Haunt of Memories

So many questions haunting my heart,

Plaguing-ly close, yet miles apart..

Same old soul wearing a mask,

So much to say and much more to ask..

Years it has been, still wounds afresh,

Done and dusted, the stories, yet tears rush..

Heart yearns to know if you still remember,

Or was it all a bad dream on a cold November?

Drifting this path laid by the destiny,

Same old eyes, searching for answers hopelessly,

So many questions still haunting my heart!


On fire!

The flames sparkled , red with fury,

Envious lips licking away,

Everything that lay beneath and beyond..


Heat strewing, wave after wave,

Vicious eyes gobbling the sight,

Each flame shimmering and shuddering..


Dare kindle the ember,

Rapacious hands dragging in,

Every speck alight and ablaze..


Far away , in the distance,

Still feeling the heat arise,

Skin crawls, fear in the air,

Or is it just hatred?



The hopeless romantic

A hopeless romantic I was,

Awaiting the perfect guy,

Abs check, smile check,

Eyes check, love check.


The checks never were filled,

Until I met you.

The hopeless romantic..


Together we were,

Like a novel and a story,

You be the hero while,

I be a better me..


Love was the cloud mansion,

We lived and cherished.

The hopeless romantic..


Living a dream, it was,

Right out of a fairy tale.

Big ballrooms and gliding gowns,

Doting dances and twinkling tiaras.


The aircraft afloat,

Had a sudden crash,

The hopeless romantic, suddenly awake!


They pointed her,

Speculating the pilot,

For she was the one,

Who steered through this wonderland.


Throw the dams open,

Mend that broken heart,

The hopeless romantic ..


Well, her dream never knew,

The cloud was just a whole lot of dust,

And novels can exist without stories!

The hopeless romantic moving to a hopeful life..


What more is happiness?

The withering skin was still taut,

With pride and gleam in her eyes.

‘Must have been a beauty then’,

People whispered, humbly though.

Pearls and ruby she adorned,

The chestnut diamond pendant suited,

like it was carved just for her.

Taking her stand like every other day,

In front of her high-tagged laptop,

her eyes watered with happiness,

Seeing her grandchild from across the oceans.

‘Hey sweetie!’, she said in a quivering tone,

‘When you come home to India,

Nanny will hug you forever and never let you go!’,

She lied, a heartfelt lie.

A tear dropped down as she wiped it,

With the end of her silk sari.

Heavy-hearted she waved to her laptop,

A thing that has all intelligence yet no heart and no feelings!

The withering skin was still taut,

With pride and gleam in her eyes.

She wore an old cotton sari,

Walking with no sandals on her feet.

She tackled the hot sun and the dripping sweat,

With a smile which she could never conceal.

Asking what the reason was,

She gently replied,

‘Waiting with my grandkid in the bus stop,

She recited many rhymes for me,

Half I didn’t get the meaning to!

Wanted to gift her with something

So, dug my purse to find only a rupee.

I raced to the shop and got a little chocolate,

Gifting to my child, to see her smile.

What more is happiness that I could ever get?’

A tear dropped down as she wiped it off,

With the ends of her old sari,

Living a thousand lives in that single smile!

What more is happiness?


P.C : pinterest.com

Known, yet who?

The cold drug hitting a high,

Syringe still stuck on her wrist,

Her mind travels with a pace more than light,

Hitting the space and back again.


‘Easy’, shout her mates as she topples over,

Walking behind every shadow,

Every illusion, every image from the past.


They are clear like real,

Everything in place,

Not a part apart.


Her mind racing her thoughts again,

Holding her head while it goes for a spin,

She sees that women.


Seems known yet unknown.

As she reaches to touch her,

Her eyes go blind with pain,

A shrill cry harrowing her ears.


A moment past,

She’s on the ground,

Hands around ears, held tight.


People stare at her,

But the one pair of eyes that invite her,

Across the road, the lady’s.


She chases her,

Running, tripping, up again,

After the lady.


As she runs out of breath,

Heart pounding hard,

Stops, unable, gravity pulling down.


The lady stands there,

Right next to her,

Leaning on the wall, breathless.


Tattered clothes,

Unkempt hair,

Bloodshot eyes, yet familiar.


Those pathetic eyes begging for some help,

As her hand reaches the lady to help,

It is herself, whom she touched.


To a new year..

Today is the day where the past gets past,

A new is born, they say..


Thinking of it,

The past, barely gets past,

For it is still a fresh paint,

In your old canvas..


Was it the Blackest Black or the Pinkest Pink,

Or a more sensible color,

No one knows!

For it was you,

You alone, who chose the color..


If there was a scratch made,

By someone you trusted,

It’s easy to blame and carry the scar.

But it takes all the power,

To reinvent a sketch from the scratch..


For every second that sculptured you,

For every minute that painted your canvas,

For every hour spent on shaping the clay,

For the year that created memories..


As the world celebrates the arrival,

A brand new year, with brand new possibilities..

Happy New Year!



P.S : And if you are watching FRIENDS,

Rather than kissing at midnight,

Your life is just as awesome as mine! 😉


Stirring the fresh made brew,

A soothing aroma circles the air,

Rising the rusted memories with it..


It’s the same ol’ kitchen,

The same ol’ kettle,

Same ol’ me and the same ol’ smile..


With the clock striking 5 O’,

Raiding mom’s precious kitchen,

Rattling all long, brewing tea for the first time..


Of time and people,

Who came to love the aroma with me,

Who tried it just for the sake of me,

Who made me take pride in my brew..


With every sip and slip,

A story lingers the brim of my mug,

Ready to flow as ink on a paper,

Ready to make a mark..


Of lost time,

Of lost people,

Memories made, never fade,

As well, my hot cuppa!



Image courtesy : celebritychef.tv

Classroom Confessions..

The words are flying out with a high velocity,
Too fast that my ears are just clogged with letters,
Space inside my head too cramped to let it in,
Urging it to pass over my head,
Or tossing it back to where they came from!

But unfortunately they came from the man at the dais,
With whom my mind plays tricks matching cartoon characters,
Certainly not the charming ones, probably clowns and villains,
The professor with a cape floating behind, bewitched,
And bad luck, he wouldn’t stop attacking with his weapon of words!

My highly dramatic eyes rolling every two minutes,
Wrist turning itself to catch the time,
As my eyes literally shout, ‘Move it’, to the hands inside my watch,
Usually lazy legs tapping impatiently today,
Ready to run away on the slightest sound of the bell!


P.S: One more boring day with teachers inspiring me to write poems 😛

The red-flower

The flickering light bulb above my head,

Tired are my eyes begging for rest,

But this passion within, it’s still burning,

Like the red flower that the human-cub found,

Glowing, sparkling, setting the whole forest on fire!







The brew glided in the cold air,

Elegantly, like a serpent around a tree..

The aroma of the coffee beans,

Circling like a bumble-bee..

The taste tingling the tongue,

Refusing to leave,

Like a puppy circling your leg..

Who said only booze has hangover?


Daily Prompt:Aromatic