For one from the lush green tropics,
The bare white cold was oddly familiar-
Like a remembrance of the old and faint
A wisp of a thing, fleeting yet real
Like a memory of the immortal soul
And not of young mind, not from this life.

Strangely for a sweet summer child*,
Snowed-in white winters were love-
Dark, grey days, long, chilly nights
A hiding sun, in the overcast skies
The deep eerie quiet broken by winds
Wailing and howling with no respite.

Yet there was joy: in roaring fires
Soft, cozy blankets and woolen socks,
Mugs of hot cocoa, leisures of warmth,
Bundled-up walks, clasped gloved-hands-
The humans persevere; survive and thrive,
In warm embraces with those whom we love**.

* Acknowledgment to George R. R. Martin’s ‘A Song of Fire and Ice’ series, Book 1: ‘A Game of Thrones’.

** Wishes, wishes! There’s a country (tumultuous and restive today!) that will always be home, a place that is now a home (of sorts)… and then there’s this country that I wish would be my home. Now what is “home“, again? ❤ G.

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The Winding Path Home

The trick is in learning how to turn it off.
Not watch the clock hand ticking,
Nor check for messages to be read
Or wait by the phone, willing it to ring!
Good things take time, their own sweet time,
Wait in your heart, in your head and let it go,
Trust it to come back when it truly knows.
Meanwhile, live. In the moment, in the hour
Enjoy the anticipation, the trepidation-
The joys, the fears and the wild expectations!
Whatever will be, always will be-
Whether you will it or don’t really mean it
When the time comes, it will find its way on its own,
And be yours; from here to together, finally home.

N.B. Inspirations, more often than not, come from within. It whispers, ‘patience, dear heart, patience’… Love, G.

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My feet slipped a little; the heels slid
In the little nooks on the cobbled path
The fresh snow quick and nimble,
Covered my steps: I was never here!
The passerby barely glanced back,
With the merest of double-takes
Almost indiscernible to myopic eyes
Almost. Except for the tingling feeling
On my neck, running down the spine
And I knew. Knew what I didn’t remember.
You were there, you were here-
And not a ghost who’d silently passed by.

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Catharsis XX: Changes!

I haven’t been cathartic in a while now, and a non-sappy, non-complaining, definitely non-melodramatic, less-attempt-to-rhyme, down-to-earth, realistic, therapeutic yet sarcastic post is long over due. Of course, I may not deliver on any of them or manage to get them all but the last few months’ worth of drivel that I have been churning out (and calling them “poetry”) has made me unrecognizable to myself. Where is thy razor-blade tongue, the unforgiving arrogance and that delicate play with words dripping wit? (I think very highly of myself)

So, life has gone topsy-turvy, nothing makes sense, all the planning and plotting fell through unforeseen cracks of shifting tectonic plates and I am loving it. Possibilities, my dear, it’s all about possibilities and opportunities; to begin, to build, then watch it all break down into innumerable pieces, and then with a deep breath to begin all over again.

To throw away the cares of the world, what the world commands you and expects you to do, and to finally follow your heart – it took me thirty years or so to get here and man, have I arrived!

People come back. Even the ones whom you thought were lost over nothing and for life. When the season changes, when we get the wisdom of retrospect, you realize you are not forgotten by the ones for whom once you’d go into battles. Doors close, but others do open. People can be wonderful (can you imagine!), but they often need that one chance to fail before they succeed. No one is infallible. Sometimes one just needs a road back. Yeah, I have become patient, understanding and often forgiving. Forgetting, not yet so much, but I have finally cast aside that heavy, dark cloak of “what people say” “what people think“, and it is simply liberating.

Another lesson: we all hit roadblocks, some more massive than others, one time or another. It never defines us. What defines us how we attempt to recognize it, accept it, accept ourselves and actively fight to survive, to live and then, succeed. We stand up, dust it off and keep moving ahead, even if it is in a painful crawl. We finally stand up and root for ourselves, strive to find everything within us and never look elsewhere for strength, compassion and faith. And again, to my everlasting surprise, people rally. They get behind you, not out of pity or condescending sympathy. They get behind you to lend support, and often to break your fall. Of course, roadblocks are also good checkpoints. For when the dust clears, you get 20/20 vision of the ones who are worth it, and the ones you know you have to leave behind no matter how much it pinches.

Silver linings continued, I have it on good and respectable authority that I have my acerbic tongue back. Apparently, my rudeness adds a charm to my already scintillating personality, and people crave for more. And who am I to deny what the masses want. And despite rather popular opinion, which I consider deeply flawed (ever since the U.S. Elections 2016, campaigns for imminent Indian Elections 2019 and other such political maneuvers ongoing), I have finally been convinced that I am pretty as well. Even without make-up or Instagram filters, with my fat nose and dark circles, I am still quite pretty (with all of the above, it should make me breathtakingly beautiful) and all the not-so-flattering pictures of me are results of amateurs and not-so-fabulous, inexpensive cameras.

So, while change is not exactly invigorating, suddenly I realize I am not averse to new things while enjoying my own exhilarating company and at times with my old gang of devilish friends. And while counting all the silver and golden linings of change, I realized my intelligence sustained through it all, and I may even be scoring higher on the EQ as well. So, I am now brains and beauty. I’d say, I am scoring pretty high on life. Philosophy much?

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I need no gifts, no new words,
No assurances you can’t give
I need no tomorrow-
No promises of no sorrow
I don’t need you to be here-
A warmth, arms to enfold
And shoulders to rest,
Or a thought, I’m cared.
I need nothing to fall back
Upon, when I’m tired
Or to wipe my tears-
When the world’s mis-wired.
I need nobody, want not a thing
I can live on, like it’s nothing.

I lie.

N.B. It’s so easy to keep writing, fabricating emotions, back and forth, like a game. Not my best, never my best, but at least I am writing… ❤ G.

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Shadow dancing


One look here, and another glance there
Gauge, measure that soaring intensity,
Is it just me, or is it you as well?
Trepidations hope, heartbeats in sync
Or, do they beat out of tandem?
A soft brush there, a warm breath here,
Too close, or not close enough?
Eyes don’t match words we speak;
In the charade, we talk, we laugh
Pretend ignorance, as we sense, not hear;
And we keep moving in unspoken synchrony-
An unpracticed choreography lasting eternity;
Tiptoe, tread carefully, delicately-
We circle in our minds, and, we dance.

N.B. Romances are fun! G.

[Image Courtesy]

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At the end of the long, tiring road,
Waited for me, the wide, open arms.
Hastily hidden salty tears mingled
With glowing, spontaneous laughter,
As your arms encircled and enveloped
I close my eyes, peaceful; home, at last.

N.B. It’s so simple to define, and so difficult to reach. 🙂

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1Through the mire, she dragged
On her elbows and knees,
Her battered, bruised self
Bleeding, ragged and ravaged.

Scathing words dealt blame,
Told her, to dress better
Entice and allure lesser-
Be less human, less female.

Cast down eyes cast her out
Refuted her right to survive;
Neither balked nor backed down,
Refused to be refuse, less alive,
For a crime, an onus, not her own,
Relentless, she trudged and journeyed on.

N.B. Some things don’t get said often enough. Though it does seem obvious, we often are oblivious.

Image courtesy

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endurance in silence

Little did she know, the fire that she poured
Burned and razed, heavens and hells galore;
It never paused, it consumed and gnawed-
Till ’twas all that lived, raged and breathed in him.

N.B. Contrary to what we think (or, believe), we never suffer alone.

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After this one


Is there a heaven? Where I can find you again?
An afterlife? With redefined rules, renewed ties?
For you, I will believe, I will try-
To chance tomorrow, rearrange my life;
For if it is not now, it is not not ever-
For I can wait, and wait, hope forever;
For you, I believe, it cannot be the end,
Maybe if not this life, maybe after death.

N.B. Amidst sadness, there’s happiness too. The silver lining maybe… Sometimes that shines gold? I’ll find that one day. And I’ll leave pragmatism for another day and give in to absurd day dreaming today.

P.S. I don’t really believe in afterlife. G.

Image courtesy

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