Broken wings

The fire danced to the tune of my mind,

As heat spread in the core of the heart.

A dramatic dance, it was,

The cast of passion in a stage called life.


The roller coaster I climbed on,

Took me to all possible places.

The rush of air, already trying to subside the fire.


Yet, the heart was determined,

Comforted from the heat,

Held tight to it,

Too proud to let go.


Pity the poor thing,

For it didn’t see the massive storm,

Rushing fast, from a far corner.


The wind, the rain, the thunder,

Washed away the fire,

Not letting even a small amber to survive,

Paving way for a huge heart ache.


As I hold on to hope and refuse to let go of courage,

I pen a poem,

Of  hidden angels and broken wings…




Who won?

The train rattled along,

Jerking and making me bounce,

With every curve it hit…


Tossing and turning,

Fighting to give up,

My good night’s sleep…


My hair in a mess,

Earphones dangling around,

The sheets crumpled…


When the early morning rays,

Crawled up to my face,

Wishing me a morning…


Smiling sleepily,

For the victory of the night,

Opening a single eye with a wink…


I saw him smiling at me…


At my messed up self,

Drowsy eyes,

Make-up less face…


He sat there, that angelic face,

‘Had he been here all night?’, questioned my mind.

‘Who really did win?’, asked me the night.





Like a candle…

He was like a burning candle…

Even after the last ounce had melted away,

And the wick was at its edge,

Giving up was never the option,

Not the easy path chosen.


He burnt to the fullest,

Tired to the fullest,

Lived to the fullest !



Weighed up is the heart,
Growing heavy with every passing moment,
Making me drop to the ground,
Unable to hold on…

Hands search for a support,
To clench tight and never leave,
As the fingers weave,
A dance in the mid-air…

The eyes are gloomy,
Filled with tears ready to flow,
As I manage to blink it off,
And mumble a prayer…

Hope is playing a low key,
Taking its own time to get qued in,
As the other actors wait,
To save the play on this stage called Earth…


Dance of dreams…

The sunny afternoon never stopped us,
From a long ride in that dusty road,
Arms wrapped around tight…

I wanted to feel the wind in my hair,
Wanted my heart to fly away as we sped,
Just as it ditched me to fly to you…

Wanted to feel your heart beat against me,
The heat and the sweat,
Trying its best to creep between us…

I was that little bird,
In the blue painted sky,
Fluttering its wings for the first time…

To fly like the prettiest in the world,
For the Angels to envy,
Our love, impeccable!

To speed away to a new world,
Our little world,
Filled with passion and love…

Let’s escape to our wonderland,
I said,
Dreams dancing in my eyes…



When the evil king took over…

Shining bright was the sun,
Smiles filled around,
As my heart went on a high swing,
Flying high over the clouds,
Humming the tune of the birds…

Spring was in the air,
As the flowers danced along,
And the wind carried a bliss
Of mild drizzle and mist…

The dark clouds had always been there,
Hidden above in the blue sky,
Mocking a wicked smile all along,
For it was the evil king,
Able to rule as and when it wished!

My feet was up and above the ground,
That I forgot to notice,
The leaves starting to wither,
The flowers beginning to droop…

A sudden thunder clap,
Blinded my eyes,
Awakening the sleepy mind,
As the spring waded goodbye,
As the birds flew far and gone…

The rain pierced my skin,
Like a thousand sharp knives,
Neither drawing blood,
Nor leaving a scar!

As my yearning heart awaits,
My longing eyes peer through the window,
The same tornado stirring inside me,
Only to shed a single tear,
Hoping for the sunshine to return…



Hostel life…

The nights are the busiest…
Cellphones in hand,
The constant talk,
Or constant texts.

The sudden burst of laughter,
From a far corner,
Joke cracked,
Or bitched upon.

Sleepy conquests,
Dinner plans,
Guy encounters,
And girly giggles.

The breezy lawn,
Cold weather,
Occupied benches,
Smiles on face.

Sunday mornings,
The laziest!
It’s 11, still rooms closed,
Scarce is the lawn!

Life in hostel❤



I walked,
Past all those living mortals,
Too busy to laugh.

I passed,
For those crooked souls,
Who looked through me.

Like I’m wrapped,
In a magic blanket,
Hiding me beneath.

I ran,
I’m running from things,
Which would never change.

I prefer,
For its the safe haven,
Hidden, yet not !



Book review- Tell me your real story

Tell Me Your Real Story.
Most often any piece of writing you either write or plan to pen down will be a an effect of what inspired you or how you desire to inspire others. The poetess Savita Nair is nothing short of becoming your modern icon. Her thoughts are bold and blarrers right out of the book.

The poems are just one of a kind which is just not the usual ones that you would read or expect to be in every other poetry collection.

Poetry, I guess had a significant feeling which is just like a song or your favorite book. Its an escape from the world, a heavenly adobe for the writer and the reader as well. The poems in this book says how the world as it exactly is, never an escape.

Some of the poems in the book were genuinely great and it pushed me to read it over and over, which in turn explains my late review for the book!

The things that run inside a 20ish women’s mind about first dates, work, home, dates, Friday nights ,men, love, breakup , and to all the other wired feelings that run around like crazy in the mind were all been fished out and given words but interestingly in a different way.

I’ve shared some of my favorite quotes form the book…

I lost my heart and never found it
To be honest I never tried
Because it felt good to have burnt in passion
Which forever, I thought had died

Let’s not make any compromise whatsoever
And live today, as if we had forever

Good read if you are planning for something out of the routine and different!

Sleepless nights..

The night was more beautiful than ever,
And now my eyes are scared,
For the night may just end,
If the sleep creeps in..

Wide awake ,
Counting the bumps on my ceiling,
Wide awake,
Listening to the crickets sing..