Rainbow Bulle

The yellow boots,
drenched in rainwater,
with mud spatters,
enters the big puddle.
A small rainbow bubble
welcomes the two feet.
Two adjoining dots,
peer back,
the lurking shadow.
It resembles someone,
but whom,
it knows, not.
They both,
watch,
unfolding layers,
of the other.
They both look the same,
yet they are years apart.
One with yellow boots,
only smiles,
while the other,
laugh with eyes closed.
One has melancholy eyes,
the other, sunlit sparkles in them.
The furrowed eyebrows,
gaze,
at moonlit glow,
of the other.
Yes, they might look the same
but are years apart.
The umbra,
with knitted eyebrows,
gaze quizzically,
towards the two poles,
of this side.
As if asking,
the why’s
of the metamorphosis.
With a wry smile,
the vulnerable self,
answers, back politely.
People and time,
the
ever changing,
two’s of the world.
The silhouette,
slowly picks up,
the
coloured droplet,
and passes it on,
to the absolute.
The reverie breaks.
The yellow boots,
drenched in rainwater,
with mud spatters,
moves out of the large puddle,
leaving the trace,
of seven-band,
healed aura.

Fernweh

The yellow rain boots,
with layers of mud,
kept going,
in the marshes.
The pale pink dress,
drenched,
snugging to the body,
was moving.
Disheveled long hair,
swaying,
as darkness engulfed
all around,
with the bursting
of grey clouds.
Tired yet alive,
In pain but still moving,
to where,
who knows,
Running,
walking,
limping,
but still,
moving,
in the pursuit of happiness,
Clenching hope,
between her,
pruney fingers,
of,
new dawn.

Fernweh is German word, means an ache to get away and travel to a distant place, a feeling even stronger than wanderlust.It literally translates to “distance-sickness.”. While someone with wanderlust might sit at home and happily fantasize about all the places they might visit, someone with fernweh would feel a deeper sense of longing, a sort of homesickness but for foreign lands.

Where do the broken hearts go?

The rib-cage holding the hearts
from flying away,
In the shadows of darkness.
Otherwise,
where, do you think the broken hearts go?
Dipping in the sorrow,
of the ocean of shed tears,
dissolving the hidden pain.
Where else,
do you think the broken hearts go?
Numbing the emotions,
with sips of moonshine,
they sit on a vacant road.
Otherwise,
where, do you think the broken hearts go?
Sitting by the seaside,
looking into the vastness,
filling the holes
with the salty air.
Where else,
do you think the broken hearts go?
Scribbling on the blank pages,
with verses,
that tear apart.
Otherwise,
where, do you think the broken hearts go?
Strumming the chords,
pouring,
the aching heart,
into the world.
Where else,
do you think the broken hearts go?
Sometimes, they stumble,
and meet,
other broken hearts,
It’s here,
the first healing begins.
Otherwise,
where, do you think the broken hearts go?

Parched

In the desert
of arid plains,
the vision gets blurred,
with the hailing
sandstorm.
Sinking feet,
in the dry sand,
distancing,
from the oasis.
Eyes of barren land,
looking out,
for a few drops,
of rain.
The parched
seeks its,
ocean,
in the scorching sun.
Amongst the mosaic,
of dunes,
stood,
his bluest ocean.
But for others,
it is just a,
fountain.

The Other Side

In the light,
we all shove,
the darkness,
hidden beneath us.
Rays of bright sunshine,
let us forget,
the loneliness
of the moon.
While catching,
the fireflies,
in the jar,
we dismiss their pain.
Enjoying the rains,
from our balcony,
we fail to see,
the drenched ones.
Amongst people,
we ignore,
our sadness,
until the coldness,
of our bed,
hits us.
Looking far away,
at horizon,
we manifest,
union of sky and sea,
While reality says,
their separation,
is for eternity.

Experiences of Lifetime

The gifts people bestow on you by introducing you to new experiences are the best gifts. Sometimes even they are unaware that they have given a gift of a lifetime to someone. Now that I think of about my choices or my favorite things in retrospect, I feel that not all items are mine, somehow they were given or lent to me to be experienced by others.

I became curious about Harry Potter when I saw my crush in school reading it, I was fascinated by the cover, but more so I was curious what exactly was he reading and when my brother’s friend lent me the series, I was blown over. I moved on from that crush long ago but never from that book.

Then in college, I met H, who is a very close friend of mine, who introduced me to music. Music didn’t mean much to me until he gifted me a CD with a vast collection of great music. Those songs are still my go-to songs.

My best friend M introduced me to great food, and she is that one person with whom I have so many firsts when it comes to food. We have explored so much from high-end restaurants in Canaught Place to the narrow lanes of Old Delhi, which smells like a heaven of food.

Another guy whom I met in a college club while doing my masters introduced me to my favorite author, Orhan Pamuk. Reading Pamuk opened a whole different world for me. Reading became more than just a hobby from then on. I can never thank him enough for this gesture.

And then I met someone who gave me, my favorite movie — the Eternal Sunshine of Spotless Mind. I have professed my love for this movie so many times, but this is one movie that introduced me to the depth of my emotions. I persuaded my brother to watch it, and then we ended up discussing it for hours. I think that is the most extended discussion we ever had about art. Yes, I am in depth of this person for all the experiences.

I have come to realize that people move in and out of your life, and you get used to their presence and absence. And somehow, life goes on. But it’s the experiences they give you that become part of your soul. The soul that’s eternal even if you leave this body of yours. So thank you, everyone, for marking my soul with a great experience.

On last note sharing my favorite quote from the movie, which is taken from the beautiful poem Eloisa to Abelard by Alexander Pope.

“How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
The world forgetting, by the world, forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each prayer accepted, and each wish resigned.”

PS: I haven’t included everything here. Today it was just about the small things.

March Madness

March you made me feel seventeen again.
The month started with the trepidation of upcoming days,
Just like then where I feared about my last exams of school life,
This time the fear was different, but the jitters were the same,
I was seventeen again.
This March had tears too,
Just like then where I cried for the end of my school life.
The melody of life was jumbled up, and the future looked blurred,
I felt like a fool for being seventeen again.

I was reading Harry Potter then too,
And I read Harry Potter in this March also,
Cause I was reliving my seventeenth year unbeknownst to myself.

I was trying hard to conceal the darkness inside me
Shoving away the lurking shadows in the boxes of my concealed past.

This March I laughed a bit too, at silly things,
the funny cats and dog memes,

It was the night that brought with it, the stillness of my life.
I craved some moments to last forever,
Even though I knew there is nothing like forever,
But what can I say, after all, I was seventeen again.
The beauty of seventeen is, it has hope packed with layers of disappointment,
Whereas now, I need to search for light within.
This march I felt seventeen again,
With highs as high as hurricane high,
Lows as low as Mariana Trench.
The only difference,
Between then and now is,
The intensity of emotions,
The Mt Kilimanjaro of then became Mt Everest of now.
So this how my march begin,
and will end,
by being seventeen again.

Missing you

I miss you,
Miss you terribly today.
The warmth of your hug,
The serenity of your smile,
Those love filled eyes,
Your fragrance,
Your fingers holding mine,
Telling me things will be alright.
I miss your silent presence
Next to me, in bed.
I wish I could crawl back
in the time,
lay my head on your laps.
I miss,
Your wet kisses on my face.
I miss,
holding your saree’s border
while crossing the street.
I miss,
You’re calling me Queen Victoria,
and bowing your head in front of me.
I wish,
I could go back inside your womb,
and be there always,
safe from the outside world.
I miss your hands,
wiping my flowing tears away.
I miss our laughter,
your jokes and our talks.
I wish,
I can be nine again,
where you were the cure,
for all my daemons.
I miss,
long head massages,
that you gave me
in my headaches.
I miss,
just being a daughter,
and nothing else.
I wish,
I could hide,
behind you,
like I used to do,
when someone unwanted approached me.
I miss,
Miss you Maa,
even though I know,
you are a phone call away,
But,
I miss being with you.
I miss you,
terribly, terribly today.

This song truly depicts my emotions right now. Listening it in a loop from last hour or so and letting my emotions flow freely, with my words and tears.

The Last Gift

In the crowded lanes,
Of the bustling city.
He kept searching,
for something,
that would glorify,
her alluring charm.
Something that will be,
like a missing diamond on a crown.
Wandering,
On the streets of the flea market,
his eyes fell,
on the palette of earrings,
hanging on a board.

#earrings #mumbaistreetmarket

Bewildered,
by the array of choices,
he closed his eyes,
envisioned her angelic face.
Choosing carefully,
he picked the one,
lying on the muslin cloth.
Holding it up,
in the sunlight,
he saw vestige of their,
fragile relationship,
in that exquisite,
Oxidized silver pair of chandbalis.
Paying with trembling hands,
he realized that,
this is, his last token of love,
to her.

PS: The idea of this poetry struck my mind when I saw a guy buying a pair of earrings in Colaba street market on my recent trip to Mumbai. I always find it fascinating when I see a man buying jewellery for a woman 🙂

Note:Chandbali Earrings were originated during the Mughal or Nizam era in Hyderabad.

I was DESTINED to meet You

Even before i could realize, you entered in my world…

unnoticed , unheard …an eye from a far end..


You kept waiting for me …when i was busy walking with others.

You kept watching me ….when i was immersed in my talks.


You walked behind me …. silentiously… just leaving the impression of the footprints.

To make me realize that amidst this hideous visual cacophony, occasional insights could be observed.

You made me realize that I may try to run away …i may try to hide …

But how ever , how much I try …I cannot escape from you.

And I accepted the truth that I have rendezvous with you.

Rendezvous is not the end point, instead it’s the symbol of a new beginning.

It’s the rendezvous what everyone is searching for ….consciously or unconsciously…

With this unconscious desire…i searched my inner self…

A peep into my soul ….an insight of my core….

Realizing ….I was Destined to meet YOU …. 🙂

“People destined to meet will do so, apparently by chance, at precisely the right moment.”