We get disguise behind our pleasant smile. We laugh by concealing our tears. We pretend to be vialent though our hearts have ruptured in pieces. We pose to be confident though we are dieing out of fear. We act to hate, but have fallen deeply in love. We try to be joyous on other’s achievement but inside we are burning with jealousy. We try to appreciate the thorns on rose plant, but secretly we disregard it. Yes, we have camouflaged ourselves in lucidity. We show that the life we live is more than perfect, just perfect. Without tears and grievances.

We can’t cry in the middle of road though we are going through the phase which is even hard to imagine in dreams, like if our worst of worst nightmare had come true. We can’t cry!! This is the truth. We cover our salty tears, red eyes, reckless soul with a sublime smile. No one would give a thought from by just seeing us and get what we are going through. Isn’t it astonishing?? How we hide our, the worst phase in the best face. Whether our most beloved person had ditched us, our parents died or if our family doctor tells us that you have only few days left to live. Then too We have to display our macho heart to the world. We have to camouflage our pain, in bravery.

Unseen faces are not always sad one, but it’s evil too. Doctors hide their evil intentions in white coat, judges in black coat, while cops in khaki dress. These people are expected to be honest, generous and kind just because they are dressed in such special uniforms, to keep dignity of their attire they are expected to be honest!! Isn’t it cheesy?? The dress can’t change someone’s character. The right persona only deserve these dress-code. Then only the dignity of these attire will be maintained. Or like now, the wolves will be camouflaged in these attire forever, with sheepish smile but inside they will be ready standing at our door to stab in our backs.

Can we live without camouflage, not fully. But unnecessarily disguising ourselves we can avoid. Let’s not camouflage our feelings. Tell what our heart feels. Let’s not camouflage our tears and cries with smile. Let’s not camouflage ourselves from the world.


She cried million tears, she wished to die. She was broken and reckless, lost and unloved. Her every scream in calm night was a voice of her isolation. Her adrift ecstasy kept haunting her. But when the world asked her ” How are you??” She smiled feebly and said” I am okay.” Again She camouflaged her agony in that flawless feeble smile…..



He isn’t you :-(

He brings me flowers, but doesn’t know which one I admire.

He brings me gifts, but oblivious about what I like.

He kisses me, wetting my frons. But my heart feels it’s a conspire.

He brings me chocolates, calls me love. But in my mind it’s you who strikes.


How better you perceived me, giving my soul final touch of love.

How keenely you loved me, detaching me from the world.

You took me to the paradise, my infinite insecurities you hove.

You promised me to stay forever, wrapped in my arms curled.


I try to find you in him, in his eyes and in his kiss. But fail to espy you in anything.

I look for us, in dusk and dawn. In his jokes and hugs & in his intimacy.

I wish for you, and my prayers are for you, in my dreams you are only my King.

I miss you in silent of the moon, I miss you in first ray of the sun. I try to see you in toddler’s innocency.


I say white lies that I am over you. That I have let you to surpass from my heart.

Truth says, I miss you everyday. It’s unbearable to breath in solace in absence of you.

I try to fall in love, make my cheeks blush. I try to be a valiant to begin a new start.

I rise and then fall. But aspire for your hands to hold me. My soul tear apart in rue for loosing you.


He is like a shadow in light. Present but like absent.

His love is impotent to calm my havoc. He is out of range to my turmoil.

He is not you, you ain’t with me. I am shattered in parts but act like a lady who is pretty decent.

Our untamed love is left incomplete. I can’t be flesh and blood again with simon pure smile.


I yen we haven’t split so effortlessly. I wished I stopped you from leaving me alone.

I feel to live those promises,made in an open sky. I yearn for episode your breath on my chin.

Our Alchemy was a fairy tale. We never hurt in knowing, we were the best pair known.

Why didn’t you belay us from drifting apart? Why didn’t you tell me that this partition was a sin.




Old school love…

Dear lost love..

Hey, I am writing to you. Umm. Quite late but though only 4 years later just after I left you or you left me or we both left eachother or our destiny left us. But after these many years and these many days ie 1,460 days your thoughts and memories are fresh in my mind just like the orchids which you love in the garden of the school. You were my first love, an old school love.

I still remember the day when I first got the glimpse of you. Laughing like if suffering from hysteria or like a witch laughing in moonless dark night. Sitting in most dormant corner of the class, I would see you, a girl with Wheatish complexion diagonally sitting on the other end of the class. Your closed eyes and wide open mouth with horrendous laugh wasn’t goodly for the rest of the students but it was the best ever moment that I have captured with my eyes, where my heart was excitedly beating and I was smiling without reason, that was the time my adrenaline was poured in my blood stream. Making me to fall in love with you. Hey, let me remind you , you wasn’t looking a bit of attractive by laughing in ogre manner. Though it was the most exciting time of my life. I became your fan for not real reason.

I remember how I followed you to the library, a bad boy like me , in library it was again the topic of gossip for others but my only purpose was you. From the tiny space of books I would steal the glances of you. Your strands of hair lying unevenly on your face. And your lips always holding a winsome smile. I knew your code word for asking your best friend to accompany you to washroom. I loved your those big, deep black eyes which revealing the inner you.

You looked cute when you were nervous , at the time when you was asked to answer the toughest of question. Those wrinkles on your temples were astonishing. I always felt to ask you to share your bench with me or write a short poetry like you have written for your friends. Only ,I would know the pain of requesting boys to adjust with the places so that I would seat at the nearest bench to you. It was foolish to wait for you to keep your notebook for correction so that I would keep mine notebook on yours. You know what I always withdraw my name from the competition in which you had taken part because I never wanted to compete with my sweetheart. Teasing you, giving you nicknames was my way to love you.

Staring at you instead of board, listening to you inspite teacher dictating notes. All I miss it so much. I was happy without reason. I was more lively and it felt like my lost and slumbered part had waked up. I tried to fathom your personality. I got the most genuine reason to attend school. And let me acknowledge you that those three years have got my highest attendance.

But I still get confused that why did I fall only for you?? Why my heart didn’t pound as like it would break my ribs and come out bleeding after seeing all other beautiful faces. Why I amble up and down and waited for your bus to enter school premise ?? Why all thses unusual things happened for only you?? Why on the day of farewell I cried for you but not for the school?? Why I prayed to almighty getting you as my dance partner?? Just because I love you, and it is the enough answer for all the questions.

But today its being four years and still I am crazy about you. Still cheeks go warm Scarlet, ruby red when I hear your name and whenever I am asked about love I would think only about you. This old school love isn’t helping anymore.. So please suggest what should I do??

With love

What if she would had decided either way???

“No,….” “No I won’t, I won’t call him.” “But what about love?” Sonali was battling with her thoughts. Her mind was adjuring her to call her love, her better-half , her boyfriend. But she was not getting guts and permission from her intuition to call him. Isolated from the domain ,in her small pinky room with walls covered in posters and fly-posters of seven wonders of world, from the Taj Mahal to Colosseum in Rome. Fly-posters were of the interior designs of the air plane, which she have hung outlaw from her family rules and regulations. The wall forefront of her single bed with stinky bed sheet have the white chart paper, which was turned to brown with mini dust sitting making it to look unpleasant, corners of the white paper had red, maroon stains of blood, which was O+ belonged to Sonali. Hardly that bloody chart paper gained attention from Sonali now. She didn’t bother to memorize the hospitality rules for hosting in aircraft. Beside the chart paper had an oak shelves, designed by Sonali herself, which was filled with romance, thrill, fiction, fairytale, mystery, biographies and many more, Sonali loved her little world in her pinky room. But in few days, it feels like Sonali’s world was only that mini pink room. She never opened her pale grey wooden door for anyone, not for her Ammu not for her little angelic sister. She stayed on her bed laying on her stomach with shambolic hairs, dark moon under her eyes and uneven dirty black long nails and same yellow t-shirt with her printed favourite quote ” Quitters never win and Winners never quit.” And lowers with blood stains due to her menses. She was transformed from hot, beautiful, graceful,sexy and intelligent girl to ugly, dark, mad girl. Last week physiatrist have written in her file as “Clinically depressed.” And prescribed her anti- depressing tablets.

It was modest day, as of habit Ammu knocked the pale frey door or the truth is she banged Sonali’s pinky room door. She also called pappa to succour her in opening her elder daughter’s room. Who was sitting on her plastic woven purple chair with holding and clutching her knees deaf towards her door, as if she can’t hear those bangs but those bangs would exasperate anyone even the born deaf would hear, but she was unaffected with this. Busy in her all gloomy thoughts of her boyfriend’s ill behaviour. So at last Jaded parents sat on their chairs, after no response from their daughter. Once the ambitious girl, with eyes full of dreams , moves and works were brimful of passion and ardour. Was now lost in melancholy of lost, green and red love. Insecurity due to grapevine and fear of rejection of society. She have rehearsal her funeral in her pinky room, where she stayed only to herself. She planned her death and endeavour it many times. Along with it she have written a numerous letter to her boyfriend but not posting them in red letter box, maybe she had forgotten that without posting you can’t get reply. Once, this same girl panicked for getting just single pimple on her chin and today she is reckless about her glamour beauty. She shed silent tears at night and spend her day thinking why haven’t he replied to her letters which she hasn’t post.

She didn’t curse herself for loving a wrong person, but she punished herself by traumatizing her mind and body. She didn’t blame him ,who ditched her, betrayed her, who have slapped her in public who have made her porn video, who have cuffed her in his Orthodox norms . Who have declined her marriage proposal. His personality was a humble example of a paradox on hers. Sonali a splendid , rebel hearted wasn’t ready to give up on that ogre. A kind of barbarian which she has always found evil in greek tales. According to her peeps he was a ghoul in human civilization. Who have made the best girl to the worst. Her letters to her boyfriend, lay neetly in cotton pocket in her wardrobe, those letters have words describing their days of togetherness. Everyone have lost hope on Sonali, her Ammu, her angelic eyes sister , her bald father, her lean but food obsessed best friend.

It was a regular morning. Azure sky with tiny cotton billows floating. Sun in light yellow. Radient pinky room, stinky bedsheets and plates with untouched but rancid food, vermilion, ruby red stained chart paper was on its place moving and wobbling with little breeze of mud February. But, Sonali Gibbeted herself on celing fan which was printed with orchids. She hung herself and finished the tantrum which her mind gave her. She was done with waiting for him. She was tired and lost all her hopes , she found easy to end life than starting a new start. With her their was an end of an ambitious future air hostess, along with her, the dreams of her Ammu of her being the most beautiful bride died . Angelic sister’s role model and her best companion died. Now her bald father’s pride was just corpse. Her lean best friend lost her favourite person in the world. No more the cotton pocket would be filled with beautiful letters, no one will visit those seven wonders of the world.

Hanging on her orchid fan, with wide open eyes and blue feet and hands ,Sonali’s pale, parched lips had smile maybe she was right, this life hadn’t given her pleasure to live but it was much of the pain she suffered.

What if she would had decided the either way?? What if she would shown the world that she can survive along with those permanent scars in life… What if she would decide to live for her dreams, for her Ammu, for her angelic sister, for her bald father or lean but food obsessed friend. What if she have tried to be as winner than quitter.

We are Indians not Chini……

I am tired of this racial gulf between us.

We are Indians but oftentimes mistaken as Chinese.

I am victim of racism, in this era it’s disgust.

You all have bought me to crisis.


I am blonde, with almond eyes.

Straight hairs and short stature.

But sexually we are harassed on high.

I am not open for you to use me, I never makes such gestures.


You have killed my brothers and sisters,

By sticks and rods till they breath last.

But though our news doesn’t become block blusters,

I am left out from federation, but all these news don’t get cast..


I agree we have different names,

Different cultures and rituals.

But we are Indians and patriotism in our hearts flames

We respect martyrs as well as tricolour.


I am bullied and tortured. In offices ,at schools and colleges.

You get enraged by seeing me, in malls , theatres and parks.

You all think I might be a prostitute who doesn’t hold grudges.

But, I am a human being, Who is pushed forcibly in dark.


Playing in laps of green valleys I have grown.

I have quirk of first sun rise with orangey shades in sky.

I have lost in shivaliks and felt piercing of thorns.

For that splendor nature, million times I can die.


I am also an Indian,living in development deprived states.

My Mongolian feature doesn’t mean I should be discriminated.

I will belong to this ethnic land,as it is in my trait.

All these I wanted to say, treat me with love not hatred…




Meeting you was an accident. Being friend with me was your choice. We were chalk and cheese but we were eminent chums who can’t sit devoice.


You were girl with long curly hairs, I was with short one. Both were pretty in their own way. Checking each and every boy, and asking each other “what say?”


We were partners in crime, backers in each other’s void. We laughed enormously and frequently had cried.


I know your darkest secrets keeping them lock inside me. You know who I am, more than anyone would ever perceive me.


But, suddenly time changed and we grew apart. You went your own way, leaving me a far. This was the first time our appartitions were at bizarre.


I tried to stop you, remembering all old times. “Friends never ditch”, you told me once upon a time. But, something we have always done out of the box, this what you was doing this time.


You ignored me today as the way we used to ignore the people who were bane. My soul crashed from knowing that the best friend have become stranger again……



Walking but learning…..

I set on a journey, without any destination. Just to observe and sink in stranger’s lives,without their acknowledgement. I walked straight on my path, which led somewhere and I haven’t any idea where did it end. I walked slowly under innumerable constellations, with moon walking steadily ahead of me.

The place wasn’t meant for meditation, it was full of concoction of different sounds, of different worldly things. Path was bustling with bikes and cars. The dark night seemed as brighter than day due to fluorescents ligted in huge buildings. Smoke of vehicles had formed clouds in clear sky, but I was walking in such unrealistic world. But it was fun to see different characters around me.

The aunties in sarres with large butts and tummies expanded till eternity bargaining to the vegetables seller. It seemed that one single penny can make big differences in life. An old slender uncle with small cap on his head walking swiftly, it felt like something he had left to take with him and so he is partially running to get home. A small toddler crying, yelling to his loudest voice possible. His stubbornness for getting favorite toy, is remarkable and shows we shouldn’t be settling for less. A young man with thick mustache dressed in formals and bag on shoulder, his face was tired but his eyes showed the happiness, which he gained from doing hardwork. He was in hurry to reach home and embrace his daughter tightly. One of the couple arguing for which of the product was best, it showed that both have their point of view and it was clear that both had equal rights among them. Few eve teasers were on, with their gangs, staring at each and every girl passing by. I felt pity for them as there was actually something wrong with them. Few young people talking softly on phone, with blushing cheeks and their smile stretched to its extinct. This Showed that the love and romance can be done even on 7 to 6 cm handset. I was moving in my own thoughts of different people around me, it was fun and totally a learning session. An old woman with hump on her back was walking with the help of stick. She wasn’t in distress about her abnormality she walked with confidence and guts in crowded street. Few groups of teens, laughing and making gesture of high five, walking and enjoying in their peers company. Eating ice cream and bullying their one of the friend. It was so beautiful to watch a relation of friendship. Which shows fights, love, care and compassion. One of the girl in heavy makeup and overly dressed, walked by doing cat walks. Just to gain attention. While one of the middle aged man was seeking for the address, by asking each and everyone on the street.

But in all these somethings we fail to notice, like a beggar begging on the signals. A poor lady asking for money with a little child in her arms. We even don’t notice the cobblers sitting side of the roads. I think they do most appreciable job. They save us from embarrassment of sudden breaking of sandal on the way, it’s obvious we will not rush in shops for getting new pairs immediately. Or small stalls of ice cream, bhelpuris or gol gappes. They not only sell their vends but also happiness.

It was a great experience to observe different personalities and walk on the road. Many were there with me, some where pedestrian, some bicyclist, some in their bullets while some in cars and rickshaws. Everyone was walking with different perspectives, different goals. Some where walking towards home from tiring day at work. Few women walked in hurry to meet her child. Few where going to work, in night shift, some running to hospitals, while some going to fancy restaurants to have dinners. Everyone was beaming more or less. They were wearing the mask of lucidity. Like if the problem is kind of nothing in there life, they lived something irrational perfect life. But no one knows what they are going through, we never know the person who is walking, having little smile may have cried hard at his home, or had lost his child few days ago…..

Stay kind, but alert!!!

Please comment if you like it!!!

But I love my Nation…..

I flew high in the vast sky,

In the search for my fills.

Under blue sheet of the sky,

It was a immense thrill.


I landed on the home,

Who worshiped moon.

Wearing round cap on dome.

Fed me grains, as a boon.


I set off again to fly high,

With the swollen chest.

For my nation, I sighed,

Unity in diversity, was blessed.


I came across a hut,

Entrance had fragrance stick.

With ringing bells, and guts.

They gave me water to drink.


My journey in infinity,

Was getting divine.

By the love from all community.

I was sure this nation was mine.


It wore the Himalayan crown,

Arabian washing it’s feet.

Eastern had greenery grown,

With west in white desert sheet.


Numbers of languages spoken,

With lots of it’s dialects.

Distinct culture are under taken,

People engrossed in lots of facts.


But there are black holes,

Sustaining in my mother land.

Of bribery, blood shed and riot,

termites eating strand by strand.


But I am free and delighted,

In tri-color of my nation.

Sun’s beam heavenly, is vibrant,

Moon is cold in wind aggression.

But I am in love with my nation.


P. S:-**** these represent end of paragraph!!

Happy 70 years of freedom to every proud Indian. I am happy to share this with you all. Being an Indian who is proud of it’s diversity and distinct identity in the world. While also in concerned with the issues affecting my mother land…….

Don’t leave my dreams.. 

I was going, leaving you behind, carrying your memories with me. It wasn’t destined to happen, it was you who wanted this.

The moments with you will be permanently stored in my heart. With pinch of regret that I can’t make them more with you now.

The very first sight of you is still crisp in my thoughts. Your big round dangles dancing as you walked in hurtle.

The day we first talked , my thoughts wrapped you, gluing in the name of love. I am wretched that I can’t hear you voice again.

I still recall your squinted eyes and shrunken nose, that you made when I pretended to not to understand your joke. Still I smile and wish you would do more and further more.

I never can forget, you are allergic to green chillies. I changed my preference of spicy to sweet. For my sweetheart that she doesn’t get fits of coughing.

How can I forsake your craze for shopping and reading. I always dreamed of doing the same with you, in cozy places.

We kissed, and took regard for each other but I was in love forever with you, while you in love for favors. You were hurricane with high velocity, who shook my spirit from within.

I can’t blame you for this sweetie, you will be my weakness in my life. Just do one last favor don’t leave my dreams ever.


Our India…… 

For 15th of August is just two days are left and everyone in India are getting ready to get patriotic. It’s a long back tradition going on in India and as being typical Indian, I thought to show my patriotism too. Everyone had praised and criticized India in different ways. Everyone have talked about our national leaders and there freedom struggles. There different ways of nonviolence revolution!!! How they desired to imbibe liberty, equality and fraternity in our India. They worked day and night for forming our constitution, for giving the government a one single rule book to run the country. Our constitution have adopted all the best things from all over the world. Our constitution explains each and every act in detail, so it is considered as largest constitution in the world. It is considered as nobility in constitution. 

But, then too what our country is today. After 70 years of Independence too do we proper democracy in our country? Are we actually proud for our country?  Or we simply blurt out what we have heard from generations to generations. It’s not like we don’t have proper rules and regulations, but all those are only limited and listed in constitution. It’s not seen following in our nation. Above all the rules there is a rule of “CHALTA HAI.”  It is prohibited to smoke in public, but though we might be coughing badly but we can’t say them with authority to not to smoke. These small rules are unfollwed without any fear of punishment. 

People who secure our laws are corrupt in very most times. In India instead of feeling safe we Indians get scared when we see cops. Our Indian cops are the best example of how to break rules without fear, if you get stuck in some unusual situations then our fuzzs have unwritten rules for  procrastinating the case or bribe us for getting in unearthly situation by mistake instead of helping us.  I have even seen the cops asking third party for what to do? Whether to fine or F.I.R. This what our India is.

My India, our India, his India, her India. Secularism  was added in preamble of our constitution for showing religious unity, but today whenever whichever newscasts you open and we will find the people hurting each other’s religious sentiments. This what the secularism means?? Or we simply joke about it. All the disputes of culture, linguistic basis makes our India’s condition worse. For all these one who is responsible is we. I, you and us. 

We even fight for tolerance and intolerance in us. I have distinct view on this and according to me we are very tolerant, like we never stop people from breaking rules instead we suffer all the mishap silently. Like it’s completely forbid for screaming in hospitals. For spitting in public places but we tolerate all this right?? And secondly we are completely intolerant too. We can’t hear a single thing against our religion. We simply are ready for killing anyone if someone criticizes something going wrong in our traditions. It’s like on the point of culture and religion basis we have kept our self on ignition, only one little acceleration and we are ready to move for even burning someone alive. But the things which really matters, we are blind towards it. I think not blind but simply we are just ignorant about it. 

This what our India is, where rules are mirage. Which we feel it is there but in reality ut doesn’t exist. If we are so prone to western culture, like celebrating 31st have become a compulsory tradition like burning diyas in diwali. So why not we accept the things which really are good for us. Like respecting each and every one’s thoughts. Doing something for country….