Stories of the Sky!



Traces of white and pink on a sultry spring evening,

Hints of grey and little deep sparks of blue,

Perhaps a fading reflection of souls so pure,

This vastness entangles with my thoughts so puerile,

Which are not harvested because they are so fragile,

We are millions gleaming,

Teeming with dark spirited vivaciousness within us,


The colossal sky must be cynically cackling at us,

For we are just millions and millions,

Swooning in euphoria,

And teeming in an unforgiving paradise.

My Musings!


This began since time meant crossing dates on calender’s which hung in my room,

Waiting eagerly for the sun to set and the day to end,

My favorite part of the entire day would be to know that there was one less day I had to wait,

To see him jump out of the taxi with his shiny black hair and a small bag,

Alas! He could always stay only for a few days,

A part of me will always remain empty,

It was always a little rough not having him around,

For my Birthdays,

“Hasn’t your Dad come?”

Me,”No,he didn’t get leave!”

For festivals,

“Hey! Where is Uncle?”

Me,”Oh this is the busiest time of the year!”

After a while,

It was like playing a broken record of the old classic songs,

The kajal would smother itself off because my eyes would become moist searching for your invisible presence,

For PTM’s,

Ma had to be the only one to listen to all my notorious doings,

Oh how angry she would be,

How she would rant about Father staying away from us,

To give the best I could ever receive.

How for gatherings with loud music playing,

Mamma and me would console ourselves by watching long gone award shows while eating our meal,

This opportunity would come many times in a year though,

Not to miss out on the tagged photos which awaited us the next day,

On Sundays,

Ma and me would be the only odd couple bargaining prices of vegetables and fish,

Secret conversations held on the phone with Father to gift Ma something on her Birthday.

Some phrases will never describe the loneliness at nights,

Or when earthquakes had become daily visitors,

I missed going out to dinner or to the movies on Sunday eve,

I missed the long drives,

I missed the spontaneous trips to the Hills just to eat Momo’s which would always be our favourite,

Well, my musings can go on and on,

Endlessly like the ocean,

The horizon only a delusion,


We adjust to different situations,

That’s how we live,

That’s how we breathe,

That’s how we grow.

They.Our Unknowing Guides.

This is a small poem about the rickshaw pullers who take us through the heartbeats of a city,showing us the unexplored and abandoned traces of a new city.


These waves of constant change,

Engulf them in spheres of captivating unreasonableness,

Witnessing unfamiliar faces,new voices,

But the old heavy feeling of receiving validation radiating from them,

Their lives are a whirlpool of catacombs,

Maneuvering through one tunnel or the other,

A certain kind of lucid dampness in their eyes I see,

They are everywhere but nowhere,

They guide us to new places we haven’t seen before,

Teaching us in more than many ways to get past the muddle of our precarious lives,

New journeys await us,

But they can’t get past the ones they encountered,

They are wrapped in a holy mess,

If we are to believe that destiny leads us through the doors of our transient being.

A machine to run their whole lives,

To care for its needs as if it is a part of his own vulnerable breathing soul,

A hint of excitement still keeps burning like the last embers keeping us warm in the dreary winter  nights,

They are everywhere but they are nowhere,

When they are gone,

Not even these roads on which treacherous journeys were undertaken,

Will tell stories of their mortal being,

Now in another time,

Bright eyes are glowing again,


Destiny smirks at these foolish humans,

Only time nods wisely,

For she knows the fate of what awaits them,

And just like this,

It goes on and on…

A Star Story!


I catch glimpses of each one of you every night when the skies are like crystal adorning my luminosity,

My constant spirit breathes a new high,

My soul is merry for the sky has asked me on a date tonight,

Oh the wind is as amazed as me!

For that surely signifies,

A beautiful aura,

Oh look! I can see you now,

The angry sun has been mellow today,

For his mother may have scolded him for not having giving you the chance to have new adventures like any other day,

Oh! But I am merry tonight!

My date has arrived faster than the BMW parked outside your house my dear friend!

Well,I see a whole lot of you going about your chores like you haven’t noticed me yet,

Some are busy sorting their muddled thoughts,

Some are busy mending their notorious actions,

Some are planning,

But little do they know these will remain plans forever,

Some are happy discovering themselves,

Some seek happiness with another bewitched soul,

Yes! you all do have a little spark of magic in yourselves,

Some are deeply involved in discovering new sights,

Relishing new tastes,

Meeting distinct habits of diverse souls,

Some are creating new beats,

Some are still keeping past memories alive,

Some are drenched in the sounds of their own laughter,

Oh telling these tales may take me a new lifetime,

So lets talk about my date with the sky tonight,

I wear my old dress for which I have the sky’s unparalleled attention,

A bit shimmery,a bit shiny!

We sit in the breathtaking light emanating from his presence,

He tells me of the things he did during the day,

And I tell mine,

Moments pass smoothly, with no awkward tension hanging in the wind,

We stare into each other’s eyes for a while,

I am dazzled by his hypnotizing light,

Sloshed in sleep now,

I can barely tell you who I am,

But as you might have very well guessed,

Here I am your dear little twinkling star.



Magical it is of meeting a soul that can terrify and calm you at the same time,

Which rages a storm within you and arises the ferocious tides,

But brings a sudden serenity,

Magical it is of meeting a soul who enchants you to lay your fragile soul bare,

To witness that vulnerable feeling of showing your scarred wounds that you would otherwise never choose to exhibit,

How terrifyingly astonishing can that be?

To meet that someone who brings the calm before the storm,

And soothes you after raging through the trails of your wicked mind,

How refreshingly exhausting can that be?

When your want has been replaced by dire needs for that one soul which has audaciously distracted you from within,

When you have lost all the strength to save yourself from being completely allured by that one soul,

And that is when you realize that love has entirely won every struggle.


Very few of us are lucky to have experienced life in a tea garden.My childhood was spent in many beautiful and picturesque gardens and I suddenly felt the urge of sharing my experience.Through this poem,I have tried to relive those days! A small glimpse into my world!


Today I dream of being in a cottage alone by the glistening lake,

With only the woods to calm me by their undisturbing presence,

As I sit and sip my cup of tea, a vivid flashback brings quaint memories alive,

And layers of nostalgia unravel itself through the stillness of time,

My childhood days were undoubtedly the most beautiful days of life,

I have experienced the life of true comfort staying in the magnificent bungalows which were as grand as the Queen’s palace,

The furniture made of the finest wood boasting of elegant designs,

The strolling lawns with swings in which grew the rarest of flowers seen,

The “malibari” as it was called cultivating the sweetest vegetables I ever tasted,

And sometimes it would be visited  by the mighty elephants who would come to visit you in the middle of the night,

Thus, would start another entertaining show of the garden people trying to scare them off with shouts, drums and bombs!

The ‘didis and bhaiyas’ calling you “baby” who would accede to any of your unjustified requests without putting you into trouble,

The dirt tracks within the tea bushes like honeycombs which lead you to nowhere in particular,

And winters would mean the excitement of eating breakfast in the lawn with the sun gently warming you,

Whereas nights would be of cooking unconventionally with the kadhai set over a collection of wood which were selected after a days hardwork!

The smoky mutton curry would allure me helpless in temptation of wanting more and more,

And my favourite part was waking up to the aroma of freshly made tea coming from the factories filled with machines of the bygone days,

Oh! these memories lure me to go back in time to the places which fill a deep sense of gratitude within me for being able to witness them,

As my tea ends, my memoirs of a tea garden will be cherished forever in my heart.



Amidst a whirl of chaotic confusion and heightening anxiety of the unknown,
My heart silently screamed as the clock struck twelve marking the beginning of many ends,
While my mind reluctantly argued, “every end has a beginning.”
Time flew as waves of mindlessness engulfed us,
And with a slow abruptness,a long memorable journey breathed its last.
Everyone knowingly vowed to stay in touch but time would tell its own tale,
A new beginning of being vulnerable started,
We were unbound,we were free and life stealthily whispered,“Welcome to college.”
For many souls it brought struggles unspoken about,
The immense heaviness of leaving home,
The unwanted acceptance of growing up,
The gut-wrenching pain which swelled within me like shards of glass  ripping me apart,
Because of people I never knew I could live without.
The journey we call life begins,
Of discovering new souls,
Of learning to fall and run again,
Of moments of joy,
Of moments of despair,
Thus,the sands of time holds its own mystery.