Color Blind

She woke up

to a full moon,

and saw colors



She slept again.



(I drew this piece in dry pastels when I was visualizing how we work with multiple emotions that color our lives- somehow the month of March being the festive colorful season of Holi in India, I just couldn’t resist the temptation of posting this!)



Traveling Light

He takes what he gets,

and carries nothing.


A traveler without a suitcase,

wearing just a smile and a song.


He tells a compelling tale,

and draws his audience.

Moving on even as they are moved.


For in his world,

there are no waiting rooms,

and no walls.


He spins a tender yarn

not to deceive,

just to please

at that moment.

Cleared out as a habit.


He has his mates.

They are all special.

He does not differentiate.

Yet he wakes up alone.


There is a tiny space.

It hides

in the shadows of crowds,

of honeyed words,

of floating clouds.


Just one small little fragment

that opens to the skies.

This is his temple

and he,

a priest,

wandering in the land he created.


I was with him once.

I saw his story

as he flipped through mine.


Lover, I,

intoxicated, bewildered, thrilled, distracted.


I made myself absent

like a disappearing rainbow

I gave him a gift.

A walk that is blind.


My ink’s not dry yet.

The tide’s turned.


Traveler he,

did he give himself a chance?


Goodness Me

There is hell in heaven too,

though the divine ones speak otherwise.

Ask me, and I’ll tell you.

Of the seething, sinking decadence above.

Nothing higher than the highest.

The boring morbidity of perfection.


So they seek the mortals below.

Not perfect, though happier still.

And fling a sorrow or two.

Smiling with a perverse enjoyment.

Ah! So heavenly……


(I thought of this piece from the perspective that joy can exist irrespective of any human flaw and maybe in our striving for the ideal state, we forgot that perhaps that’s how the Gods’ really wanted it for us!)

Night Magic

One night fades into another.

Embers of past hopes linger quietly.

The moon whistles a sad song,

bathing her in a blurring melody.

The leaves whisper and fall,

to pick pieces of her scattered dream.

A solitary bird halts its journey.

Its company, a peace offering.

The magic is everywhere.

Coloring her with the hues of darkness.

Conditions of Love

His absence knew nothing

-the seasons, the reasons, the treason’s.

He thought himself a trace

of woven memories orbiting out,

locked in their paths.


Safe, she knew not

-the trauma, the drama.

He kept her house of cards



from the burning winds

of his love.


The Sound of Heartbreak

Parties and partings.

Shrill laughter.

Music in the corner.

Noises in my head.

Slapping you,

hitting myself.

Sipping oceans

to swallow clouds.

Wandering around my house

to still random thoughts.

Hunting under carpets

for dusty dreams.

The coffin

at the end of a rainbow.

A composed face

with a gulp.

Banging at your door.

Did you hear the knock?