My ode to Poetry πŸ’—

Poetry isn’t just a consortium of words you string together with syllables that rhyme,
Poetry isn’t only about connecting thoughts inexplicably sublime,

Poetry is that volcano of emotions sacredly tamed in a soft spot of your heart,
Poetry is in the anxiety, in the pain, in the agony that’s tearing you apart,

It is in every bit of the chaos around, it is in your resilience, in your mindless petulance,
It is in your deafening silence, in your restless impatience,

It is in your euphoria, in your ecstasy, in the madness you breathe,
It is in every tiny expression you surreptitiously read,

It is in feelings secretly cherished but left unkempt,
It is in instincts bizarrely potent,

Poetry isn’t a novel you’d write with chapters in sequence and order,
Poetry isn’t in fancy vocabulary or impeccable grammar,

Poetry is, in every dimension, a profound reflection of your soul,
Pure, undistorted and whole.


Happy World Poetry Day!


How my brain works :)

Reading between the lines ain’t easy, I tell you,
There’s plenty of What, Why, How, Says Who?,
There’s fanatic obsession,
There’s a desperate need for validation,

The overthinking brain suddenly transforms into a turnstile,
Jumping the gun all the while,
Churning possibilities impossible to construe,
Posing questions that have no answer to –

Until every iota expands into a mindboggling issue,
Until everything said and done seems impossible to undo,

Until something more pressing begins to worry the head,
Beseeching the brain to focus on it instead.

Why I write :)

Coercing. A restraint I shamelessly fail to imbibe
On the myriad of emotions that seamlessly flow by,
Creating a vacuum within,
Taking me to places I’ve never been,
Sweet with happiness and archaically pensive,
Delicately intense, yet desperatively figurative,
Sometimes soft with invisible colours, possibly,
Transforming into the wind beneath my wings, secretly exhausting my melancholy –

I could fill hours describing them, but they wouldn’t be what you’d call poetry,
Raw and scorching, they’re made of figments you’d get bored of or might want to disagree,
But I couldn’t not write about them, I wouldn’t relinquish an experience so inanely tranquilizing,
Because words are all I have, albeit few and impulsively withering.


Will you be my muse?


So my next book – a short compilation of my poems is now live on the Juggernaut website. Hurray!

The poems I have put in there, are really a reflection of my soul (like they always are ;)) and it would mean the world to me if you could check the book out – read, rate and review and tell me what you think.

So, here’s the link to the book -> Be My Muse?

Please do check it out when you get the time. I can’t wait to hear what you think.



On Women’s Day…

Would it be too much to ask for a space,
A sublime, happy place,
Where her heart would know no fear,
Where she gets to make her choices – about her attire, life or career,
Where she doesn’t have to think twice to step out and shine,
Where she isn’t bound by curfews to be back home before nine,
Where she isn’t defined by the colour of her skin, or who she’s married to,
Where she isn’t just an inadvertent object of desire or rue,
Where she is treated an equal, where she gets her rightful due?

Because this world we live in, it belongs to her too.

A Happy Women’s Day to you!

This one is for you!❀

I have been wanting to share this with you for the longest time now, but I somehow kept hesitating and procrastinating because I wasn’t sure how good I’m at this. I still ain’t sure.


Here goes.

I have been creating printable calendar templates, and here’s one for each month of this year. I wanted to keep each of them fresh and new and full of happy vibes, and that is exactly how ‘I’ think they look.

I’ll link them to each month below, do check them out and download them and get them printed. Best part? They’re free πŸ˜€

  1. January
  2. February
  3. March
  4. April
  5. May
  6. June
  7. July
  8. August
  9. September
  10. October
  11. November
  12. December



P.S. Do lemme know what you think. It means a lot to me πŸ™‚

P.P.S. Any other printables you’d want to have?

My tryst with books β€

All through the day yesterday, on account of #WorldBookDay in the UK, I got to read some insanely amazing stories about how people first discovered the joy of reading, about the first ever book they read, etcetera, and I got all nostalgic.
So here’s presenting a picture of 2 books – 2 of my eternal favourites – Matilda by Roald Dahl and House at the Corner by Enid Blyton. They’re two of the first few books I read as a kid, and, and I’m glad I read these 2 because I can’t describe in words the kind of impact they’ve had in my life.
I remember trading my crackers for a bunch of books when I was in class 3 and there’s been no turning back ever since. Be it hiding a book between the pages of a text book because I wanted to find out the ending, or sneaking out of weddings to finish a gripping chapter, or
holding onto the edge of the bed before eventually falling down because of a twist in the plot I hadn’t seen coming – I’ve found solace in them in almost every moment of my 24 years of existence thus far.
But books always do that to you, don’t they?
They help you find your escape into oblivion in the most blithesome possible way one can think of –
Breathing in the scent of their pages as you let the story seep deep into your veins, metamorphosing into each of the umpteen characters you come across, teleporting yourself into a world you read about – Oh! There’s definitely no experience as magical as reading a book.

Oh, and you might ask,

“After all this time?”



On that note, what’s your favourite book?

P.S. I started reading Harry Potter much later, but, man, I can’t imagine my existence without it now.

P.P.S. I’m pathetic at taking pictures, but this one’s kinda special πŸ™‚