The shadow..

There under the sun, she waited for the moon to come,

Her eyes trying to stare directly at the scorching treat.

And then she turned around and started walking away,

only to see her shadow also retreat.

In a playful mood, she began to run,

as if to make her shadow separate from herself.

She twisted, turned and then started walking fast,

but the shadow just wouldn’t leave her cast.

But finally she was struck with a way of sending it away from her,

she walked into her room and put the light on-

and lo and behold, the shadow was gone.

Her eyes widened at the realisation that,

in life she did not need a super solution to treat things,

What was needed was only a little light and all the problems would take WINGS.




Her ecstasy did not know any bounds
Her smile today felt warm
She talked beauty today
Her beauty did the talking today
And then something suddenly struck her
Her eyes were groped with an evident pain
She looked around her and saw so many people
She looked around her but felt no people
So now she understood her plight
Her plight which a few minutes back gave her delight
There under the starry sky as these thoughts crossed her
She hung her head low and spoke a silent prayer
Then started walking in a direction not knowing where
And today for the first time, she wished the company of a company.
And today the first time, she did not desire NO COMPANY.


Polka dots..

She wore a lovely dress with red polka dots
And looked out of the window staring into the sky,
Gaping at the beauty of the moon
And the serenity of it all that thereth lied.
Her lipstick still fresh, her make up perfect
She climbed the window sill and started looking for something,
Then walked to and forth and jumped back down.
She walked to her mirror and smiled then frowned.
She wondered about her sudden love for polka dots,
Then changed into her home clothes and went to sleep.
That day she had so much on her mind,
She even forgot to go for the PARTY!!


The rose in the book.

She picked up a book at the library
It was yellow and crumpling.
Its dog eared ends spake a story
Its water hardened pages defined its end.
She loved the smell, the aura of an old
She loved the feel, the touch of it whole.
And just as she began to read the book,
Her eyes lighted up.
For there in the pages there was,
A dry red rose parked and telling a story of a lover old.
She picked up the flower
It crumpled like it melted
Threw it away and instead planted,
Another rose but this time pink
For her story this was, and it was a little jinxed.
She read the book and let the flower be
Then returned the book to the library.
20 years thence she re-issued the book in her name
Only to find her pink rose gone
For another reader had now put there,
A red red rose with a big big thorn
She pricked herself with it
and immediately realised
That leaving a pink rose was not wise
By doing that she had left behind,
Hatred and confusion for the next in line.
For the pink flower had to be thrown away
Because it had turned dirty pink black,
Coz pink is confusion,
Coz pink is everything the red one could never have LACKED.


The mirror and her.

English: : A mirror, reflecting a vase. Españo...

She looked at herself in the mirror, couldn’t see anything at all.

Her image had faded away, her existence was gone.

She stood there perplexed and pondered on just one question-

“When her image was not there, why was her existence still on?”.

There was no answer, not even a hint

She looked for an answer, or let’s say imagined one

The solution was rightly right there

and yet provided by none.

That day she did see an image in that mirror,

But ignored to accept it as hers.

Over the years she had changed so much,

She had become almost what she had once yearned.

And yet that day when she looked at herself,

She expected to see that little old girl

Who would run around and get what she wanted

Buy it, steal it, earn it, the way she wanted.

Today as she stood at a crossroad unable to do either,

She wanted that little girl to appear in the mirror

and yet again teach her the art of getting what she thought should be hers,

the art of getting who she thought should be hers,

the art of being HER.


Before she could speak

She opened her mouth and began to say something,

Then shut up suddenly and went back to her thoughts.

This had been her state of mind since a while now,

This was how much she was distraught.

She articulated her thoughts and ideas,

trained them to think the way the world thought right.

She wanted to think her own way,

But the world did not find that correct and bright.

Her eyes said something, her heart felt something else,

Her lips spelled something, her soul was put to rest.

Her quest in life was now shaped question mark

Her zest in life was now an exclamation mark.

And with these and many more emotions,

She gathered herself and turned around,

Only to face yet another question,

Only to face yet another FROWN.



Life is a game, cherish it.
No matter what road you take,
There will be stones and gravel.
The road will be broken and sometimes beyond repair.
And yet, keep the hope alive,
Rise to the occasion and shine,
Because somewhere there exists a beauty
that is sure to enchant me.
A light, sure to guide me.
A hand, sure to hold ME.


Her Cupboard!

Cupboard with stuff

She opened the cupboard when she moved in the apartment,

was happy to see the elaborate partitions, some big- some small.

The interiors of the cupboard were fancily divided,

to acccomodate her life, her clothes, her all.

She started arranging and unpacking

And set the shelves all beautifully.

Was happy to see so much space,

And finished arranging her stuff tactfully.

Today its three years from that day,

and as she opens her almirah to pull out a pair of socks,

she can’t find anything right, its all wrong,

mixed up and just a view of messy blocks.

She had mixed up everything during the last three years

not one thing where it originally was.

Now everything was in the form of a ball of things

all beauty gone, all cleanliness taken wings.

She sat down panting and still looking,

looked around, wondered and started deliberating.

Her life, she felt,  was like her cupboard-

She started out fresh, sorted & arranged,

Yet, today all systems were mis- wired & un- addressed.

Items of one compartment were in the other,

Items of another compartment were nowhere either.

And as she looked for at least one of the socks of the pair,

She found her life stand right there, glaring at her and give her its cold STARE!