Sometimes, the end of a year can be Like the middle of a sentence Advertisements


Is it better to drown, not knowing that you are drowning? Or better to drown, knowing full well your fate? Why does there have to be drowning at all, you ask? In that case my friend you are in the first case

To be an Artist

What does it mean to be an artist? Neither does a painting nor a poem nor a dance make you an artist Nor does an absence of any prove that you are not You are an artist if you have delved deep enough to know your truth And bring that truth consistently into the world,…


‘We are all connected’ This has come to mean completely different things In the last fifty years, or wait, not even Maybe twenty, or ten Difficult to say The sense of time is so warped Now that we are all connected  


Ever experienced that? Trying to talk to a friend As a train is rushing by so fast That it is a blur And its din drowns out everything That you are trying to say Or your friend is trying to hear And you just wait out for the train to pass by completely and then…

Voice & Silence

Is it worse To lose your voice Or to lose your silence I wonder as I scramble to hear either Amid the din of cross currents of gibberish Mingling into a senseless static Arrogantly setting itself To a high volume “No, you are not to my taste, senseless static Turn your volume down!” But it cannot…

The lived and unlived

When you carry the weight of enough lived lives Outweighed only by the weight of enough unlived ones When you are inhaling deeply, hoping to catch some of the latter in your lungs And exhaling to scatter the dust of the former When the lived and the unlived have stared each other down and fought…


“Are you made of the stars?” he asked She looked down and laughed, at the moonrays twinkling on her satin night-dress

That night..

The sun had set already When I heard the hooves on stone I saw them coming up our little fortress With an expression that would chill one’s bones

So many ways to love..

So many different ways to love .. like waves love the moon A heaving chest Rising and falling breaths Passionately- from a distance night after night of torment

Allow me to be cruel..

  This longing.. this bitter-sweet constant companion – that distant dream that one true north ..that moment you can almost taste amid quickened heartbeats ..when you know it will all fall in place with a profound crash that joins all the dots ..that anticipation that makes you sometimes sit up nights wondering, “When will it arrive…


Know that feeling Of being punched in the brain? One difficulty is, for the longest time You cannot find any words To describe what it feels like Till in a dark room You stumble on something by mistake And hit your head on a wall ‘Ah yes, thank you, that was the phrase I was…

Have you been young?

  The voice asks dreamily, “Have you been young?” “Yes”, I nod.. “I have earned my scars I have let love burn me down and ambition wear me out… pursued not one, but many a foolish dream fought injustice with unequivocal screams..” “Yes!”, I smile, “I have been young” “And then?” the voice teases..


वह पूछा करते हैं जो कहाँ गए थे? कब आओगे? कभी यह पूछ लेते रातों रातों क्या ढूंढते फिरते हो? यह पूछते हैं जो क्या खाया? किसके साथ? कभी यह पूछ लेते किस चीज़ की भूख सताती है?

Undone by an Artist

There I had been walking When someone pulled me aside “Oh you cannot be seen like that- You are uncovered. It’s just not decent..” And those who are never at a loss for words Fumbled and scrambled To find some that fit

White and Grey

  The smoke rose, white The cloud descended, grey Though it was not the smoke that was pure Nor it was the cloud that was dirty

The Cobweb

As I walked, as if descending a downward spiral My head full of the same words And same thoughts going viral

Where can I find them?

I want to read a book That will take me to a time Long gone by, and yet Immortalized.. still alive A time of simplicity and an age of innocence A time when bird, beast and nature were still man’s friends

Remember, Girl

Remember, Girl, when you take that stage if you have something worthwhile to say The corner looks safe, and comfortable but the center awaits

Am I?

Me See me Please, see me Please, me Please me   Isn’t it? A lot of showing Not enough looking A lot of wanting Not enough seeking  

Spring Blossoms…

Let me capture and keep you somewhere Your stay on that branch is so brief Yet the etching on the mind so strong.. in anticipation, in delight, in recollection