Creative block

Soaring high, all over the blue sky

in an effortless flight, much like

a free flowing pour.

Of imagination. Creativity.

All of it and much more.

And then an image,

is juxtaposed –

a burdened flight

choked with grandiose

and flowery seams.

Restrained and redeemed.

Commanding almost, a certain


Set in it’s ways

and not free to be owned.

Creative block

a carefree thought

taking it’s time to turnout.

Doesn’t it shrivel and die?

Are we too quick to decide?

Or, are these things bound to die?

That initial spark with a promise to last,

where does that go? When everyday gets a hold?

or, is the mundane the beauty it boasts?

When other things become important

and you’re just waiting to get a hold

doesn’t it shrivel and die?

The happiness you thought you’d forever have

will it really be?

Or, is it a mirage, like the oasis

on a heated patch of land?

Maybe, forever is just a hoax –

what you have now is all you have.

I wonder,

doesn’t it shrivel and die?

When there’s nothing to hide?

When there’s no mystery, no facade

and all the risks are analysed before time?

Where does it all go – that charm,

that getting lost, and

not looking so alarmed?

Maybe, it’s the everyday catching on,

causing it to normalise.

The forever stays forever, a term

set in future, with no seal, date or time –

a foolish trick we all live by.


Everyday catches on, 

Replacing the spark with a flame 

Endurance. Patience. No complains. 


Goodbye Libre

Four years. Yes, four.
That’s how long it’s been.
An escape. A safe haven. A place to grow.
Simple. Clean. My space, you know?
Four years of writing
Of sharing my all
Just a silly click and it’s all gone
Well, not gone per se
Just the face of it
The clean, easy-going charm of it
New things are to happen to it now
A growing I guess in a new way
At first, I thought it was irreversible
An identity lost with a four-year cost
It’s not that bad, it’s just a ‘moving on’
To better things, to newer skins
The consumer in me trying to justify it
Leaving old sights and feels behind
That’s what the system says
Not that bad, just a moving on, to a
Bigger. Brighter. Better face.
Say cheese and welcome the change babe!

Too rigid?

I say I see all sides.
The blacks and whites, the greys behind
Do I really? I’m in a bind
There are days I hate some
There are days I love them
What is it that I love-hate?
Them or what they see?
Or are we all that we see?
Will I ever be fine with all the shades?
The blacks and whites and the greys?
I thought I see all sides
Facets, facades, and flights
Am I too lost in mine?
To take what comes  With no-bind?
Today I love
Day after I hate
Is there a balance I’m trying to find?
And like always
I say I see all sides
The blacks and whites, the greys behind

Extroverted Introvert

In a crowd, on her own
Liking her own company
Not much of a social butterfly
But one that likes fantasies
Being on her own, very quiet
Not challenging any benchmark,
titles, if any. Life of an extroverted
Introvert. Yes, you’re reading titbits
Of how it feels. Reaching the outside
To recharge, make meaning if any
Hiding back in when overwhelmed
Maintains a dairy. Talks to herself.
Stays indoors for days. Finds the sun
To warm up and get rid of the haze.
Dresses up, waltz around
Feeling very pretty!
Scared of all the divas, politicians too
Socialising? Doesn’t understand much.
Simple thought simple living
Live and let live and keep it spinning
Extroverted Introvert.
Not challenging. Not laughing.
In a crowd, on her own
Liking her own company


Have you seen my Zen?

Baby, come back to me
Remember me. 
Baby, come back to me
Remember me
Fresh out of a black and white 
on just one screen
My eyes. I see. I see you. 
Baby, come back to me
Detached. Alone. Wise.
Very bold. Hidden. 
Broken too. Hidden. 
Independent. Still hidden. 
Remember me
Let's set the scene
You and me, what could've been
a space of our own
unknown to all known
Still playing on the movie screen
Remember me 
I hope you don't hide too long
Baby, come back to me
It kills me to see you leave
We're meant to be
Don't you realise
what you meant to me?
It isn't a mystery

Beautiful brown

We look at so many. 
There are brief encounters
Some are deep and steady. 
For a while to eventually break off 
every set has a story to say,
I'm busy, talk to me, I'm closed
So much more. 
Finding that one pair that is home
It takes a while. 
Eyes. Windows to the souls. 
Unwavering. True. Deep.
Should someone let you see
See and not look. Read. 
Eyes, they're windows to the soul.
I've seen a pair. Beautiful brown
Warm and there, there for me. 
Let's me in, into the soul it carries
And reads right back. It's endearing.
It is a window to the child within
That I know
Past the glaze of all it has seen
Lies a purity, an innocence 
Clouded by words, hidden by tones
A 'fitting the world' one does
My pair, my window
To innocence.
To happyness. No facade. 
Let's me see both ways
Them and right back. 
Beautiful brown. 
I've found them. 
We look at so many. 

of the past

Not so long ago 
there I was, trying, too hard
to fit in, to be someone
I clearly was not
in a land far, far away
with a bundle on my head
too heavy to carry
of worries of this world 
of making it work
all alone, to only know later
that I was on my own
Scary is the word 
that falls off of my lips
when I think of it
Not so long ago
there I was, trying, too hard
to fit in, to be someone
I clearly was not
too little to know 
too little to understand
yet I had a bold facade
I would smile
I would nod
I would act 
like someone I was not
growing up, too fast 
to fit in, in a world
that wouldn't let one
fit in. There I was
in a land far, far away
with a bundle on my head
too heavy to carry
of worries of this world
of making it work
all alone, to only know later
that I was on my own.

Little birdie

Let go she said to herself
Let go of all the worries
There's a little bird called Faith
Let her hop in and show you the way
Walk around the garden of nowness
It's beautiful. Take in all that you see.
Deep breaths. 
Let go little girlie, too much,
you've put on your head.
Close your eyes. 
Take a deep breath in.
This is life. 
Let Faith show you around
There's a lot to see.


There is a thing I want to write about.
Write to explore, the uneasy feeling
building up, every two days or more. 
It's like there's no air and there's 
this old-ish smell, hanging, mourning
the loss of something that's slowly 
losing care. I cannot pin point on
what it is, however, it is bothersome. 
Maybe, it is a state of mind, or 
maybe it is more. 
There is a something 
I want to write about, waiting 
for it to be clear.