My umbrella

It rains not every single day,

I forget you’re even there,

Safely resting 

In a forgotten corner

Of my little bag;

You’re my umbrella,

Shielding me

From the showers of pain

That life drizzles upon me;

You’re my umbrella,

Shielding me from the sun,

Lest my skin get tan;

You’re my umbrella,

Under which I can hide my tears

Or peel away the everyday facade

Of happiness;

You’re my umbrella,

Although I don’t require one everyday,

I know you’re there, always.

You’re my umbrella, father,

You’re the haven that I always look for.

An unsatisfactory weekend

As the sun goes down,


Darkening the hue

Of the lively canvas

That we wonder at everyday,

As birds reach their nests,

Check on their eggs,

And get into a peaceful slumber,

As the brightness of the sun

Dims down,

Paving way for the stars 

To shine their innocent light

Onto earth,

And the dark takes over,

Where the moon shines happily,

I stand in the shadows,

And pray for the sun

Not to be gone;

I pray and pray and pray,

But alas,

The sun is long gone –

The prayers were never heard;

And the next morning,

The sun shall rise

On the first day of the next week,

Even if there’s any unfinished business

Or if the weekend

Hasn’t been satisfactory –

The sun never does care.


Loneliest of all,

Having no one to listen

To the grief, the sorrow,

Having no one who gives a damn,

Having a friend

Or a person

In life,

Who wants to know

The reason

Behind this loneliness,

This moment of weakness,

This moment 

Where any stranger

Can enter

And disrupt the routine

Of an already uneventful life,

Is the most frightening of all.

Being vulnerable to love,

Talks of consolation,

Melting for a tiny word,

Hanging onto it for support,

Believing it would last forever

Is what puts things

Upside down.


Like the high clouds

I want to soar

So I could reach you,

So I could touch you,

So that I could see

Where you reside

In the sky

Like a King,

Where I can be the queen,

Where I get 

To love you forever,

To laugh like there’s no tomorrow,

Lean on your broad shoulders,

Let the tears of pain flow,

Let the happiness sink in

Until it reaches

The mighty ocean below

Into which I shall jump,

To get precious pearls

To adorn you with;

And when I look up,

I will yearn for you

And only you,

And will wait

In this life and the next

For you

To come down to me,

And set me free with you,

Into the sky

Where we can fly

Without a care.

And the moon would never come down.

That guilt

​All day

I think of you,

Deep in my thoughts

In my every action,

As I find guilt

Crawling forward

And stopping that smile


Pushing away

All things happy,

As I know

I was never good enough;

I know,

I’ve been fighting

For a lost cause;

I think of you

Who’s in pain,

Who needs me

And yet never admits;

I want to do all that I can,

Breaking this wall

Of ego

As the daughterly love,

As creepy as it can be

Fills in 

The air around you,

Disentangling you

From the web of loneliness

That you’re trapped in;

Don’t be afraid

To hold my hand,

And walk in the dark.

Know that I could do anything

Just anything

To make your everyday life


The lonely tree

Like the lonely tree

Who tried to survive

The scorching sun

Of the south,

I see you

As you struggle, as your leaves fall,

One by one

And yet, you never lean 

Onto someone.

Like the pitiful, undernourished tree

You need love,


You have to open up,

Take in the air around you,

And cherish every little breath

So you don’t perish

In this desert

Where you will never be found again,

Where you will be eaten whole.

Do not trudge away,

Lean on me, I shall support you,

Do not walk away

To an unknown place

Because no one else cares much

But me.

The daughter who never cared

​I wake up from a cozy bed,

Miles away, you wake up from the ground;

I idle around for a while,

Overcoming your tiredness, you stand;

I get dressed and walk to gym

You start with your daily chores;

I get ready to office,

Without even the strength to stand, you cook;

I go sit in a fully air conditioned place,

You’re done in the afternoon.

I eat lunch,

You eat your breakfast-cum-lunch;

I go back to my cozy cubicle,

You still have work to do.

And with your injured leg,

You do all of this,

As I enjoy my life

As if you’re​ not at all suffering,

As if this feeling of guilt

Never exists,

As if I never feel like coming back home

To help you,

To do all the work,

To let you relax,

To make your daily life…

A bit more easier.

I never am blessed

With the gift

Of serving you,

Taking care of you,

And I stand in utter shame

As I am unable

To make your daily life…

A bit more easier.

Will I ever

Get to rest in peace?

This is in the POV of Ms.K, the neighbour I’d always observe and write about. She and her father had a fight yesterday, and she was shouting so loud that I could hear what it was about. She lives alone in a different place, and had come to visit her parents yesterday. Their father is very simple, and yet egoistic. So is she. Theirs is one ego-filled family, for sure.

Best friends

​Best friends, they call themselves –

All of the same feather;

Delving deep

Into the bottom

Of the insides

Where happiness lingers,

Care blossoms,

And pain vanishes,

Planting lies

Into the soil

Of trust.

Life is full of smiles,

Love, care, hope.

Life is a celebration,

With the like-mindedness

 Of people around.

Until one point, when

The truth is finally let out

In the open

To let know

That the most sacred place

Within the heart

Has been tainted

With betrayal,

The untold truth,

The way things turned out

That has damaged

The capacity

To trust any person

Ever again.


​And as the day

Comes to an end,

As millions of eyes

Fall asleep,

As the skies 

Turn black

As the time

Comes to a halt,

As the candles

Are lit,

And the world

Prepares itself

For another night

Of darkness,

Here I am

Falling deep

Into an abyss,

Of silent torment

As this migraine

Disrupts my daily routine.


An attire that could classify as rags,

Stained, torn, and faded,

His gut clenched,

Nervous, weak hands,

Begging every passenger

For any left-over food,

Or money,

With no power to move forward,

He still went on,


With a uniform pace,


To survive the night,

To escape the clutches

Of this insatiable hunger,

To accumulate a few calories

For another round

Of the same routine.