Poetry

In the shards of the mirror Strewn around me, I see life scattered Peeking furtively From the jagged rims.   I see instances And I see incidents, Some long forgotten Some fresh Peeping from the corners.   Like life, the shards too struggle Do they not? At a semblance of …

  Through the spun filigree of dusk As I bade farewell to another day I ached for you.   Did the sifting sands of time stop? Did my maimed heart skip a beat?   Swathed in reams of gloomy regret I felt my heart throb painfully as It ached for …

  Why does pain hurt? Like a hot spoke burrowing through The soft chambers of our heart, It cleaves a severe path. Oh, the agony of heartbreak. How agonizing is the feeling! The pain of it clamps its hot fingers Around our tender feelings, Suffocating their softness To leave us …

Teetering on the brink, As if unsure and uncertain, It totters. Indecisive or may be hesitant It reins in its dampness, and Contracts into a moist orb, Glistening like a drop of dew. It lays there for a while Vacillating On the moist rim of emotions Which churn in the …

Mother, Do you remember those summer nights? We would lie under the stars On the Charpai in the aangan? You would urge me to look for shooting stars And prod me to wish upon one. I did that. I was young, I believed in magic. But, more than magic, I …

  Far removed From the eviscerated Maw of pugnacious humanity I buzz… A mute spectator Hovering over the rim of the world. Like an open book, the world lays open, Its spine fractured under The onus of its bludgeoned self. Will it recover, ever? Will it be able to snap …

Nowadays, I fear to be fearful I am scared of losing hope. As the layers of my optimism Get peeled off, day after day My courage shrinks. I try to grasp and clutch at The impotent vestiges of bravado That I so desperately want to feel. But, I fail. My …

In the frugal chambers Of my heart Above the beats that echo I hear the sound of silence. It roars…   Pulsating within the confines Of my reclusive heart, Shackled and bound to My closed-off self, It rages…   Tempestuous and simmering Like a pot Of roiling emotions It beats …

The jagged splinters of memory, Through the wrap of time Beckon. Their beguiling charm Coddling me, ensnaring me. Dare I sink in? Do I allow them to drag me back? Isn’t time supposed to pass? Then why do these shards of memory Beckon so, dragging me back? What answers does …

I believe, The mornings breathe in silence, Stretching languidly When roused from their nightly slumber. They no longer ring with The cacophonous din of humanity. I know, That nowadays they resonate With melodious chirps and cheeps. The Koel coos, the crows caw at the waterhole And today, a Sparrow hopped …