अपनी पहचान

एक एक कदम बढ़ाके तू,
पार करले रेगिस्तान,
दुख-दर्द भुला कर तू,
बना ले अपनी पहचान ।

बगीचे का तू फूल नहीं,
पहाड़ों का नहीं तू वन,
बंजर ज़मीन से उठा है तू,
संघर्ष कर तू हर क्षण ।

नदियों मैं लहरें है आती,
बादल जब बरसाये पानी,
पर तू किसी की राह ना देख,
समुद्र जैसा बन सर्वशक्तिशाली ।

सामन्य न समझ तू खुदको,
श्रम कर और बन तू महान,
दुख-दर्द भुला कर तू,
बना ले अपनी पहचान ।


Self-Healing //

// saying to yourself,
“i’m a nice person and
i did not deserve what happened to me,”
takes a lot of courage
but it is the first step towards healing. //


In A World Better Than This //

// 5:06 pm

a few specks of lilac thrown across the sky

a quiet breeze sways

everything is same

as i wait for you

on that rusted park bench;

only this time-

you come. //



Like the moon,
I emerged at night.
Nourished by the dark,
As flowers are by light.
For goodness,
I battled with all my might,
Yet against the Devil,
I lost the fight.




the scarlet of dusk embraces your sorrows as you fall deeper in love. the words escape her cherry flavoured lips, and stab your heart.

how could someone be such an ecstasy? 

she loves licking the fresh wounds on your neck. her nails trace the lines of your sins, you want to run away. you fail. 

“hold me tight”

she wages war on your thoughts as the sapphire on her neck reflects her power in the dark.

she laces her hands through your long, soft hair

and snaps your neck.

rage surges through her like fire from hell

and blood spills from places you kissed her, while she drags you to the closet door.

                                                         -she’s red.


Freedom (or not?)

All this time

I’ve been told:

It will be okay,

If you keep writing

Within the lines.

You can fly high

But don’t cross the sky.

Someone will always 

Be better than you.

There will be days

When crying’ll be all

You’d wanna do.

You won’t have to suffer

If you stay in your limits.

It’s a tough choice

We all know:

Happiness or safety

The decision will show.

None of this makes sense

Never it will

Because you don’t get it 

The way I do.

For you are not me

And I’ve never been you.


Merging Into the Macrocosm //

// when you dive into the world,
the world also dives into you –
both hoping to fathom what
each other’s chaos hides in
its capricious bosom,
both hoping to discover
uncharted islands lying
deep in each other’s sinews;
so let the world in
let the world explore
and uncover the galaxies
abound in your feeble bones
let it immerse you
in your entirety
until both your seas
coalesce into the
ocean of infinitude. //



It comes like a huge wave of salty ocean water, drowning me, embracing me, making me remember, for I must not forget

The wonder with which I looked at them, in their new and crisp uniforms, looking at different components of the class, thinking which spot would be theirs’ when they won’t be able to fit in, a space, where they could curl up and watch the strangers go about their work, while they would wish they had never left. Here was the bunch of girls, who set out to chart their paths and define their two years in a place which was alien, cold and impersonal

Even though they had a little help from a bubbly ray of sunshine (forced inclusion of the desperate author), they took their time, to feel home. And home it became, gradually, beautifully, like the scroll of our stories unravelling at different stages, knitting us together with memories of a lifetime

We became friends, over gossips, MUN, talent hunt, freshers, farewell and boards. We could fall back on each other, take that leap of faith, share secrets (mostly superficial), and bring the house down with our laughter.

We perfected our stalking skills, staring and following techniques, gushing and blushing tactics, and above all our common hatred for a group of repulsive people

This time refuses to leave me, as each face appears in my head, like a movie playing on a projector, Kriti, Tanvi, Sehaj, Harshita, Himanshi, Agrita, Vrinda, Prerna, Ritika, Raiza and many more…..

Is it nostalgia that I feel today? That emptiness you feel sometimes, where you just wanted someone to crack a weird joke, or comfort you when you wished to disappear, give you strength and be ready to fight for you. Because I was loved and cared for by people, whose happiness would make me go bazinga!

It strikes, in the middle of a lockdown, that you miss your friends, and wish to see them, knowing that this dream is too farfetched to be true

Nostalgia is one wicked twit.