But we’re all doomed in the end aren’t we?

Marching slowly towards death with each breath

Pretending we have so much time

Choosing to forget we’re all doomed in the end

Our fate is like that of a shooting star

Destined to dust and kiss the ground

We know the concept of eternity is a lie

And forever is merely a time span much lesser than our lifetime

One day, our dreams, money and love- everything would disappear

Abandoning the bodies, leaving them to dissolve into the earth

And our souls would float above wandering freely

Probably on their journey to find a new body

Funny, we know the truth but how conveniently we choose to forget

Every day running after things which would mean nothing when we reach the end

Yes we’re doomed, but isn’t it beautiful?

Us being fragile isn’t a weakness but a strength

Cz what’s the fun if we were not mortal?

Eternity sounds great only on pages of the rusted books on my shelf

If given a chance to be immortal, I’d turn it down in a heartbeat

Knowing death is inevitable gives a meaning to life actually

So we are not doomed after all, are we?

Mortality is a gift not a curse

A chance to cherish everything before the sun sets on life’s horizon

Dilemma of a Dusky Girl

My friend loves black shirts and shoes and pretty much everything in black

Except the girl next door who he would have dated only if she was fair

My little sister refuses to drink chai as her mother once told it will make her dark

And in order to avoid tan, my girl friends cover their skin with dupattas or scarfs

But tell me one thing, as Indians aren’t we supposed to be brown/dark?

I have seen aunties telling young girls to apply creams on their face

“Try it, all the darkness will fade away and you will become fair and lovely” they say

Well aunty, its the colour of our skin, not a night sky

Also, your cream does not contain sunshine for the darkness to fade

And why should it fade? Brown is beautiful and so is black

It’s our skin for god’s sake! It carries stories of our ancestors

It has the essence of our history, our country and our culture

It covers our bones, our blood, our soul and our heart

Giving us an identity and making us what we are!

So next time you come across any aunty, friend or neighbor criticising the colour of your skin

Give them your best smile and tell them how sorry you are

For there is no “beauty cream” that exists

To fix the darkness clouding their judgement and thoughts

And mention how proud and happy you are in your own skin

Which is identical to the colour of Krishna, goddess Kali and Lord Shiva

The gods and goddesses they have worshipped since the beginning of time

I don’t belong โœจ

I don’t think I belong to this time, this generation

For I keep wandering, searching for souls and not faces

I believe in vibes, the frequencies, the energies

Not what kind of clothes you wear or how much you spend

I don’t care how expensive your shoes are

What matters is your kindness for others as you admit

That you have no idea what they’ve been through

And that you can’t fucking walk in their shoes

Doesn’t matter the size of your house but the size of your heart

And maybe it’s a good thing or maybe it is not

Cz its not practical right? I see people crushing hearts like it’s a paper cup

They walk past like you’ve been wearing an invisibility cloak

They ignore you like you’re some piece of trash

With no value, with no emotions, with no heart and bones

And although self love should be a priority no doubt,

But isn’t treating others right should also be on our minds?

Maybe that’s why I don’t belong, you know?

Cz they think I’m too fragile, too sensitive and even stupid?

And I won’t deny, maybe I am. I am all of those things but so much more

Yes I’m much more than a cute face and a sweet smile

I’d be honoured to be your crying shoulder and not just a party friend

And I’d appreciate long walks, holding hands listening to the old songs

And I’d love a hand written letter or a note instead of a ‘hi’

I know I’m not the only one. There’s got to be many more right?

Who’ve got old souls trapped in those bodies trying to survive

Who see people around, running after materialistic wants

In their expensive cars, carrying their shallow hearts

And seeing those people they realise that they truly don’t belong

Walking on the Edge…

With her heels on, every night she walks on the edge

Clutching her heart, she breathes in the cold air

And closes her eyes with flashbacks running through her mind

Her lips twirl up as she remembers all those giggles and the good times

She looks up at the sky covered with brilliant stars

They beam down at her adoring the twinkle in her eyes

She then looks down at her feet, slowly turning her neck to the other side

Where the ocean stretches and meets the skyline

Its waves crashing on rocks and splashing the water up

Washing off her feet, her jeans and all the hurt

She sighs looking at the moonlight shimmering on those waves

It’s beauty alluring her pleading her to take a step forward

She lifts her leg up trying to balance herself on the other

Her heel shaking nervously on the edge, wondering it’s fate

Her heart pounding like a drum in her hollow chest

She smiles realising this is what it feels like to be on the edge

To see life on one side and death on the other

To see the waves rising up but crashing in the end

To feel the cold air travelling from her feet, her spine to her very soul

To have a chance to have it all or lose it with just a small step

She smiles knowing she has all the control now of her own life

She is indeed the master of the sea and the captain of her ship

Her face glows at that and smiling, she jumps down but on the other side

Her heels sigh with a thud as they feel the ground

She gets up adjusting her hair, she looks back one last time

She feels the waves desperately calling her out

‘Come back o dear! Let me show you what death tastes like’

‘Not yet’ says she firmly and walks back in the dark

Once again leaving the ocean to sing it’s song on another lonely night

Poems that I read…๐Ÿ“–

I often read poems about life, loss and hope,

And the ones about wars, women and home.

Sentiments woven on thin paper with each word beautifully brewed,

I can’t help but wonder what those poets must’ve gone through

And how much did their hearts bleed to drop the red in form of blue.

I read, mostly admiring the art-

I say mostly because there is always a tinge of envy

For the amount of pain they felt,

For the ones they loved and the ones they left.

But most importantly for the stories they shared-

Through words that circled from valleys to mountains

And those that loved the moonlight and drank from fountains.

Sweet words that came down pouring from heaven,

And even those that fearlessly kissed the demon.

Words that broke me and showed me the path,

And those that ignited fire and healed my heart.

Don’t let me fool you, for I’ve felt pain too,

So much so that I had made it my home

But with time the wounds dried and the heart healed

So I end up reading poems about life, loss and hope,

Reminiscing the days when I had those words dancing, in my old home. โค


“She has known pain. Like most of you. Like some of you probably.
And one thing she learnt about it is never try to escape it.
Embrace it all. Let it consume you.
Let it hurt you. Let it drown you.
Only then you’ll try to breathe
Only then you’ll want to heal
Only then you’ll fight to live”

Paradoxes of Life โœจ

First of all, Happy Independence Day to all!โค๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡ณ This ones my another attempt at poetry writing. I am not sure if it’s the wisest ones I wrote or if it fails to make any sense at all. Let me know (be kind) ๐Ÿ˜…

Oh, and happy reading ๐Ÿ™‚

Every beginning has an end
And every end has a new beginning
It’s known that darkness can lead us to light
And one truth defeats thousands of lies

Every life marches towards death
Yet death can create new life
Love wins over hate and ice can kill fire
Once you face it- only then can you overcome fear

World worships God because it has seen demons
How many people have been slaughtered to save our men and women?
Kingdoms were conquered for the sake of power and prosperity
But how can one be called powerful when he has lost humanity?

Great men have fought battles in the hope of bringing peace
Every beginning has to end, but with it a new chapter begins
So why shed tears when happiness awaits in the corner of every sorrow?
You seem to have too much sunshine in your yard, can I maybe borrow?

Remember I’ll see the Sun one day and you might be standing in the dark
Because you know right- today would be tomorrow’s past?”

Random Thoughts #2

Okay, so here are a few more random thoughts/poems! Hope you like it ๐Ÿ™‚

1. Borrowed times โœจ

“Here’s the thing- we live on borrowed time. Each breath gives us life,In return bringing us closer to death.

Funny thing is, we do not know how far or how close we are to the finish line,
as there are no rules or patterns.
Every track is different, every race is different.

We run parallelly on different time-tracks and on different rules
So who wins in the end?
Who loses after all?
What’s the fight for?
Guess we’ll never know”

2. It doesn’t matter ๐Ÿ˜Š

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you’re shy, if you’re bold, if you’re rich or poor, if you’re fair, if you’re dark, if you’re thin, if you’re fat, if you’re hot, if you’re not. It Doesn’t Matter. You tend to love someone and most of the times, that love is not reciprocated.

So don’t ever believe that one of the above characteristics are the reason that they don’t love you back. They don’t love you because they don’t. That’s it. It’s that simple.

Do not ever think low of yourself because someone else does not see the beauty that you are.”

Let me know your thoughts on mine ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜ Also suggestions are appreciated!! And stay safe everyone. ๐Ÿฅฐ


You! You keep me going when everything seems pointless. You are the bridge between now and future, the path that leads to light, the compass that points to one’s very purpose of being.

You are the reason one can dare to breathe, sleep or dream in this chaos. Ever felt like you are falling into an endless pit? You scream and scream but no one hears you? And out of nowhere you find yourself looking at the rope. You grab it and hold it tight with all the energy you can muster. You, are that rope.

You are the gray area that lies between truth and lie, the string that separates life from death. You are a diya that keeps burning when it gets dark. You are the fresh air that fills up my lungs when I feel suffocated.

You are that soothing voice singing lullaby, putting me to sleep in the darkest of nights. You are the first ray of sun that has the potential to brighten up a gloomy day. You are the strength my heart needs to keep beating. You exist in my every prayer. You my dear, are all anyone is ever gonna need to keep going. ๐ŸŒŸ

P.S. So this is an exercise where you need to choose a topic and write about it without ever mentioning what it is that you are writing about (except in the title of course). It’s my first attempt. So any feedback is highly appreciated.๐Ÿ˜Š And, stay safe y’all.

My old companion.

We met about ten years ago. I was still a kid and so in love. In love with life, nature, art and love itself. I was so naive, I didn’t see you coming.

And here you are in all your glory. Or darkness should I say? You, made me believe I was not good enough. You told me I don’t belong. You punched me in the guts and made me cry. You whispered in my ears the tales of heartbreaks and failures. Tales of betrayal and loneliness.

Depression, it took me years to notice your presence. To point a finger at you and say you are not me. I am not you. You see, how cunningly you made your way into my mind, heart and my very soul? I failed to identify your intentions and accepted you with a warm hug. I stayed awake listening to all the thoughts and reasons you fed my brain.

You consumed all my energy and time making me weak, fragile. You thought you found a new home to create chaos. But you met me when I was a girl-sweet and nice. You were surrounded by your own ego that you failed to watch me grow. Yes, I’ve had my days. I stumbled and I fell, I’ve lost and I bled. But I never stopped fighting. One day I looked you in the eyes and told you who owns the house. I kicked you hard and told you I love myself.

I hear you knock at my door sometimes. I feel the desperation in your voice. The girl in me steps forward to open the door and give you a warm hug again. You see? Even with the damage you’ve caused, you were a companion to her. She shared all the insecurities and tears with you. She laid awake till 3 am listening to your crap. So today, I guard her. I hold her tight when you show up on our door. It breaks my heart to see my little self being so naive and pure.

Depression, my old companion I know you’ll try. You’ll try to get in and infiltrate my mind. Because I was so good to you. I know you liked it here. But the doors to my house are closed forever. I have put up a sign board that says ‘Positive vibes only!’. And we both know you are not it.

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