Desperate to defy the truth,
Trembling hands searched empty cupboards
To find what once was left behind.
To rewind the past is easy
But with the wind, it’s another tale.

The emptiness left her fingers dried
And let the fear sweep inside.
Memory crept in with her fear
Only to remind what she had
Forgotten in the road of time.

And then began the tale of wind-
The tale of his secret wicked wing.
Not long ago, the wind found a
Lover under the bright sunrise.
Enchantment was their attraction.

Impossibilities brought charm
and she chased the wind in the blindness
of her pure love. Clueless of what
she left behind. She chased the wind
for what she thought was her true love.

Bewitched by the cloak of happiness,
she left her home burning to find love.
The one who once feared Abandonment
left her loved ones with no second
thought, only to find love.

Days later, on seeing the bewitched face
of her lovers. She found her way
with a broken heart. Only to find
the miasma of abandonment
that she alone had left.

On her way back she thought that her mother
could heal her broken heart.
But she was long dead by the news of
abandonment by her daughter.
She was left alone with emptiness

Alone with no one to heal her heart.
With years, she learnt how to live alone
but could not learn to heal  her pain.
And so she is left alone
to brood like a dog.

Waiting to meet her end now,
she wonders on the possibility
of what if she had stopped and realised
that her very first memory
was her true happiness in itself.


Cold whispers from the past
revisits the present
as ghosts of the future.
I held my blanket closer
and relived those memories.

Moved away with times
‘they can’t haunt me from far’
whispered the fear stricken heart.
But when enemy wears a mask of a friend
it replaces your own shadow.

Cries go in vain, for those
who could hear are long gone.
Loved ones have left and what’s left
behind are their ghost faces that have
resided in my present.

As I grew up I learnt my lessons,
stayed away from people in fear
to turn myself as a ghost.
My childhood ghosts have turned the memories
to ashes and tales to darkness.

I hide behind my bed like a brooding dog
I long for love but I fear all along
because the thing it has taken away
are the one I still long for.


 Mrs. Wife

Wearing twenty kilos of a dress
I left my parents nest, for you.
I moved away from my dreams
became Mrs. Wife for you, my love.

The ring from you that once brought life
has now chained my feet from your house.
Those flowers that once smelled my name
have found their way to the bin.

I was called an angel by loved ones
but now I’m referred to as
I left my previous life for you, my love.

My silence was turned as an agreement
and bruised hand turned as clumsiness.
This ring brought a new life that
entitled life in hell, as your wife.

When I tried to fight for my life
I was disposed as an old bag,
for other dogs to feed on
and replaced with a new Mrs. Wife.

I’m Not That Girl

Maria hid behind the door and waited for her friends to leave. She couldn’t handle their company any longer. When no one was looking she ran down the stairs. She didn’t stop until she found an empty floorwhere she could sit and cry her heart-out. The emptiness of the corridors helped her to pour her heart out without fear and gather courage for the day yet to come.

Silence was her best friend; troubles could flow out from her heart without raising an eyebrow. Her trust in people was long lost yet the reason she lived was to bring back trust in people’s lives. Her tears were witness to her strong will and soft heart yet the world around her didn’t appreciate her beauty.

Even though silence cannot be deceptive, this time it proved to be wrong. As she cried in silence, there was another soul present. His face hidden behind his book and his body reflected his carefree attitude. She wouldn’t have felt his presence in the corridor if hehadn’t commented on her broken heart.

“You cry for things which are not there in this world.Why not give the world what you want to see in it?” he said .

His unwelcomewords reminded her of anincident from her past. Years back she had been in the same place when someone from the shadows had said the same thing. Though her memory was unclear shehad never been able to forget that line. It gave her life a purpose.

His one comment had made her change her way of living. She lived to give what she never found in people. She worked to give hope and trust in the lives of others. This boy expected her to be the same but she had changed. She believed that she had changed but he didn’t believe her.

It shouldn’t have mattered to her if he believed her or not but she couldn’t stand to see that this man who was the reason for this change in her life  couldn’t seeit. Somewhere convincing him was a struggle to convince herself. She was dying to convince herself that she had changed. She kept on shouting” I’m not that girl anymore! I’m not that girl…” but he just walked away with a smirk.

She found another reason to cry for and never felt the satisfaction of her achievement because it  depended on an other’s acceptance.

Never Ending Forever

Running behind life,
As always was I, hopeful
With a torch of hope
And a tight grip on,
Never ending forever.

I ran through the
Dark never-ending ends
With my torch of hope
Which now begins to dim
Over time .

Over this journey,
Now I realize,
That I have spent
All my life behind it.

With the last spark of light,
I lost my grip on
My never-ending forever,
Now I’m left in darkness,
Now I’m filed with darkness.

Life through a Transparent Glass

It is said that first impression is the last impression but some people are not given the chance to leave their first impression. They are just meant to live within the lines of our biased perception. We view this world and its people wearing our tinted glasses which give us a biased view. Rural India faces these perceptions the most.

In a recent workshop by Subhash Palekar on Spiritual Farming another pair of translucent glass of mine broke. The general perception of farmers was very different from the ones I saw. I’ve always been made to imagine that a farmer is a man wearing a kurta and a dhoti, who is a gavar and unaware and helpless towards the misery of life.

India is a country whose major occupation is farming yet the perception of farmers is so poor. This workshop was an eye opener as the gathering was a huge population of farmers who understood the seriousness of the occasion and wanted to help themselves. They wanted to live a stable life and provide basic necessity to their family. These farmers were different from the ones I’ve heard about, they didn’t sit back and expected the government to free them from their misery rather they travelled long distances to learn and to improve their lives. They didn’t look weak to commit suicide if one of their crops failed whereas their eyes reflected strong will to turn their fate. They were warriors, not weak souls who would run away from their problems.

Mr. Palekar blamed the farmer’s living situation for the increase in number of suicide cases and not their weak will. He said that the heavy debt is the main reason for farmer to end their life. Farmers take loans to cover expenses during a time of necessity or calamity but instead of repaying the load they take more loan to cover another necessity during a calamity. I’m starting to believe that this is not a suicide but a murder since they are forced to end their life. It is a murder and our ignorance has made us responsible for this crime.

These tinted glasses are responsible for my perceptions. But the question is where did I find these tinted glasses? Well, I made them from my surroundings.It’s true that our surrounding has an important role in building our perceptions.But now my translucent glasses are broken and I brought a new transparent glass that doesn’t alter anything. These pair of transparent glasses will stop me from keeping perceptions and ignoring the truth.

Broken Promise

April is the month of dust and lies.
Beneath this thick layer of earth
Lies the future of the human race.
Warmth that can survive
Harsh cold and darkness.

In the morning rays of sun
There lies a never ending hope
Flowing along with the dust,
A hope that promises perfect endings
And new beginnings.

Excitement of living in the spring
Is what I wished for…
But sadly this dust that promised
To bring life and brightness
Hid the harsh darkness within.

I was welcomed into this garden of spring,
With a promise of a better life.
Yet I’m left alone with a broken promise
Abandoned to fight,
This cold winter that’s yet to come…