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Showing posts from July, 2012

I wait...

I know not what I lack,

I know not why I cry,

Since the day you are gone

Everyday I die.

Passing through a dark phase,

I do not know if it will end.

Telling my bleeding heart

In this phase I must blend.

“Saying sorry will not do”,

That is what you told,

But to endure your absence

My heart is not that bold.

I have nothing that

Money cannot buy,

But now these words

Seem so wry,

For I can not have you,

Standing by my side,

I begged you that day

But you did go away,

My faults did not give

You a reason to stay,

I should have stopped you,

I can not bear this pain,

Yes, I need you

To be in my life again,

I put my hand on my chest,

And claim today,

I will wait for you

Till my death day,

In heaven we will meet,

This promise I will keep.

Please, come back to me

How long will we weep?

Forgiveness I ask for,

Before you, my soul stands,

My head is down and

I am with folded hands.

Restless I am not,

I state this with faith,

From today till forever

For you I will wait...

What Do You Know Of Love?

You claim to know all Of love and of her.. You claim her love ain’t true.. So today I ask you..

 What do you know of love? When you have never had a dream of her?
What do you know of her? When you have never longed for her love?
Oh, What do you know of love? When your heart don’t ache When she cries her heart out?
What do you know of her? When you notice her smile But not the drop of tear in her eye?
What do you know of love? When your heart ain’t worthy enough to be loving?
What do you know of her? When you could never feel the pain she’s been hiding?
You claim to know all Of love and of her.. You claim her love aint true..

Maybe coz she’s not like you..

Tears of blood

[The poem is written as a tribute and encouragement to the unfortunate rape victims of the society who are fighting every day to live with dignity. This poem is published in Read In Park]

Never had known pain, As I do now… Never knew what grief is, But I do now…
When the morning sun knocks on my window, I weep silently recalling that loathsome night, When the rays fall on my wet pillow, I wail in self pity ending another sleepless night.
Every morning I look into the mirror To see the detested face, Robbed, touched, raped, I now loathe my every single trace.
I had begged for help, Had cried for mercy, But no one took a single step, That night to rescue me
They jeered at my pain, Laughed at my plight, “Men” they called themselves Those beasts of that night
The fear that arouse in me, I fear it may bring my death Growing day by day, It questions my each breath
The bruises on my face will heal, But the trauma evoked The scars on my heart Might take forever to be cured
I refuse to touch m…

The Fire within …

This poem of mine is published in an International Anthology titled "A World Rediscovered" edited by Jean LeBlanc.. My first published anthology :)

Wounding me,

Ripping me,

Here it...

Read more at A World Rediscovered .

Better than Your X, is she?
Just turned on channel VH1 yesterday and saw this single by VJ Anusha. The song is in my lips ever since.

 A great lyricist it must be, because the lyrics is awesome and makes total sense. A nice video is put up to match with the tempo.

Well, a part of the video seemed a bit clichéd – yes, I am talking about the part where Anusha and the back dancers wear a uniform like teen school going girls. This reminds me of the biggest hit yet debut by Britney- Hit me baby one more time. A school girl in uniform dancing and singing for a guy can never be warded off. Thus, the thought comes to my mind if the same mantra is used here in “Better than your X” to make it a hit.

 Traces of Avril’s influence can also be found in the lyrics too.
Well, it won’t be wrong to say that Anusha is the new Indian popstar going International.
Wish she stood out in the video whereas at some parts of the song her make-up and clothing did not di…

The Whiskey Lullaby

This story was published in an e-magazine Word Splash in its issue of July 2012,

We watched him drink his pain away, A little at a time, But he never could get drunk enough, To get her off his mind …
Pain or love wasn’t the reason why Prakash was the town drunk. “It’s my passion,” he would quote while listening to the Whiskey Lullaby,” It depicts my freedom.” *   It was two years ago, in Swindon during his working years, when Prakash was first introduced to liquor. He became a lover ever since. Gin was the drink he chose as his first love, Tequila came second. His decision of never marrying or rather being away from women was well-known by all his chums. He would recite it every time someone asks him to settle down and get married.

 A year went by quite peacefully with his “principles”- be drunk, spend all the money, come home after midnight, and never tie the knot. It was a call from the City Hospital, Dehradun which changed his way of livin…

The Ailing Abode

This story was published in an e-magazine Fried Eye 15th July 2012

The green fields growing tea plants look so dull today without you around. I wonder where you might be these days. It’s been a month that I last saw you. And when I returned today you are nowhere to be seen.
Our last meeting was the day I left for Mumbai. That day, I could see the tears wetting the face of my mother. I could see the pain in my father’s eyes. I could see my sister crying near the Banyan Tree, hiding from me. What I could not see was the anxiety in your eyes, the upcoming peril you were about to face as I leave.
I cared not of what the neighbors would say, or what my father’s fellow factory workers would say. I cared not of what my mother’s fellow tea plant workers would think, nor of what my sister’s to-be spouse would think. Nor did I care about you whose life, I knew not, was only a day more since I left.
With bones of legs half broken and fingers…

The Plait Problem- the story of my journey from Hair Hassles to Trendy Tresses

It was two weeks ago when I and two of my friends had planned to spend a night at Betty’s house. It was never in my comfort zone to stay away from home- partly because I am a shy person and do not talk much with anyone except Lisa, but mostly because of my diffident nature. It was my hair problems that stole my positivity away when I turned 20 and interposed diffidence in me.
It was my sophomore year when the problems began, and when my fellow mates were looking their very best I had to lose a million hair strands each day due to travelling to and fro college which was almost 11kms away from my home.  I had been avoiding people ever since.
One day Lisa bought a hair straightener and suggested me to use it. Indeed it worked its magic and I looked good, for a change, but only for a few hours. I liked the way I looked after straightening my hair and decided to do this every day. This went on for a week until one morning my Mom pointed out that my hair had lost its lustre too…