The Marriage

The marriage soon gonna happen
The news spread among everyone
The girl is going to be the bride soon.
Everyone is looking so happy around her,
And what about her,
Is she happy?

Sweets have been distributed,
Cards have been printed.
Things are happening perfectly
around her.
And what about her?
Does she wants these things?

Everyone praises the couples,
The perfect groom,
The lucky bride people said.
Why is she lucky?
Did anyone ask her?
Do she feels lucky?

Mom and dad are so proud
that she agreed to their decision.
Is she proud of her parents?
Was this the way she wanted them
to be proud of her?

Mom came near to her before 'THE NIGHT'.
Mother for the first time talked to her
about all the 'SACRED THINGS'
said open your legs wide
Are you clean? she asked
satisfy his need! she exclaimed
Do what he wants!
Why doesn't anyone ask her?
What she wants?

When our society?
will turn marriage
into happiness, rather than a contract.
when we will be asked
what we want?
what we wish?
Ask yourself!
Does she want this?



Blood on the street, like i
blacked out
Ghosts in the air, like I'm
wack now
No one really cares when you
talk loud
While I sit in
silence, blinking while the
light's out
Now I'm thinking that I
messed up
Looking at you, you don't
have a chance for me no, no
And I don't know what you're
But you are talking so loud
Then you try to explain it
But you are never around
Never my intention, no
Never my intention, no
Never my intention, no
No, no never my intention.


like a question, we slither
upwards at the end
our voices hitching
until we are two octaves too high.
no one hears the statement
only the uncertainty.

we are buried in our own doubt?
this is not a place we wish to live?

coughing up dirt at the end of a phrase
to keep it from sounding assertive.

and even this. even this poem
has no ending. i ended it three times
and each time it sounded like a whisper.
like in the middle of this page
i was head bowed and waiting for permission.

the poem is over? this is an ending?
is this alright?

my words have been cut off too many times
for my spine to unfurl from my throat/

i am a living question mark?


Being beaten up all day in and day out
She didn't lose hope but kept toiling hard
Hearing torturous comments from
every roadside bastard.

Do you think it is simple
To keep the pain inside and hide it
with a cute dimple?

They call her a torture victim
But she actually is a person who
kept up her lights on while her
life was in the dim.

While her life's state is almost no more
calling her merely a torture victim
and celebrating a day to commemorate
her pains is just a pejorative


Sometime your life is all about the people whom you love the most. All you think is about their happiness. You give all of yourself to them, and expect nothing in return but when unexpected things come your way, you shatter down. I believe that being patient is art which can be learned by all but can be inculcated by few. Do you remember the last time when you did something for yourself that’s very unexpected. Some things are unexpected let’s not stereotype unexpected things as worst of all the thing you all need to focus is your passion and happy life. Always and forever is a constant myth that give people false hopes. Do you also feel that sometimes these false hopes is all you need is that very moment, after knowing the fact that thee hopes aren’t permanent we get sense of satisfaction. Maybe- maybe we all are used to these temporary things but we are just not brave enough to accept that. UNEXPECTED feelings, incidents, wars, love, conflicts, meet ups, ends are part of our life and help us to grow in all a different direction. Having broader skills and minds is a subtle art of not giving fuck about many things. At the end of the day the things that matter is people who have contributed anyhow in making your day a bit better and made you smile even for once.But for me the most beautiful unexpected thing is friendship. In our lives we experience many different kinds of friendships. On the rare occasion we encounter someone so special that we just know we met for a reason. These are the kinds of friendships that last forever no matter what city you live in or how often you speak, no matter how old you get or what phase of life you are in. It’s the type of friendship that has no judgement and sticks by you even when you fuck up, it’s the kind of friendship that makes you understand unconditional love. Maybe you met your most special friend when you were 6,13 or 30 or maybe you are yet to cross paths. It happens at different stages for different people. But when it does, there is no greater comfort than knowing that this person will be right there beside you to share the happiness, the sadness and everything in between. So never run from these unexpected happenings maybe it have just occurred to add new colors in your life .


I am sorry I am not your dreamer anymore.
I am dreamless
will that be fine by you?
For I have always seen people picking roses and daisies
Rather than the weed growing on the sidewalk of your home
I am shadow of those trees
You once admired for being so long
Now this forest remains empty
With handful of fall stricken branches
I am sorry I let the rays of setting sun
Fall directly on your face
Because my mother told me
Nobody captures the photo of sunsets
It's a bad omen
Have I become one?
My body and my heart feels tired
Like the desert waiting for snow
It did snow in Sahara
But now the summers
No, the scorching pain is going to last long
It's ironical
How when I was young; we were told a lonely tree can die
But nobody told what happened if we too became one/
Tell me honestly, will you?
How would you introduce me if only I was your friend
Would you hide?
Some questions are left unsaid
And maybe they are better those ways
But it's all my fault
I am a bad driver of my life
I should have learnt the rules
But when I did
The world laughed and said'"Ah! a pampered kid"
May be my depression is a side effect and not he disease
Maybe it is a spoil brat wanting love rather than life
Maybe my depression is a grownup gone lazy
Waiting for someone to open the door
And help me out to meet my dreams
Which have flew away with the breeze
May be the spring can bring them back
Because I am not your dreamer anymore
And I am tired of it!!!!

I am not perfect

my parents
are perfectionists
they can't stand
anything less
than perfect
I'm their
realist daughter
my mother
lists of
my flaws
i scratch
them all

1 ** my skin**
2 ** my hair**
3 ** my body**

in primary school
my parents
told my teachers
she's a little
doesn't talk much,
don't be harsh
i left my
quiet there
took my voice
and moved

4 **too loud**
5 **too bold**

my parents
have very
little words
at all
to them
i was born
a surprise
poetry dripping
from the sides
of my mouth
poetry clutched
in my hand
poetry in the
hollow of my chest

7 **too many words**
8 **too many opinions**
9 **unacceptable**

my father
is a war
my mother
is the
of it
I am the
in between
of peace
and ruins

10 **too soft too slow**
11 **pretty much naive**
12 **what are all those scars**

it's 4 am
i want to
throw my heart
off the balcony
but i don't
next morning
i step out
and the sky
smiles down
at me
another day
it sighs

13 **weak**
14 **not brave enough**
15 **not good enough**
16 **not enough**
17 enough.

I'm not perfect and i can stand that.