Memories are like wine,

to intoxicate the present,

and forget the future.


The beauty of silence…

When the beauty

of the silence is lost,

with an abrupt urgency

to cover the nakedness

of the raw emotions

fighting for the release,

the magic strings

of thoughts spill

the unfinished poem

of the lonely soul with

thousands of cherished meanings

never to be shared…

The essence of this life…

The touch of your little fingers

wiped out all the pain in the

depths of my soul,

Your first smile engulfed

my being with all the happiness

of its birth,

The first step of your

little toes made me

skip a beat,

I felt the pain

before your every fall,

My eyes followed your

every move of its own accord,

Holding you,

I understood the essence

of this cherished life.

The moment when

I put you before my own self

was the moment,

I understood,

The love of my mother completely.

I never exist for you…

The silence between us is maddening,

Though within my grasp

you seem far away,

You chase wealth,

I chase love,

Mortgaging your virtues,

You seek your desires,

Enriching this life’s essence,

I seek mine,

We drift along different paths,

Never to share common grounds,

Our mutual bond is a burden to both,

To ease out the pain,

I decide to part,

The love I had will continue

as the prayers for you,

Never try to miss me though,

From now on,

I never exist for you…


The women of today…

She is the silver of dawn,

The sunshine with her

captivating presence

radiating energy to

all that she crosses.

Holding on to her rightful freedom

her mothers and sisters fought for her,

she proves her mantel with

her intelligence and girth.

She loves to full, as she pleases,

Never to regret her selections,

She expects the equal love

she lavishes,

Mutual respect is the bond of

the commitment that she demands,

Wearing her individuality as her

precious ornament she walks

heads held high,

When she says “Me too” it is not

a petition for her freedom but a

sovereign proclaiming her right.

The dream of yesterday,

The women of today,

The way to tomorrow.


Poems never born…

The busy schedules paralyzing the


Words just stare ,

Jumbled like the puzzling emotions

tied tight by the strings

of relationships waiting

to be sorted in the time of leisure,

Some experiences waits to be shared,

Spinning the imaginations with

the golden threads of language,

The poem of my heart gathers its

colourful feathers to gain its flight,

To touch the souls ,

To heal the wounds,

To communicate the thoughts,

To empathize with hearts,

To enroll my prayers in verses

and words,

I do wait for

the moment of surrender,

To register the part of my soulful


To wander into my deepest depths,

And dig up my secret desires,

A poem waits to be born…


You’re my teacher…

Fluttering and flying

 with the wings of colours,

You awaken those dormant

dreams of my soul,

You’re the butterfly
Of my garden,

Spreading the magic

By your mystic touch,

You’re the smile of

My heart,

That flows as the river

Of joy to spread the happiness,

You’re the vibrance of 

My thoughts,

That I fill with beauty to

Spread the love,

You’re the identity of
My life,

That I cherish to blossom

To the worthiness of this life, 

 You’re the liveliness of

My sight,

Filling my life with the gifts

Of this blissful nature,

 You’re the rhythm of

My pulses,

Nurturing the beauty of tolerance

To live with a communal harmony,

You’re the life from me,

The connecting link of my history

to the generations to come,

With the pure little eyes
You Kindle the memories of my 

long forgotten innocent mind,

You’re the compass of my life,

Guiding through rough tides,

You’re my teacher…


How pained is this heart…

How true is this smile 

That I let the world to see,

How deep is this courage

That I let myself portray,

How pained is this heart

That I never let to bleed,

How dense is my tears

Never to find a vent,

The parts of act I play

In this life’s stage,

Merging my identity

For this role of survival,

Is the secret

I carry to death.