Memory fades, memory adjusts, memory conforms to what we think we remember.
- Joan Didion
suddenly there’s too much noise. sometimes there’s that cuckoo song in the morning, other time there’s that kid practicing on his keyboard. evening there’s that cricket match which family loves to watch and then there are those numbers which keep flashing on the screen. I try to hide like that moon which fades behind the clouds sometime, I try to bury my thoughts by reading that book which I borrowed from library. But I fail, I see those coins in the jar waiting to be…
We are all engaged in the task of peeling off the false selves, the programmed selves, the selves created by our families, our culture, our religions.
- Anais Nin
The story of my life is untitled. I have lost too many pages. The ink on the pages has started fading. Somedays I write, other time I prefer to be silent. Some time I rhyme the poems other time I leave them incomplete. There’s nothing written still too much of me. And when you find the book dear reader don’t search me because as a writer my job is to write…
The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art is a way to make your soul grow.
- Kurt Vonnegut
one part of me want to believe everything is fine
but something in me shatters every time I see the numbers.
one part of me wants to be lost in the colours of the sky
but when I see that shadow I want to ink my tears. …
“Embrace your solitude and love it. Endure the pain it causes, and try to sing out with it. For those near to you are distant…”
― Rainer Maria Rilke
Dear Readers, I long to get a letter from someone who knows that I am a poet. I long to be understood as a poet. I know in this life that moment won’t come so this is just another thank you note for you all who read me each day, who wait for my posts here and elsewhere, who know me more than my loved ones. Thanks for letting me know…
We are at work on the past to make the future more bearable.
you know you are changing the world
when you start writing your own rule.
i grew up listening to tales where
women are supposed to be a giver.
i knew if i don’t change my life
i too would be a woman who
is supposed to listen.
ispoke for my happiness,
i edited my life, to live with
set of rules written by others
how can you stay alive?
Note — I grew up listening stories about Radha, Sita and other goddess of Indian Mythology…
with too many things in my head i write to sort it all till the sky is empty and there’s no poetry