The hated child

One child a prodigy
other they called tragedy
He would never bother them
she bared all her worries.
Too independent in his thoughts
she couldn’t do without them
he believed in actions
she daydreamed, denied them.
Now that the children needed an advice
she was there for him
but who would hear her
she had always been moaning
so they did not bother to care
and left her wandering.
She slipped into silence
never uttering
a single word
about her suffering
she started being too hard on herself
and kept on blundering.
There’s a thing about love they say
call it unrequited
parents may love their children the same
but not the same love is sometimes suited
because each child is unique
and differently gifted.
But she knows she will
find her own way
and make them see things
as she sees
and there will come a day
when they will be proud
of this tragedy.


Once upon a time
I did not have a car
I walked all the way
to places near and far
but then dad bought a Maruti
and it brought comfort,
little luxury.
I stopped walking
he took us in the car
to all places near and far.
We had a little salary
but the expenses would soar
in case we went outside
and spent on a family of four.
But then there was a hike
and we started to splurge
making us sick
were these things called comforts.
And then we lost on them
all at once
and we started to miss
the little luxuries
later did I find
how have the comforts
made me whine
now that I cannot
look for any more rhymes
I will resign.

The cost of following your heart

Tattered bunch of dreams
looking out
seeking fulfilment
scared and in doubt
no one to back them
none to fuel
beaten hard sometimes
treated cruel.
Mindless hearts
in varied pursuits
which way to go
what to choose
it is only when you do not try
that you truly lose.
If you are good at it
let it last
whatever be the cost of
following your heart.


We are just
a bunch of intentions
stitched and carved
into a whole body
with little threads
oozing out
making us imperfect
putting them in doubt
because what they see is
but a perception
a cover from reality
not all intentions are loud
some intentions are better masked
beneath a shroud
no we do not intend to confuse you
or put you into doubt
we just don’t want you to see
what lies beneath the shroud
and no we don’t want you to come
unveil the mystery
nor do we wish to share the past
that is now history
we do not crave any attention
nor do we want to be pursued
we are just a bunch of intentions
stitched together
transparent and crude.


Failure stories piling up
sometimes one reason
at times another
some talk about face value
some don’t bother to read
everyone has their own opinion
now if one were to pay heed
to all that they have to say
every fall would mean
finding a new way.
Let it not handicap you
or make it difficult to dream
let rejection mails keep piling up
but make sure your courage is redeemed.


Some find it in silence
some call music a good refuge
but when all of it fails
dance comes to rescue
breathing life into the
otherwise meaningless lyrics
making it almost poetic
removing the otherwise draped cover
leaving people bare
it is lovely to watch them
when they do not care
doing their own thing
while the world stares.

Going Solo

Alone was scary
and people a mess
She won’t go out
she thought it best
to keep to herself
and stay inside
cover her up
telling lies
to herself
that she is free
but there were
things to see
scenes to explore
so she mustered the courage
opened the door
to a new world
that waited
and she doesn’t care
if she is hated
or loved anymore.
There is a strange peace in going solo
and in finally finding yourself
and gathering memories
to place on your shelf.


Unapologetic, unforgiving
not letting things slide
silently slipping into silence
instead of a fight
because there is no point
in venting out
when you know
you won’t be heard
complete silence, not a word
anger it seems
has its own language.