Literature

The forest opened its doors To lure in unwary travellers. Purple trees swayed in the wind Yellow apples grew in trunks Green snakes hanged from trees Black flowers formed carpet. Friendly snakes Welcomed travellers.…
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What shall it ought to be called? I hide your shades in my verses Or you are read in each word Or with you, the rhythm converses Or I reach you frequently, for what my heart urges Do I endeavour to evict your absence?…
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I sipped a brew of flavours- adrak, elaichi, cheeni, kulhad the essence of leaves churning comfort slowly, no nosing around no questioning skilfully yet so kind, rummaging through the mind’s unkempt…
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Every swaying leaf, assured me of your love, I have known, but kept evading to save, An erupted heart, bleeding with aches, Like the clouds sailing, even in the rains, Refusing to melt and rain down to the earth. …
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B-Breezy bewitching moon-lilt, swoon over her forehead I-Indigenous pride, scrubbed through umpteen culture erosions N-Nancy, Nandini, Nilofer, all adore her… D-Dainty designs, welding religions, righteousness, distant…
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I met a girl Wild and free She was rebellious But her heart was weak. She took life as it came Enjoying every bit of it Only to realize in the end That there was nothing authentic about it. Heartbroken she roamed…
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When God was packing babies, To be sent to earth, A baby said, "Give me parents, Who would await my arrival, Where I would be away, From war, strife and anxiety, Where I would have, An extended family, To care for me, Even if…
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Wonder how we love little things Little things that give big glee The 'ding dong' of notifications The little dot of status updates The unending scrolls Some small red hearts and Love-filled eyes The green light…
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Messed up head, Cracked up soul, This ain't me, It's the product of The Society. Who tells us What's right and what's wrong, Should you date someone Or wander alone, Until one morning everything changes, And they suggest to…
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Rani somehow managed to get into the train and secure a safe place to stand. Traveling in Mumbai locals is like being in a basket of sardines. No matter how well dressed you are, you end up looking like having had a tussle with someone.…
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