nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent

i will wait...

just sometimes wonder
what happens to the thunder
where does it go
after making us so low
spoiling our mood for the day
and go on its own way

to thunder i cannot talk
but you i stalk
to ask why you, like the thunder,
walked away after making that blunder
not once turning to me
asking how i want us to be
you just went away..never ever to be seen again
at least the thunder will not be so evasive
i will wait...to see him again

Me and you

Hear me out
And I'll listen too
It can't work
For only you

Communicate
And I'll talk too
Let me have
The friend in you

Give me love
And I'll care too
Try for me
Just once, can you?

Hold my hand
I'll guide you too
Can I have
That part of you?

Pat my head
I'll caress you too
I crave for
Your touch and you

Look at me
I'll look at you
Where did we
Lose me and you?

Dilemma

Why should I be the one
Crying out in pain?
Why should it be me
Alone, going insane?

Why isn't there someone
To hear me late at night?
When I'm screaming, shrieking
Silently in fright?

What is it that stops me
From pouring out my heart?
Who is it that tells me
To stop just when I start?

Why am I bearing this?
Who taught me restraint?
Who told me I'm not important?
Who told me to be a saint?

I'll do it my way from now
I've now understood
The side of me you always dreaded
Is out now - for good

Where have I gone?

Where have I gone?
I thought I was right here..
Yet so far away..
Little realising that I am
Where I am
It is the people around me
Whose faces have changed
They look red
They look black
They look green
Now - they look white
It's as if all substance
Has been sucked out of them
But I...
I am even more now
Even more alive
Even more awake
But for that..
For that I had to empty them
Without any regret

Sunset...violent?

Lying on bed,
Thoughts rushing through my head
Deafening phone ring,
Amidst the quiet - does sting

A knife, a gun
Someone's hair in a bun
A loud gunshot,
Murderers smoking pot

Friends sitting huddled together,
Rings of smoke in the air
Looking at one another,
Yet none can even an image register

Look out at the sunset,
Does it look violent even though it's red?

Empty is...

Empty is the hand
Of a beggar desolate and
Forlorn, sitting on the walk
His tongue not letting him talk
Eyes, moist yet dry
Getting no sympathy, as hard as he may try.


Empty is the life
Of a lonely dedicated wife
Waiting all day long,
Trying to cheer up with a song,
For something lost long ago
It's impossible, deep down she does know


Empty is the view
From a window, polished and new
Looking out at the concrete jungle
With nothing warm or humble
Cold and bare, nothingness does stare
At us, instead of life in the cool, fresh air.



Empty is the chair
In a room, isolated, deprived of air
Dentures and spectacles on the table next,
A little looking glass sitting on some text
A missing old fellow, white moustache, no hair
Isn't there anymore, at peace somewhere


Empty is the world
Of a little girl, lying curled
In a dry, smelly gutter
She cannot even mutter
A word to tell
The intensity of the disaster that fell.

Ode to the daybunkers

O brave fellowmates of mine
With enthusiastic energy divine
You climb walls risking your life
It really must be such a strife
I listen in awe to your stories
Of hiding and traveling and other glories
In amazement I listen to how
You fooled all your teachers, wow!
I think about your ability
To lie, to run; what mobility!
Your power to open up shops at dawn
Then the thrill and excitement go on
As you gulp down drinks, devour street food
Watch new movies, over the heroes brood
Then relax at one of your homes
Chilling in the AC, eating ice cream cones
Until it's time to go back to school
And catch your buses, feeling just so cool
I wish even i had the courage
To escape, leaving behind the baggage
Of all my fears, values and morals
But somehow I can't be disloyal
To people who've taken care of me
In lieu of mere honesty
But I do salute you, O brave souls!
For being so fearless and bold!

What Poetry Means To Me

What poetry means to me
I cannot begin to express
For it may mean a lot
That silent kept is best

Poetry, we can say
Is what makes you feel free
It's not like Maths
Limited to one, two, three
Or as heavy and restricted
As Physics or Chemistry

The world of poetry is another
A world visible to none
A world that hides forever
Once the poet is done

A world with a thousand rooms
Each with a different view
The challenge is to find yours
And transform it into something new

Into something that's appealing
Into something with a meaning
For that's what poetry is
Something that's heart-stealing

Poetry is how you put things
In the most beautiful way
It matters 'how' you say it
Not 'what' you do or say

There's no right or wrong
It doesn't have to be in sing-song
It's a voice from the heart
You'll hear it once you start!