500 followers – My Delirious Speechlessness

My blog’s family reached over 500 followers today! It’s been growing at a steady rate in recent times for which I couldn’t be more grateful. When I started out, I used to pen down my thoughts and never expected anyone to read a word of it. Basically, it was an online version of a dear diary. Gradually, I started writing on topics that mattered to me, that touched my heart and the ones I could not go to sleep without talking about. That’s when people started reading and responding to my posts. With your love and constant encouragement, I even started writing poetry. Something I thought I could never do. Surprisingly, you did not shy away from showering your love on all my poems. So much so that poetry has become my primary form of writing these days.

Your comments have been kind and motivating. What greatly humbles me is that more than 500 writers and readers out there found my blog worthy enough to give it a place on their regular reading list. What inspires me is the number of beautiful souls that have reached out to me by way of this blog. You are, each on of you, a blessing. Especially when I look at your thoughts on my posts pertaining to social justice, feminism, mental health and the like.

I believe it is an unparalleled feeling to come across a kindred soul. Today, I’m proud and grateful for having an entire community of kindred souls.

Like I keep saying, my door is always open for all of you. Be it to discuss important world events, personal experience, to have a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, a friend to confide in, an agony aunt or even someone to just share a moment of silence with, I’m always here for you. I promise to uphold this no matter how large this family grows.

I’m elated, delirious, overjoyed and beyond thankful. Thank you!

I would also like a moment to ask you to be kind enough to let me know in case there is any particular topic in your mind that you would like me to write on. I’m always open to ideas and nothing would make me don my writing hat faster than a suggestion by one of you.

Furthermore, I try to visit blogs of everyone who likes, comments and follows my blog. In case I’ve missed out on doing so, I assure you it’s entirely inadvertent. If there’s any piece of writing that you would want me and other fellow bloggers to read, please leave a link for it on the comment section down below and I’ll do so right away.

Thank you for being the wonderful people that you are.

Forgive me my rambling and repetitions. I’m truly happy. I’d never thought I’d reach this milestone. Now that I’m here, I’m raring to write more and read even more!

Lots of love,


PS. – As you can see from my picture, I’ve been reduced to doing monkey shenanigans in order to cope with this news. 🙈


The Way it Ends

The way it ends

Is never a testament

To the beginning of it all

The way it ended

Usually defines

How the mighty fall

If it ends

They hurriedly justify

Calling it doomed from the start

What have no end

But ever grow

Are matters of the heart.

The first line of this poem also reminds me of a song called ‘The Way It Ends’ by Landon Pigg. It’s one of my favourites, although it’s context is quite distinct from the poem. If you fancy a listen, I’m popping the link for it down below.

As always, thank you for reading!



Shore to Sail

In life we dread

Choppy waters,

And we tread


Steering clear,

Lest we get sucked into a whirlpool.

For the mighty ocean has claimed many a life,

Promptly becoming a floating grave

Engulfing men in its watery depths so cool.

With an aura of mystery,

And the promise of adventure,

The sea of life

Ceaselessly beckons

Yet we drop our anchors

Near the shore

Ignoring the summons

Never venturing to the fore

But listen to this, loud and clear,

Tides will come

And tides will go

But we are ships.

And ships, my dear,

Ships will sail.

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Sometimes she wished she could have foreseen,

The ravaging savagery of what had been.

In the inky, faraway depths of her mind

She still carried a torch for him.

Getting lost in the flickering flame,

Unable to find her way back home.

Wandering in the labyrinth,

Hallucinating, as if on absinthe.

Seeing his silhouette framed in every door,

She fell deeper, floor by floor.

Fleeing was not an option yet,

For a solution that would not beget.

She could escape the man he was- the one that had torn her apart,

But there’s no running from her own heart.

So, she reminisces how it all came about,

Still struggling to find a safe way out.

Featured Image: Anwita Mukherjee

For more poetry, please click here. Please leave your thoughts and comments down below, I’d be delighted to get a feedback. Thank you for reading!

Catch up with me on social media-

We’re All Mad Here

Holding on to the last dregs of my sanity

Hanging on precariously by a rapidly thinning thread

I was ready to give up

To let go

To enter into freefall

To make it or break it

Didn’t matter any which way

But you,

You, with all your care and tenderness

You made me give up the fight

With quite the opposite result

I found acceptance in your tender gaze

I revelled inside my mind

There was nothing wrong with how I saw the world

Even if there was judgment in how the world saw me

Sanity is relative

Normality, an illusion

And like the Cheshire cat said

We’re all mad here.

For more poetry, please click here. Please leave your thoughts and comments down below, I’d be delighted to get a feedback. Thank you for reading!

Catch up with me on social media-

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Fair Tidings

Out wandering again tonight.
Counting stars
Under their twinkling light.
No order to their chaotic mess
Defining beauty nevertheless.
A subtle yet profound reminder
Of the mystery that is life.
From chaos stems order,
From order rises mayhem.
Nothing permanent,
But everything sublime.
Create, destruct and redefine.
Like a phoenix rising from its ashes,
Like dust returning to dust.
No end, no beginning
To this circle of life.
It loops over and over again.
Don’t fret,
Breathe in, breathe out.
Chaos is only a harbinger
Of favorable changes in tides.
Anchors aweigh!
Feel the wind in your hair
Adjust sails,
And you’ll be all set.

Images courtesy: Dhananjay Bhati

The Magic of Fall

A plaid scarf wound round the neck,
Thick leggings adorned those lovely legs,
A cup of pumpkin spice latte in one hand,
And a cinnamon roll held carefully in the other.
A whiff of the two, combined with the weather
Made everything seem cozy and set her heart a-flutter.
She made her way under cloudy skies,
Making sure to step on all the crunchy leaves.
A smile crept sweetly upon her face.
Basking in the beauty of fall,
She dared to believe she could conquer it all.

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A Midwinter Night’s Tale

Of cold nights

And summery dreams.

Of dampened flames

And rekindled love.

Of embers bright

And memories sweet.

Of icy winds

And blankets warm.

A hearth, a bed, a couch, a rug,

A heart, a face, a song, a love.

He had asked me what winters reminded me of.


He put himself on fire

Hoping that the flames

Would guide you in the dark.

All you had to do

Was douse it when you could

But you let it rage on.

Now you wish for someone

To be your guiding light

But the bridges that you’ve burnt

Can never become alright.

So cry, cry on till you can cry no more

And wonder why every match you strike

Refuses to light up anymore.


The void grew,

Darker and stronger;

Sucking in every ounce of her happiness,

Like her own, personal black hole.

The nightmares grew,

Scarier and vivider,

Till she forgot to tell the real from the imagined

And continued to merely exist in this hellhole.

Existing, not living.

Surviving, but barely so.

She desired one last drink From the fountain of Life,

But for her there remained only the last of dregs.

That light at the end of the tunnel?

It was ever elusive, like a shimmery mirage.

No silver lining existed in her dull, cloudless sky.

No sliver of hope shone through from the dense foliage closing in on her.

A hollow shell of her former self,

She still endured.

Why though? One might ask.

She’d manage a barely there smile

And reply,

Sometimes, it takes a while

For a carnage to get cleared.

Sometimes, one needs to take some time

To examine their own wreckage.

Sometimes, you need to stay broken,

Before you start to heal.

So instead of a patchwork of wounds, cuts and bruises,

You can feel whole again.

Sometimes you need to drown in a chasm,

For your lungs to open up.

You gasp, you flail, you think you’re about to die;

But you see, darling, the order of life,

You need to sink, before you can swim.

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