A day at home

*Trigger Warning : Assume all* For the first time in two decades, I saw life emerging out of my body as if wanting to die another slow death. My mornings have been wreckage I lay awake in bed waiting for the night. Witnessing a slow death is a rare phenomenon, you are not in the…

women unlike me

I often come across women who stay silent despite the agony. Initially it used to enrage me that women don’t have strength to speak up but after understanding things from a better perspective I realized most of us remain quiet for silence is golden unless we cross the level of patience and turn into a…

जंग और हम

जब जंग शुरू हो तो कहीं और चलना जब ज़माना खराब लगने लगे तो कहीं और निकल चलना कह देना दुनिया से कि तुम्हारी मरदानगी इस खून खराबे से साबित नहीं होती कह देना तुम्हें नहीं लड़ना उनसे जो तुम्हारे अपने हैं जो राह से ज़रा भटक से गए हैं, कह देना यह जंग न…

Grieving the grief – Published on Olive Skins

I am honoured to get my poem about grief published in the magazine Olive Skins started by a brilliant poet Devika Mathur. She has taken up a great initiative of bringing surreal poetry to the light. Support her in this initiative by reading and sharing poetry and proses published on the magazine regularly. grief, a…

Parts

Originally posted on Jumbled Letters:
A single part. Double parts, three parts and on and on. Every single life is made up of intermittent parts, with intervals of hollowness in between. The incoherent emptiness that you let out in the asphyxiated air weeps. The persisting parts that hinder. The natural flow of warm. A ghust…