Travelling with poetry…

into the new year! Tying up the loose ends, and knitting the fringes of a setting year with the rising one. Though poetry makes it a seamless journey, there shall be pauses and lulls and line breaks. Taking it all as it comes…here we stand at the threshold of another verse trying to decipher the lyrics of a song yet to unfold.

Wish you all a very happy new year. I am sure He plans to keep us all strong for the spread.


This poem Incognito from Free Verse Revolution. Thanks to Kristiana for including this piece.


Art with procreate

Created on ‘procreate‘

not of sapphire night,

write moon tales

of stars in her hair

Creating art with ‘procreate’ is fun …next best to dipping your brushes in actual paints!

There’s an option to undo an imperfect stroke.No spilling of colours. But getting that exact shade is a challenge. Once you have acquainted yourself with the features, which is quite exhaustive, you are set to create unending artworks!

The most interesting part is that you can create , maybe amateur, your own pictures for your poetic expression.

Happy Sunday and happy procreation 😀😇

#hegemony- from the archives of IVJ- 2016

The time I wrote this the country was seeing extreme political upheaval. Even the common man who generally has his head into a regular tax-paying job, typical middle class family issues, work deadlines and an occasional weekend outburst over governance, knit his brows, clenched his fist and teeth and got into cynical name-calling mode. It had to be right or left, and center was called fence-sitting. Sanity went for a toss and it just got too personal when family gatherings too split into right and left. Perhaps someone too cynical I met triggered off this verse from me. It featured in the Indiana Voice Journal Dec 2016 issue. Thinking back I feel happy I wrote it and got it off my chest.

I am trying to collect screenshots of my published poems. Lucky that IVR is going strong and I found this piece. Another one , ‘identity’ featured along with the above is right below.

Indiana Voice Journal Dec 2016- from the archives

Happy wednesday and go to poetry anytime. It’s like homecoming!

Poetry update- accepted by Free Verse Revolution

Excited to share with you all that my poem has found home in Free Verse Revolution Issue IV: hades (the unseen). It was pure fun and fulfilment writing on this theme! Looking forward to the release of the upcoming issue on Hades. We shall be treated to some awesome poetry I am sure. Meanwhile do check out the earlier issues

Thanks to Kristiana Reed for the appreciation, and acceptance of my poem.

Those of you who haven’t stepped into the world of Hades and Persephone do hit the net and choose to lose your way out of the dark alleys.

Happy Monday. Stay healthy and smiling!

th-inking thursday haiku

People define it as over-thinking, but I call it overt thinking. Tumbling in and out of philosophy through routine chores. Finding food for learning in every byte is what makes everything palatable.
Some win by losing, some lose in spite of winning. Who wins, who loses remains inconclusive but churn we must, our minds, even at the cost of being called overt thinkers.

Some thinking before inking this haiku-

contest if you must

now you win and now you loose

life is still counting

Happy th-inking Thursday.

S for Sept ember… S for sepia

I don’t know what about September it is that makes me think not like me. It seems September lends a new dimension to my mind’s eye. It’s that time when monsoon passes the baton to winter. Rain washed thoughts struggle for some Sun, and a little prayer to a rare bright fading day escapes me, wishing the evening lingered a bit more on the photos on my wall. Sunset and a wandering mind … how can anyone be averse to a verse…

Go slow

Sept ember glow

there’s still time

for the Sun to walk past.

There’s still light in the sky

and the stars

not in a hurry for the show.

Read them before they fade


the brown of my eyes

the bow of my brows behold.

Go slow

Sept ember glow

there’s still blue in the sky

and the tide

not in a hurry for the storm.

Go slow

Sept ember glow

may the silky dusk

golden my wall of fame

and the sepia

not in a hurry to steal a wink.

If this were to fit in a haiku…

sunset swept pictures

September glow on my wall

one more fading day

How else does a cyclone-hit heart do it with a haiku!

September, if not anything teaches us to break into verse and haiku.

Happy week and happy soul con versing!

How to go…in a poem

Going is a responsible task. We go out of a space physically, mentally or metaphysically or in any ratio of proportion of the three. If we haven’t gone well we haven’t gone at all. We are lingering around… sweet, bitter or bittersweet. Most of us know how to go when we know where to go. But knowing how to go when we just have to go, without knowing where to, is the real challenge. Sounds complex but breaking it down to basics makes it much easier. The inevitable part is that we must go and that we do not know where to go. So the only part that remains to be tackled is how to go. By default we are all allowed only to go gracefully, and without much chaos…inner I mean.

Simply trust the fact that we find our silence, if not silence finds us sooner or later, and we dissolve into it. Also trust the fact that problems have a shelf life too. Whether it’s the people, or problems, or both, each one comes with an expiry date and a handling instruction. We might completely miss the latter as it’s cryptic. If not read well the going might get really tough.

[An aside about problem- be careful with whom you share your problem. I have heard people say, initially they had one and three more for having shared with three dear ones. There’s no need to say they ended up solving the later three all their life and the first one was only fate’s bait!]

Coming back to going, I have observed that some unhappy, unpleasant people never go. Especially when they don’t take themselves completely with them. Their words and deeds, fossils in time.

After me…
to keep me away from you
start today…start now
forget making memories with me!
If you are the blessed one
when I go
I will take myself completely with me.
Until then what we have
is a demon shadow on the wall
threatening to eat
your already dwindling hope
and my sinking light.

Have a wonderful week. What may come and what may go is only for the weak!

Haiku inside

I was scrolling through my Insta feed yesterday and found this absolutely intimidating question by speaking tree- What one thing will you surely do if it was your last day?
I asked myself- will this question sound better if it’s worded- what one thing will you do if it was surely your last day? So yes, that’s the official answer to the official question! One thing I would surely do is to make sure if it’s actually my last day. It’s hilarious how we smirk these obvious questions off with – Oh don’t throw these hypothetical situations at me. The reason being, we aren’t prepared for them. We tend to think another day is waiting in the wings to cock a doodle doo and we can yawn our way through. The irony is, we and our last day, both shall pass like a catastrophe. If we aren’t lucky enough, we might hear someone say- this too shall pass.

dew pearl on the leaf
tied to the mercurial wind
this tide too shall pass

I always go to haiku if what’s on the mind is grave. Cut out all the clutter and guess what, we are right at the core. Just like we know all that must happen for the sky to open and rain.

winning titles

Recently a dear person from my extended family exclaimed how I had inherited a bleak streak of the passion for writing from my father, and fairly good skills at multi tasking, sewing and cooking from my mother! Such a relief to hear after putting behind me a little over half a century! That’s such a delicate responsibility…carrying star images of the genes we are born with.

Genes are what they are…mixed bag of urchins and fairies. Life is always a work in progress until we have tamed our urchins! Bad…blame it on the genes. Good…well, grab the limelight. The real shifts must happen within. Some battles are fought alone…when the enemy lives within.


The first fight
with my own genes.
Wind rasping around
roughs and sharps
returns to the sky
like a wounded tigress.
What time have I
for the clanging of
my world’s discord!
What words have I
for my world
locked in silence!

I lose singing rivers,
dancing rains, to quieting
of the foes within.
The anthem of unweeded land
grows louder and louder.
When would win I
the gossamer of my own weave!

Happy weekend and may our good genes rule us.