Someone to talk to in the quiet moments Someone to lean on, a beautiful soul One who heals the emotional torments Pulls me out of the deep sinking hole. A heart so pure, cleanses with a touch A sweet…
My Journey With Likhega India Mission
I was a student at Jai Hind College, Mumbai, long before most of my fellow authors from Likhega India Mission were even born. The year was 1981 and I was young and crazy, like Sweta mentioned in her speech at…
The Middle Child!
Middle children are always the quietest. They don’t begin that way, but Circumstances, make them so. The older ones hog all the limelight. The younger ones command all the love. The middle child is confused. Should she make…
A Poetic Story.
When I wrote this story, I felt it needed something more. The characters and dialogues were nice but I wanted more than nice, I wanted extraordinary! Wanted my story to sing at the top of its voice and express the…
I Walk With Invisible People
I walk with invisible people While out walking in the park I see All those who have passed by me The spirit world envelopes me All my departed loved ones I see I follow my…
Bruised Psyche
Occasionally I am all alone And I kind of prefer it that way I don’t have to pretend to be nice I can be as nasty as I may. When I desire some company, I hold conversations with…
Abstract Poem
What is abstract imagery? Is it when I drown in the dark depths of the ocean of grief? Or when the frolicking waves dance with my ecstasy? Do I let my emotions ebb and flow like the tides? Can the…
Full House
Full House A full house lives in me Happiness, jubilation, exhilaration reside In every corner A bold house lives in me Courage, bravery, drive the foundation it’s built on A loving house lives in me Affection, adoration, charm envelop all…
Empty House
An empty house lives in me. Morbid, maudlin musings of my muddled mind filter through its sheer curtains A lonely house lives in me Sheer isolation and desperation Delude Its only occupant A Bruised house lives in me The wounds…
Writers or Magicians?
What is poetry? Outpourings of emotions Or is it something else? Can you solve this mystery? Writers are funny beings I don’t mean jolly, jovial In their heads some things, feel wrong and abnormal They are doomed either…
Weirdly Vibrant
Today we had a major fight He didn’t like the way I poured, washing liquid in the machine. He knows I never measure, ever So what was it really about? He got out of bed the wrong side?…
Exhaustion
Going through the motions of living is exhausting Smiling, laughing, sleeping, eating, working out Cooking, gardening, walking, talking everything Is exhausting. We pretend to be busy We pretend to be fine We pretend life is okay We pretend…