Her Mistake

This poem is dedicated to all those women who have been victims of assaults. And also to all those who have stood up against such crimes.

Oh well. . . She shouted and she cried

To drive him off, everything she tried

She shouldn't have done that for her own sake

That was, that was her mistake

Oh! She was so alluring

They said reassuring

“It won’t happen isn't just a promise I make

It happened to her as that was her mistake”

She seemed so hot

And her dress was a tad too short

The risk, she herself did take

So that was her mistake

Oh! This nonsense has reached its height

She was a girl who put up a tough fight

She didn't fear him, she didn't shake

Yes, that was, that was her ONLY mistake!

Silent Celebrations

Whole town revels in a festive fervor
And the excitement refuses to die down
The tinkling bells, the soft glowing bulbs
The fresh holly hocks, the satin ribbons
All adore the numerous bustling shops

Kids cry for a yet another balloon
A young couple look for more bulbs
To deck up their Christmas tree laden with things.
Falling under the burgeoning weight of gifts
A girl goes tapping her heels

The ladies look for an embroidered gown
To be worn at the ball tonight
The men go from shop to shop
Looking for the most exotic flowers
To be put in the empty vases back home

Midst all the chaos and the colors
Deep down the alley where darkness creeps
In a house lit by a single lamp
Sit an old couple, wrinkled and pale
Celebrating silence, wanting nothing

They sit holding hands
Sans a fire crackling in the room
The woman's fragile hands into his bony ones
Deep inside, down there
They gaze and gaze
Looking for warmth in each other's eyes

In a derelict Building

A glass phial to treasure my tears

A haunted setting to uproot my fears

A butterfly net to trap my happiness

An old broom to clear the mess

A wonderful toy to ease my stress

A little doll’s comb to smooth my tress

A magic wand to cease my pain

A lot of knowledge for me to gain

Soothing music to free me from agony

Absolute stillness to let me live in harmony

A punching bag to vent my anger

A fruit bowl to satisfy my hunger

A pair of scissors to cut off sad parts

A beautiful guitar to please a million hearts

A box of paint to add some hue

Blank pages and pen to write life anew

I found all this and much more

In a derelict building’s store!

A Mother's Loss

I sent him proudly to that faraway land

To the land where

Death cruelly awaited him.

He was a soldier

He had to go for that war

The war that claimed his life

And made him the nation’s pride

But Oh! Who saw the heart of a mother bleed

As I put up a fake smile

He was my son, my only son

As I wiped the vermillion off his widow’s parted hair

Who saw my hand quiver and shake

They all said I was a brave woman

As they never saw me weep near his grave

But, who saw the tears on my pillow

As I hung it to dry every morning

They said I was so courageous

As I did not wail at his mention

But, who saw me spending sleepless nights

Thinking of him, of his smile

Of how he had promised to return soon

To put his head lovingly on my lap

They said I was a wise woman

As I consoled his child well

But, who heard my silenced cries

As I told his little one

That his Dad would return soon

With his unfulfilled promise of getting him a car

As I stepped on the stage to receive a medal

A medal of his martyrdom, of his bravery

They all hailed him as the pride of the nation

But, Oh! Who saw it as a mother’s greatest loss

The loss of her son, her only son

Who was sent to that faraway land

The land where

Death cruelly awaited him.

The Promise of a Dawn

When the moon sings a lullaby

And thousands of twinkling stars adorn

The endless veil of the heaven

And the little sparrow

Hushes its baby to sleep

In its comfy nest of dried sun hemp

When the crickets’ harsh cries

Make the baby, asleep in the cradle

Wail for his sleeping mother

Lost in her just fantasized dream

Of wonderland and winged white horses

Taking her child to the Isle of Joy

When the frail fingers of the old widow

Touch the corners of her prayer rug

And she spreads it out to kneel before the lord

And moves her lips in a silent prayer

With each word drifting like a leaf

Drifting up to settle in God’s tree

Then, I can see the promise of a new dawn

As the warm rays of the sun hunt down

A leaf at a time, bush by bush

The soil of ground inch by inch

House by house, every surface

Till everything gets engulfed 

In a mystical orange glow. . .  

Chase Your Dreams

Hi everyone! I'm back after a longer than intended break! So, here's a poem on chasing dreams as the title says. . . 

Into the lake and up the peaks

Inside the cervices and the creaks

On a horseback or atop a cart

Chase your dreams from the start

Up a rainbow, down a cave

On the velvety path you pave

Across the world and through a patch

Chase your dreams till you catch

Down the sea and up the plain

Midst the joy and the pain

On a star, go on with zest

Chase your dreams and do not rest

On the bumpy track, a dusty lane

Through the wide doors or window pane

Down a straight way or round a bend

Chase your dreams till the end

Before the Exams: A scene of my room

Written long back but apt for the current situation. . . 

My English book lies in a corner dark

As I try hard to make a mark

In my Math paper, practicing hard

Perhaps being cursed by the long dead bards

Geography and Economics are engaged in serious talks

Of how they used to accompany me to walks

History and the Physics have struck up a friendship

They no longer care about the poor G.K’s gossips

Biology, as usual is loudly snoring

The world of dreams, it is busy exploring

Chemistry is trying hard to guess

The formula of the solutions, without making a mess

The quiet Hindi is smiling at everyone

And the noisy art file is trying to grab my attention

The political Science book is watching them all

Lost in thoughts of coping with the downfall

And the poor Math is digesting all the sums

At times I wonder how messy it becomes

That’s ‘before- the- exam’ scene of my room

It stays like that from morning to noon

Be it the ones chatting or the ones taking a nap

All have the same thoughts-

"I had once rested comfortably in her bag!"