Immeasurable

Who you are

When no one’s watching

Is the true measure of a man

They say

But who are you

Under watchful eyes?

Do you need to hide

Behind a curtain of disguise?

Do you have to pretend

With every breath that you take?

Are you scared of being revealed

Making slips from lips sealed?

Or

Do you need to lie

So they’ll think you’re mighty sly?

Who you are

When no one’s watching

Might make you feel at ease

But who are you

When trying to please

Will bring you closer to your

Own true self.

So, tell me, my dear

Do you know

Who you are?

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Thank God It’s Friday?

On a Friday night

Just like any other

I lay in bed

Without a single bother

The town swirled around me

A blur of coloured lights

People rushed around talking

In a murmured buzz

It was a downright circus, aye

Like a merry-go-round

Running at a nauseating pace

While I stood silently still

At it’s very centre

Strung to it all

Feeling its ebbing throes

Yet disconnected from the throng

Like a marionette

The world passed me by

While I, the very epicentre

Felt like an innocent, dumb bystander

For on a Friday night

Like any other

I lay in bed

Without a single bother

Humsafar

Dekha tha ek khwaab humne bhi magar

Sacchaiya raaste ka kaata ban gayi

Par hum dheeth chalte rahe thokar khaate khaate

Aur manzil khud-ba-khud humsafar ban gayi

Why A Poet #9

I was making a list

Of some of my favourite things

And my pen leaked

A blob of royal blue ink

I watched as it spread

Forming a myriad of shades

Sometimes changing hues

And I realised

My most favourite thing

Is to observe what I see

And pen it down in poetry

So I may remember the mind’s complex mysteries

For all of eternity.

Are you aware of this blog’s running series on why one writes poetry?

No?

Fret not!

I’m popping the links down below and would love to hear what you think! Most of all, I await your own take on why poetry.

Love,

Varnika

Links:

1. Why A Poet
2. Why A Poet #2
3. Why A Poet #3
4. Why A Poet #4
5. Why A Poet #5
6. Why A Poet #6
7. Why A Poet #7
8. Why A Poet #8

A Star is Born

Sometimes in my mind

The heavens and earth collide

Like an explosive segue

Transitioning to a beautiful aftermath

And I see colours

And squiggles

Little dots and curls, a pot-pourried confetti

Sometimes

I even see

A rainbow-esque bridge

And when I walk on it

I know

That

A star is born

Hooked

Under the covers

Snuggling with a book

Was one of my guilty pleasures

In a quaint little nook

What’s yours?

Don’t worry

I’ll preserve all your treasures

Fleeting Hurts

Quote me

To cover up

Some more of your lies

It’s alright

I’ll heal

As time flies

I’ll miss you

Once more

Before my love dies

Baatein Mulakaatein

Humne to bas ek baat kahi thi

Aur aap bewajah hi rooth gaye

Humne toh bas ek mulakaat maangi thi

Aur aap khaa-ma-khaa hi chale gaye

Why A Poet Series Introduction – Long Time Coming

There’s a question I’ve been asked more times than I can fairly remember. Why poetry?

Honestly, I’m always at a loss to answer that. There’s no reason. There are a hundred reasons. It’s an emotion. It’s a vocation. It’s a compulsion. It’s a combustion. Where do I even begin. Where do I end, if there ever is an end to this explanation. And thus, I’m rendered dumb. Every single time.

So, I did what I do best. I wrote it down. Bit by bit. In multiple pieces. It’s still a work in progress. But I believe there’s decent amount of words out there to officially introduce you to my series titled “Why A Poet?”. I’m linking the published works down below. Hopefully, I’ll keep updating this list as and when new pieces are written.

All I can say is that it’s a patchwork quilt of mismatched squares. I can only hope it provides you with enough warmth though.

Here goes nothing (just kidding, please be kind!) –

1. Why A Poet
2. Why A Poet #2
3. Why A Poet #3
4. Why A Poet #4
5. Why A Poet #5
6. Why A Poet #6
7. Why A Poet #7
8. Why A Poet #8

Let me know what you think, please?

And your own thoughts on why poetry? Be it to write or to read or to just feel and imbibe? I’d love to know!

Love,

Varnika

Dance with the Devil?

Have you ever tango-ed

With a one-legged, pink flamingo?

Did you once Cha-Cha-Cha

With a turban clad Maharaja?

Did you dream of a waltz?

With one of the old Russian Tzars?

How about dreamy quadrilles

With a demure queen whose hair curled like tendrils?

And salsa, samba, rumba, zumba

Over beer, vodka, tequila and sangria

Have you ever mixed

A drink and a dance?

and swept royalty off its very feet?

No?

Oh, no!

But I have

and more

For I have words

and a pen

and a spare notebook

but most of all

I have thoughts

and a mind

Prone to flights of fancy