writing

He, You, I

We were unwilling acquaintances
of separate worlds and separate minds
He, six foot tall and ready for revolution
I, five feet tall, with a dream.

Then, there was you 
With your talk of change, transparency and a revolution we could all be part of
Camp to your politics of division and unity,
we were all called and all of us said yes,
all at the same time.

I still remember days of smouldering heat and burning grass as we lay on a ground we knew not to touch
They called us rebels. We called ourselves changers of a system we knew we could not change.
But then I slipped away amidst the haze as the screams got louder, the hate more bitter
I kept saying that wasn’t me. I did not want to become what you already were. 
Perhaps, I already was.

Hypocrisy is a comical word. They all call you that 
He, six foot tall and ready to defend you till the death of his own dignity
I, five feet tall, with an idea.

But then, we are all hypocrites, you know.

(more…)

Again

So I decided to come here

and face the music that

once loved me. And somewhere

tonight, as the fireworks burst

and the stars came up, I saw your

eyes and looked into them again

and as the music played,

you were mine and I became

yours, all over again. (more…)

Growing Up

I told you long ago
That I had grown up
Altered for the better
Casually crushing
Your hopes for sympathy
Forgiveness
Needless chatter
Comfortable silence
I said
It was never love
Child’s play
A rocky distraction
Of youthful lust
And clandestine mistakes
Today
I remember you
As I tell my story
To another one of you
Charming
Caught in a haze
Of blinding allure
Distracted as ever
Perhaps
I have not grown up at all (more…)

Call for Poetry Submissions

I have always loved creativity and it’s something that stirs my heart. I also love submitting my work to people, journals, magazines, etc. simply because it is always nice if they accept and you get a platform to showcase a bit of who you are in your work. That is why I have decided to open a Submissions page on my blog because I feel that featuring other writers on my site will not only give them a platform but also create an atmosphere of even more creativity and even better poetry.

I don’t have millions of followers to show your poetry to but I do have quite a wide readership that includes people from all around the world. It’s amazing when I get messages from people from countries I’d never expect. It is really wonderful to see people who take poetry seriously.

So please do send in any poems that you might want to have on my blog.

All rights will remain with the author and should you want to have it removed from the site at any later stage, I will gladly comply. This is not an official publication but just a chance to be featured on a creative forum. (more…)

Why I Write

As a little girl, I loved to write, to put my thoughts on paper and to read it later to a much amused audience. They would ask me where I had come up with such ideas and thoughts. It was in moments such as those when I felt like I was on top of the world.

However, as the years passed by, so did my zeal and passion to write. It was almost like that bright flame was turning to embers. I still wrote, but that was only in private diaries and that too only to keep my sanity. But these diaries were not works of art that I could treasure; instead they were just a mere reflection of my own emotional roller coaster.

It was neither inability nor was it the shortage of things to write about that hindered me. But now, I know it was insecurity. The essays, poems and stories I had, I wrote onto the pages of my heart. Yet, I never had the courage to actually put them on paper. That which was etched deep within the layers of my worn out heart, remained there.

I am still young. Many have gone ahead of me, in age, maturity and wisdom. However, though I am but a child still, I have now made a decision. A decision I have prolonged for far too long. I have decided to read and share the journal of my heart. So much is written and so many layers I have to sort through, but I know I must put it in ink.

There are times when my imagination bewilders even myself and my dreams seem as far away as the stars. Yet when I read, they seem just a little bit closer. And that is what I want to do- to touch others as I myself have been touched. I am probably not a literary genius or another legend in the making, but the sky is still the limit. It is my time, my time to write and my time to pierce through the veins and into the hearts of those who will read with an open mind and an open soul.