Poetry, Quill

A living, bleeding Threat

This isn’t another rape poem

This isn’t another plea

This isn’t another story about

The howling of our mothers

from being married at fourteen

The reek of alcohol from shanty pub

Where our fathers go and commit adultery

The bloody wounds on our wrists

From being chained by male chauvinists

The white sheets welcoming a bride

For we always have to prove our purity

Being a man isn’t easy

You have to prove your masculinity

By exploiting our fertility

The more hymens you break

The more you prove your virility

Extra points for exerting force

for overstepping your boundaries

But this isn’t another rape poem

This isn’t another plea

For this is a threat

Before you assent to

Trespassing our dignity

Think about our powerful legacy

For when Draupadi was molested,

she washed her hair

with the blood of her own enemies

How Kali, bloodthirsty and fierce

Danced on the constraints of patriarchy

with a garland made of demon’s heads

dangling around her dark, sacred skin

Or how Saraswati picked up a pen instead

And waged a war against society

These goddesses were still women who bled

women who crossed swords with patriarchy

Leaving their mark since centuries

So before you embody rape culture

Before you disdain femininity

Think about how we are together

Not another rape poem

Not another plea

But a living,



to misogyny.

Poetry, Quill


i was down on my knees
heart in my hands,
yearning for your love,
calling out your name,
you won’t ever be
able to feel my pain,
it stings me like a bee,
and the bee doesn’t die
i’ve been played and toyed with
like im a souless human being
like i deserve the pain
my heart has been ripped out of my chest,
Shallow breath razor sharp in my throat,
so here I am,
lying down wondering where did it all go down?
i am lying in the flood of pain, and I am drowning,
Don’t save me this time,
Don’t tell me you love me and that I can trust you,
Let me drown,
Let me go,
Because at the end,
promises are just words.

Poetry, Quill


Under these sheets of time
I search for my name
behind all the fallen borders
Lost I am, in the burning flame –

flames in which my home was melted
given with nothing but grey stones
among these slayers of time
my name mirrors fields of white bones

and desert of death in which my house sleeps
abandoned by laughter, song, and play
where days are washed by a tango of tears …
what other could my name say …

alone, I walk this earth nameless… homeless
for my home is sorrow, my name is pain:
and I bury them under these sheets of time
so it won’t ever happen again …

Poetry, Quill

Rolling Ricks

Never believe a dragonfly,
Gonna take your eyes away,
Give you but a wicked smile,
You wish to find another way,
Up, now, it’s time to go.

Never follow, never be led astray,
Gonna leave you all alone,
Let me guide you through the streets,
You know you want to go home,
Down, it’s alright, go to bed.

Never be heard, nor seen,
Gonna hurt you, let it be,
Run away, I’ll follow you,
Around the eagle’s creek,
And when you least expect it,
Desert your soul, chances bleak,
You know it’s time to go.



there’s a feeling in this wind

it’s new

like the first love’s touch

it’s ticklish

like you writing love letters on my skin

it’s comforting

like you brushing my hair

it’s beautiful

like you.



लिखते तो सब हैं
क्या तुम महसूस कर पाए हो?

कहते तो सब हैं
क्या तुम निभा पाए हो?

अरमान जो देखा था
क्या उसे पूरा कर पाए हो?

गिले शिकवे भी बहुत हुए होंगे
क्या कफ़्फ़ारा कर पाए हो?

भुलाना तो हर कोई चाहता है
यादें मनाने की हिम्मत कर पाए हो?

ख़ुशियाँ तो हर कोई माँगता है
हमदर्दी कभी दे पाए हो?

कभी ग़म समेट कर हंसी बिखरा देना,
कुछ लम्हे बस यूँही बिता देना।

Poetry, Quill

Sit Beside Me

But the best things are meant to end as well,
And anything you feel will always end too soon,
And no sooner will you feel it,
No longer believe it,
But the memory of remembrance with always, ALWAYS stay,
And when you see it again, it won’t feel like home,
You’ll know it’s yours again, but you’re never the same,
And flow again, like dragonflies, for nothing really stays,
But then again, those moments they, they never really go away,
Come again to find me, I’m here on my own,
Sit beside me some day, and leave if you wish,
But be happy that none of us exist.

Poetry, Quill


I know you can,
I know you will,
It’s just another obstacle,
Just another hill,
The shimmer of the twinkling stars,
And the rich vivid sky,
Would heal your scars,
And bring you closer to new highs,
Majestically the birds fly,
And swiftly the fish swim,
Ruminating on their flaws they do not sigh,
Because they are determined, bold and vim.
The lands are free
and the seas endless.
Just as you should be bright and boundless!
And all of this dauntless nature resides inside you.
Because if nature is your life, you are it’s dew.

Poetry, Quill


I’m certain I’m there,
Though I don’t know for sure,
And perhaps I want to believe.

I want to be better,
I tried, I swear,
I tried to never be me.

And that’s what you want,
Oh look here we are,
It was never enough to be me.

Go on then father,
Blessed be thy name,
Go on and make me complete.

Colour your blade,
Bind me in chains,
Slay me or just let me be.

Poetry, Quill


and then there was him,
with his glazed eyes,
he sits and stares
the night sky
wondering “where it all went wrong”
it causes him to scream inside
yet with his face so sweet,
you see nothing but a smile
hiding unspoken words
reciting a poem of his heart.