Tag Archives: literature

Life an Ugly Cousin



Life an Ugly Cousin


I cry again

Like a monotonous ritual

Invisible in my sorrow

Tears in the rain


What I thought I felt

Wasn’t  love

It was but a delusion

Of a needy mind


I wasn’t aware that…

My ability to endure

Is tremendous

To sustain abuse



I long, crave to collapse

To dissolve in my unhappiness

I can’t

It  just won’t happen


At times like these

Death sounds sublime

A beautiful thing

And life an ugly cousin

Love Is…



Love Is…


Love is innocent

Love is pure

Love is tough

It can endure


Love is a rock

It stands the test of time

Love is tender

A sweet surrender


Love is honey

Yet it can taste bitter

Love is desire

Sets hearts a twitter


Love is work

May take years to master

A genuine effort

Can unravel this twister


Love is weird

Hard to comprehend

It is a riddle

A never-ending maze


Love is pernicious

Most fall victim

Remedies are simple

A look, a touch, a dimple.

A Gargoyle in my Suitcase… Me and I


Seen at the Denver Airport Baggage Claim

Me and I (A Conspiracy Theory)


When I stumbled onto me
A weirder thing could never be

We are but one and the same
Yet go by different names

We share the same vessel
Yet forever tussle

Like a gargoyle in my suitcase
A stranger in the mirror

I’m in a quandary
Am I…I, or am I me?

Seed Of Doubt

 seed of doubt

 Once you encounter

the Seed of Doubt

It is really tough

To get it Out


It starts to flourish

And spread its roots

It feeds itself

Sprouts new shoots


It manipulates your mind

It poisons your soul

What you hear, see or say

Isn’t under your control


The longer you leave it be

The stronger the affliction

Soon there’ll be no remedy

From this evil addiction


The only antidote if any

Is to sow the seed of trust

Nurture it with tender loving care

And protect it you must

Windmills of My Mind

skr enigma

Windmills of My Mind


Sometimes up, sometimes down
Sometimes bright, sometimes brown
Sometimes dubious, sometimes trusting
Sometimes active, sometimes resting

Laughably stupid, or brilliantly keen
Deeply perceptive, or ruthlessly mean
Shifting sands of impersistent thoughts
Windfall of feelings tied up in knots

A waffling chameleon, a steady machine
A virulent tornado, a meandering stream
A beautiful maiden, a gross dream
A sensitive bitch, a stoic queen

4 am musings…

Bear lake RMNP

Bear Lake, Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado USA.


4 am Musings

Loneliness is when you long for company..

Solitude… Hey I’m Cool! ^5


Self Discovery is a journey I embark on whenever a ‘friend’ leaves me.

Guess I’m done discovering myself! Damn it! >:/


I wonder for the nth time: Who am I?
I wonder for the nth time: Who am I?
Hey someone fix that broken record!! <:-|


I think I should thank all those who help feed my ego. I don’t have to track my ‘VIEWS’ anymore! 🙂


It’s another *****new DAY!!! :@


Milan (A Wedding Story) Chap1A: Mili


Milan pronounced [Mil-un] मिलन <- Hindi. Origin: Sanskrit : A coming together.

sneha3 731The Nilgiris or Blue Mountains are a part of the Western Ghats located in the southern Indian state of Tamil Nadu. Coonoor is a town known for it’s production of tea.

Chap 1a: Mili


It was an early Spring morning in the valley. A thick blanket of soft dense fluffy white covered the verdant hills of the Nilgiris (Blue Mountains,) forming an illusion which slowly dissipated as the Sun came up; just like a pleasant dream that dissolves and fades despite desperate attempts to latch on.

A cool breeze pregnant with moisture blew in through the wide open windows of the large villa with the whitewashed stucco walls and the red tile rooftops.

Mili stretched in her bed–long, lazy and limber. It was nice to be home at last and out of the hot and humid climes of Chennai. And this time she was back for good. At least till she could figure out what she was going to do next with her life. For now, she was going to relax, take it easy and get reacquainted with her past.

She got out of bed, ambled over to the window and gazed out at what remained of the beautiful vista that had greeted her for as long as she could remember.

The Serenity tea estate was among the oldest and largest in Coonoor. It had been a part of Mili’s family, the Bharawaj’s, for several decades. From what she had been told, in order to escape the furor and violence that had erupted in the northern territories during the country’s partition in 1947, her grandfather had relocated to the south where the situation was much calmer. After procuring the tea plantation, he had  invested his entire wealth in it and then nurtured it with great love. It had prospered since, producing some of the finest tea in the land and provided livelihood to several families who worked on it.

But times were changing. The nouveau riche, that the country was breeding in plenty, wanted to buy up everything in sight and convert it into residential and commercial real estate. Many of their neighbors had succumbed to temptation, sold their properties for premium prices and moved away, leading to the profusion of brand new construction that blocked Mili’s view.

Mili’s father, Jai Bharadwaj, was among the few remaining proud and stubborn plantation owners who had resisted. But the pressure was mounting. Production was down. Many workers had quit for greener pastures. The house and land was mortgaged up to the hilt, forcing him last year to sell a few hectares in order to break even. Mili knew that it was just a matter of time before their home wouldn’t be theirs anymore. She wished she could help but had no clue how.

She sighed, turning away from the window, “I’ll worry about it later. Right now I need some garama garam (piping hot) chai!”

Wrapping her shawl snugly around her shoulders, she raced through a long open corridor and burst into a large living area startling her mother Kiran, who happened to be deeply immersed in the painstaking task of shelling peas.

“Mili!” She exclaimed dropping a steel bowl on the floor with a loud clatter. Fortunately it was empty.

“Sorry ma! I just couldn’t wait to wish you a very good morning!” Her daughter said, throwing her arms around her mother’s shoulders.

“It’s alright beta(child)” Kiran smiled indulgently at her daughter. They had been playing this game ever since Mili had been in elementary school. Now she was a young woman of twenty four. Habits die hard. She smacked away her daughter’s hand as it sneaked towards the peas.


“Seems like affection continues to flourish between mother and child. How about me? I feel left out.”

Mili looked up and saw her father standing near the main door, ready to leave for work, as usual, sharp at eight.

Papaji (father)!” She shouted, running to embrace his hefty frame which remained straight and strong despite the years that had passed. Only his face showed signs of wear and tear.

Kissing the top of her forehead, he gently stroked her cheek, “You have grown so big, so fast. Time just seems to have melted away. I wish I could ask it to stop, but I can’t.” He said while exchanging a knowing glance with his wife. “I must go now. Have lot of work to do.” He abruptly turned and strode out of the doorway.

“What happened to Papaji, ma? Something I should know about?” Mili said, looking at her mother whose eyes had lost their earlier sparkle.

Kiran avoided her gaze, “Nothing much. First go and get your chai. We need to talk.”


Note: Most of the words in Italics are from the Hindi language.

SU (Straight up)


What is worse?
Being ignored or being told that someone hates you.
I would vote for the former. Why?


‘cause being overlooked is a slight
A stain on my existence
I am trivial
Tinier than an ant crushed underfoot
And equally insignificant


I am invisible
Words I speak fall on deaf ears
No one would even care
 If I vanished into thin air 


That is why I prefer
The plain goddamn truth
Just give it to me straight
Don’t vacillate
Please! Get me out of my misery.


Moral: If you really hate somebody, ignore them!



Billy Joel said it very well

Being Human


I pass him on the street
A dying man
Twitching, swathed in his blood
A plaintive hand lifts in my direction
I ignore him and continue on my way
I’m being Human

Now I am that man on the street
Twitching, swathed in my blood
People pass me by
I raise a plaintive hand for help
They ignore me
They are not to blame
They are being Human