Destiny, she’d once thought drove it all and always,
And now says he, we write our own, we only.
She’s giving it a thought, and trying to play the idea,
Whether or not writing it, taking responsibility.

Fate, karma, luck, eternity-
All words denoting a lifetime of choices.
Whether or not independent and unrelated,
Intertwined with destiny somehow, its offshoots, its voices.

The question now, is not necessarily destiny itself,
It is reason, of the thought, and the occurance.
The question also being, whether she is destined to understand the reason itself,
And whether reason in itself is strong enough to reach A CONSEQUENCE.

– Stuti



A thought then crossed her mind,
She wished she could go back.
A wish then marred her heart,
She hoped for that spark.

That little girl in the garden,
She didn’t know what she wanted.
She hopped, and skipped,
Her happiness, her youth, as if she flaunted.

It so happened that one day she suddenly grew,
Surprisingly knowing it all too!!
That garden no longer somehow existed,
Her wishful fancies, now pricked and twisted.

She looked for a reason,
So all the change would make sense.
And despite all the practice of trying to be reasonable,
Found it all pretense.

So more and more she tried to interpret,
This riddle, this situation.
Each time sadly failing miserably,
And yet went on christening better explanations.

And then finally it struck her,
Why she couldn’t so far think straight.
First happy then sad, she was glad to know,
It was her own prejudices that shadowed her reason and HER FATE.


Change but why?

An age undefinable,
A period unidentified,
Equations changed,
Without a clue, without being glorified.

Her ideals she wanted to wrap,
And throw them in the trash.
Her lessons she wanted to dump,
And term them ‘system crash’.

Maybe the world will never know the real reason,
But could she care less?
Maybe the world will mock on her actions,
But she had her own interests at the behest.

She was once proud of it all,
But now couldn’t detest the feeling more.
Once a champion of these situations,
Her heart now inconsistently wept like a drum roll.

Too much pain all around,
She chose what she had to.
Adorned a smile pretty to hide her tears,
The girl now determined THROUGH AND THROUGH.



Sometimes when her heart is not at peace,
She doesn’t see reason.
And then at other times, when she doesn’t see reason,
Her heart refuses to be at peace.

As far as reasons go,
There is no black and no white.
And only black and white
Give her reasonableness.

Caught in the web of reasons,
She weighs her options everyday.
Sought in the tasks of everyday,
Her options give her hints for the reasons.

Reasons, options, hints combined,
Her heart skips a beat and her face shines,
She laughs on the many complexities of life,
As the debate on peace and reason is yet again left BEHIND!!



A strong current of water,
A high tide from the sea,
A mighty big animal,
And a giant fantasy.
All of these may be simple things,
But manage to scare one or the other in their own way.
They’ve changed many a lives,
But do they realise that not many like their ways?
Or maybe they were right too,
But only they had their reasons to be harsh.
One did not see the force behind the strong current
One did not see the anger of the under currents.
The mighty big animal was just laughed at for being big,
The fantasy was the imagination of a small ached kid.
In life, the reasons of two persons may not match,
But that does not make one view good and the other view bad.
Sometimes I like a thing without a reason too,
But that doesn’t mean I don’t care or think about things as much as you do.
You think your way, and I think mine,
But isn’t that actually good, coz we end up seeing the picture from all ends of the line?
My reason-ability is my perception of things,
And while I have high regard for your sense of reason,
I appreciate that my reasons have a reason TOO.



She stifled for reasons unknown
Her heart sang some song in a non- chalant tone
She wanted to sing, she wanted to dance
Her throat refused to co- operate, her legs did not give her a chance

She was happy that day,
For reasons mysterious
She was jolly that day
For which she had reasons of her own.

But as she danced, she was reminded of someone
But as she sang, she was reminded of that one
These people had broken her heart time and again
These people did not matter to her, but still managed to give her pain.

So, she talked, she talked, she talked some more
And gradually it turned into a whisper, a whimper and then nothing more
Her ideas, her pen, her stories untold
Her pain, her shallowness, and fears UNKNOWN.