An Ode to Time

Time passed by

Like the ebb and flow

Of a long meandering stream


Time stood still

Like the countless hours

Of a subconscious dream

Time broke down

Like two lovers

Embroiled in a fight

Time rose up

Like the first ray of light

Time was there

Before it all began


After it all ended

There was only time


Somewhere out there


When we least expect it

We’d find truth

And realise

It’s neither dark nor does it shine

Instead, it is sublime

It’s neither a fact

Nor a notion

It’s never static

Nor in motion

It travels in no single, straight line

Truth is simply a measure of time

The distance between your heart and mine


You could travel far and wide

And send me pretty, little postcards

I’d savour them as much as your name at the end of the page

And I’d cherish them still when they’re faded and unrecognisable



I dream of people, not places

I look at words, not faces.

Shayara ~ Poetess

Mai Shayara hu, Sahib

Aap meri aawaz rok sakte hain

Alfaaz nahi

Mere khwaab tod sakte hain

Khayal nahi

Meri hakeekat mod sakte hain

Sawaal nahi

Mere aansu baha sakte hain

Muskurahat nahi

Meri jaan cheen sakte hain

Zindagi nahi

Mai shayara hu, Sahib

Aap kya hi kar sakte hain

[I am a Poetess, Sir

You can stop my voice

Not my words

You can break my dreams

Not my thoughts

You can turn/bend/warp my reality

Not my questions

You can induce my tears to flow

But my smiles are my own

You can take my life

But cannot erase my life

I am a Poetess, Sir

What can you even do? Or There’s nothing you can do]

Dua (Prayer)

Tiramisu or Red Velvet

Whatever be your preferred sin

May you always have a hint of sweetness

On the tip of your tongue

Mountain peaks or sandy beaches

For vacation or a business trip

May your legs always take you places

From amongst yours wildest dreams

Summery sadness or wintery gloom

Torrential showers that often spell doom

May you always have a shelter over your head

And a warm hearth to call a home

Sultry red wine or the brashness of beer

May you be blessed in abundance with liquid cheer

And your kitchen should always chime and resound

With the sound of two glasses clinking together

Peppy beats or soulful restraints

May you always fall asleep to harmonic strains

Vice or virtue

Sin or righteousness

May you always have the freedom of choice


I saw daffodils

In February

And they reminded me of you

A tad before their time to bloom

Yet spreading cheer from across the room

They make for such a pretty ruse

Even becoming a great poet’s muse

But I, I know what they really are

Golden and glittery but far from actual gold

One whiff of you and man’s very soul is sold

I saw daffodils

In February

And they reminded me of you

Just Another Girl

I’m not good friends with the mirror on my wall

But I sometimes stop to stare through glass windows

Looking from outside in

Warm strangers wrapped up in their own cocoons of conversation

Raindrops trickling down

Baristas hiding their harrowed day behind plastered smiles and cordial hellos

Children running around

On a sugar high

The bitter sweet aroma of coffee cutting through the dense air

I’m not okay with the fad of gymming

But I sometimes take long hikes

Up a meandering trail

Through woody terrains

And green foliage

Pausing to let a small animal cross the path

Or hurrying to give a squirrel some chase

Till I reach a sudden clearing

Where, upon resting, I feel a sense of belonging

Where solitude does not invoke questions

But is the most sacred of traditions

I’m no fan of navigations apps

I sometimes prefer to stop at corners

And ask directions from vendors along the way

I don’t mind getting lost at times

Or even late

For the journey is almost always more fulfilling than the destination

The path strewn with a myriad adventures

They ask me how I am how I am

They ask me if I ever tire out

They ask me if I’d ever comply

And make a complete turnabout

And I get so confused

Wondering why

They’d ask something so obvious


I’m just another girl, like no other girl.


The nature of life is such that it goes on. Moments, people, places and things may get left behind but we, we still move on. A path forged with pain and troubles is our lot. Yet we snatch moments of joy along the way, more often than not. Our complaints of today, seem like trifles tomorrow. People unknown today may become soul mates tomorrow. We could travel to the ends of the world, thinking of a land before time and still be unable to find ourselves, despite not really being lost. Yet, sometimes, a lazy day at home in your softest pyjamas, off the grid, may become the awakening you’d never even hoped for.


If the world were perfect, it wouldn’t be.