A tingle you itch to scratch A battle not likely to be won Pigeon droppings on the hat A bleeding sun on the horizon. Muddled thoughts, writer’s curse Tangled yarn a knitter’s bane Bodies swathed in naked clothes…
What is I?
What is I? Who is this place? Why is the answer Every breath is a lie. Loud sirens at night The threadbare shirt Fond memories hurt Real and fantasy fight. The steep mountains Oil spilled in the…
I Remember You
My world collapsed on 10th July 2026 and I am still trying to pick up the pieces from the debris of my shattered life. It is not easy to come back from such a tragedy and I am living proof…
Tortured Minds
Tortured Minds When a grieving heart hides its pain and smiles The tortured mind wields a tranquil paint brush Tear-streaked colours drip on the marble tiles. The glossy facade of a crumbling block Hides the peeling wallpaper and chipped…
Brutal Grief
Grief is a thorn in my sobbing soul Blood is slowly seeping from the hole My heart is chopped up, once I was whole My body is devoid of its soul. The smell of spices wafting in the air The…
Inside Out
Inside Out Horses riding the jockeys, cars on people Imagination or real, is hard to tell. This weirdly crazy cat, who will bravely bell? The neck looks fine from the outside, or not. The thyroid gland wears an under-active tie…
The Black and White Poem
The Black and White Poem The pearly white sun dripped inky black paint My world was a pitch-dark theatre An epic cinematic disaster The deafening screams grew quietly faint Some viewers trailed in with muddy feet Soiling…
Shining Light
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…