Without You
I don't know who I am
or where I belong
Lost, uprooted, drowning
I need to believe, keep faith in you
to live,survive, to exist
It is a child's faithtrusting its mother even after a beating
It is a child's belief implicitly believing even after betrayal
I hold on fast to my "illusions"
But I am scared. Oh! I am so scared
I am so sorry I hurt you
I know it must be very hard for you
But don't you see it is not easy to break this faith
Perhaps, impossible?
Crisp, crinkly paper, hot
straight from the xerox machine
or from the printer.
Smooth, uncreased clothes
hot from the iron
The smell of dry grass
a dry leaf, on crumpling
Cool water on the parched earth
a fresh hot roti
a bed at night to tuck into
a splendid sunset, a golden moon
the smile of a child
extraordinary pleasures
of ordinary life

May 2008

( are poems like this one and the mango tree one (the one just before this) better or are the highly emotionally charged ones better?? I've been wondering...)
Laden boughs
Hang heavy, thick with blossom
creamy-white profusions
sweeeter than perfume
yet wilder...
Here and there, green mangoes
peep through your arms
green parrots nestle within you
for close comfort
oh beautiful lady!
pregnant with the hope of thinsg to be
your loveliness
is too much
for this summer evening.

May 2008

Sunday, May 25, 2008

I had the find of my life yesterday... being such a poetry freak...

I bought my dream book y'day... a poetry collection of Alice Walker!! wo-oooo!!!! you should have seen my face when I saw it in the shop... I am so, so crazy...

The second was a poetry collection by sylvia plath!! just as good!! (though I doubt if I'd like anything as much as the former)

can't believe I actually "own" and "possess" books like these... I thought you just saw them in bookshops and libraries!
Frozen Russian snows
Bitter cold
a weary traveller
bundled in a shawl
selling gay carpets.
He has been travelling...
travelling all night
Lines on his face,
the look in his eyes
speak more than my words
resting but briefly against a wall
scribbled over with
meaningless nothings
What is life for him?
The nonsense? the gay carpets?
Or the look in his eyes?

September 2006 (written during the poetry workshop with Vivek narayanan)
made eternal
a moment

helps me see
within me,
without me

Wide blues and greens
Spreading trees
Twittering birds

Within me, doubts
fears of relationships
with each one of you

'What is" for me, is not
for you. Already, it is changing...
I am thinking...

september 2006 (written during the poetry workshop with Vivek Narayanan)

Friday, May 23, 2008

Illicit desires
phantoms of my brain
I made them my reality
held them close to my heart
clung on to them
did not want to let them go.

In most private moments
when I'm undressing, or bathing
when I'mdreaming
you are there with me
you live inside my head
all the time

Do you have two existences?
The real you... and the
you inside my head-- it's scary!
I wonder if that makes you
actually there with me
in secret, private,personal moments

And then, I see the real you
you avert your gaze, walk past me
and leave me wondering...

May 2008
a heart is bleeding, breaking
a wound is overflowing
tears are falling

this girl could never learn
that there are mistakes in life
that can never be amended

this girl could never accept
that what hurts can be here to stay
she fought too much against it

this girl could never believe
that the impossible in impossible
she was foolish enough to hope

this girl could not change
the centre of her universe
she was as a worshipper, at a shrine

this girl could never understand
how someone else could change
so much. oh, so much!

this girl could never realise
that someone had a right to withdraw
a right to dislike her, a right to hate her

This girl was also a kid
who said 'I didn't mean to do it
Please don't shove me away for it!'

The cars on the road are blowing their horns
people in their homes are eating and sleeping
the earth,the planets, are rotating, revolving

a heart is bleeding, breaking
a wound is overflowing
tears are falling

thirs girl wanted more than what she had
this girl must pay for her sins
this girl must suffer.

March 2008

Jealousy is the hunger
when I can't reach the apple on the tree
Jealousy is the thirst
when I know I must go to bed without water
and I see you feasting on apples
and I see you drink of the clear stream
this hunger is growing at me from inside, consuming me
this thirst is making me a dry, shrivelled pea
it's making be bitter and morbid
I avert my gaze, I cannot look
cannot see you feasting merrily
Once upon a time I had all I could want
of apples and cold water
I like you, you're nice, and lovable and cute
I wish all good, no harm for you
I so wish I could have red apples and cold water.

March 2008
a broken heart
an emptiness in the soul
an aching void
searching, yearning, desiring
completeness, fullness
In vain. Infulfilled. Unsatisfied.
At once too empty and too full
Words I don't allow myself to say
Feelings I don't allow myself to feel
Trapped. Imprisoned.
Condemned to incompleteness.

February 2008
Missing You

Lost in dreams, memories
Sweet reveries of mine own
Missing you.
Perhaps I prefer to be lost.
reality is harsh. reality hurts.

I want to tell you that I mis you
i want to tell you that I love you
But I cannot do either
Perhaps I prefer to be lost
reality is harsh, reality hurts.

'Control! Restrain!', I tell myself
'This is nor right, you cannot do this'
I wish i could tell you that I want to be with you
Perhaps I prefer to be lost
Reality is harsh. Reality hurts.

I remember how you looked, what you said
I remember how we talked, how we walked
Didn't matter what we did, so long as it was you
Perhaps I prefer to be lost
Reality is harsh, Reality hurts.

'Stop it! This is wrong!' I say to myself
But it doesn't make me stop loving you
I will always love you and miss you and care for you
Perhaps I prefer to be lost
Reality is harsh. Reality hurts.

I want you to read this. I want you to end this.
It is wrong, but I cannot forget it
I may, in time, learn to live with this.
But perhaps I prefer to be lost
Reality is harsh, Reality hurts.

February 2008
Brown, slim
a teardrop face
tall, but not too tall
slender, but not too slender
a near-perfect figure
naked, bare
just the right fullness
a young woman
a girl turning into a woman
I look at the curves
the breasts, the waist, the thighs
the long fingers, the arms, the legs
long, soft, hair, black
falls down thick, till the waist
caressing my bare, bare body
Sensual. Evocative.
I gaze into the mirror
my eyes look into mine...
and I fall in love
with Me!

February 2008
Bright gems and stones
encased in silver, gleaming
Long, Dangling. Irresistable.

Two years of dreaming and waiting
and watching and yearning and longing
My silver earrings-- a dream come true

Finally, a reality. I, the proud owner.
MY silver earring collection.
I loved them.I loved them too much.

I loved them eachd ay as I took them out
and put them on. Reveled in them.
Never took them for granted.

Twelve or thriteen pairs of them
in all kinds of colours. I lost them
I lost them, all at one go

My fault. My mistake. I was stupid
I was dumb. And I lost all of them.
That doesn't make it any better.

I was addicted to them, felt almost
naked without them. wanted to kill myself
when I found that I had lost them.

Silver earrings are trivial. Life goes on.
And yet, I would too gladly exchange
this poem, for my silver earrings.

January 2008

hot, strong desire
engulfs me, consumes me
moves from the pits
up, up, filling my mouth
fills each pore and core of me

all the more powerful
for being unexpressed
I shake and tremble with desire
My lips, open and parted
The words die away, unspoken

Unattainable desire
Passionate desire
Desire. Desire. Desire.

24th april 2007

(wrote this one day before my paper 7 final exam in BA Eng Hons 3rd year, cos I was driven to despair... and got a 63 in that paper!! so, if you want a 1st div, stop studying and write poems on the exam eve!)

In deep despair
when there's none to care
when I'm trapped or scared
pulled to pieces, pulled
dead, battered, broken
and all alone.

Then, Poetry, it is you, my friend
it is always you in the end
to lift me, to save me, to cure and to heal
like soothing balm on open wounds you feel
you take me to beauty, to ecstasy
to moments of perfect epiphany

I owe you much but little can I give
I strive to recah you but little can I climb
A humble request, oh, poetry, do not leave this child...

may 2007
a morning can be dismal
or heavy, or weepy woeful

a morning can be mundane
hard work and toil, work and toil

a morning can be a poem
a beautiful epiphany

Did the morning change?
Or was it me, I wonder

Or was it the spark, the fire
rebirth that made the difference, I wonder

may 2007

Rolling waves of memory
carshing, flooding
consuming, engulfing

Flitting leaves of memory
page after page
reopening worlds

a fragile, tenuous link forms memory
with the lost reality that is no more
will be no more, will be no more

falling, falling memories
nostalgia welling up
threatening to overtake reality

a bitter-sweet smile
accepting the truth of life
yet cherishing the unforgettable...

may 2007
burst within me
overcast, overflow

a torrent of emotions
engulfs me. I lash out
against the world.

Hush, silence. In the calm
remorse overwhelms
once the storm recedes.

Groping for answers
who am I? what am I?

may 2007

Welcome ! Join in!

Everyone is most welcome and more than welcome to post, comment and join in, pls!! I wanted to have good discussions... what is the point of a blog after allif I am talking to myself! I can do THAT without one...
I don't want the "admiring bog" that Vikram Seth's frog had "frog and the nightingale", (remember class 10th?) , I just want you to join in, any which way!