Boon.

Pitch dark 

He stumbles upon what seems like nothing 

Bright light 

He falls to the ground. 

Sometimes your eyes get blinded 

From what seems like a boon.

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The speech. 

I squeeze the already torn piece of paper in my hand. The only sound I hear is the ticking of the great clock in this auditorium, even though there is so much noise around me. I feel the sweat tickle my neck, even though it’s a really cold day and the boy sitting next to me is telling me that he wished they wouldn’t let the fan run. I nod through the unnecessary conversation we’re having. 

This is unusual. I’m not the kind of person who has an unnerving stage fear. But speaking in front of six hundred people isn’t usual to me, too. 

As my million thoughts keep colliding with each other and in the end, somehow discourage me, I find solace in looking at the “words of wisdom” kept around the auditorium. They aren’t anything special, just the same things said over and over to us throughout our lives so much so that we don’t even know their meanings. Reading them doesn’t change anything at all. I feel a little bit sleepy and hope this program ends before I get a headache. This is the problem with me; most people fear falling down when they go towards the podium, or messing up their speeches, but I had a totally different fear. I was afraid that I might fall asleep as I hear others speeches, or worse, get a headache and not be able to speak at all. Most people will find it weird, but most times, people don’t. 

The time hasn’t come yet for me to walk up to the podium. But of course, sometimes time decides to speed up and this is exactly what it did now. After yawning for the eighth time I realize that after the boy speaking right now, it was my turn. And that made me squeeze the piece of paper tighter. No, there was totally nothing to worry about, it’s all a matter of luck. And how I perform. If I let my thoughts wander, maybe they’ll never tell me the right thing. That’s why I decide to say my speech in my mind for one last time. 
Applause. It’s my turn now. I hear my name being called out through the speakers. I hear them mispronounce my name. But it doesn’t matter in the least now. Just as I’m about to leave my seat, my eyes meet with Heera, sitting right opposite me. She gives me a knowing smile and I nod my head. I know she’s praying hard that I don’t mess up.

I reach the podium and I adjust the mike. It’s too hard for me to not laugh at myself for being so scared. I wish myself luck and look at the audience. Half of them are sleeping, and the other half whispering. In the front sit the most important people. They’re all looking at me sternly, as though they already knew I would mess up. With courage and regret, I start off.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.” I say, louder than I thought I would. I see a lot of people waking up and a lot of people staring at me in disbelief, as though they never thought such a short and sweet-looking girl like me will have a deep voice. 

“I’m honored to have been selected to state my opinion on….” And I just keep on speaking. Speaking until I know I’ve reached the end. And then, the huge applause! The people in the front are all smiling now, and I know I’ve did a good job. Sometimes you start something with regret but end it with pride.

Crumpled dolls.

Glass pieces being sculpted like clay 

Dolls; perfect and always smiling 

Dolls; frozen in place 

Staring into the inevitable blankness.


Dolls; broken and forgotten 

Glass crumpled like paper

Streaks of moonlight entering through the window 

The broken glass pieces reflecting what they did not have.

Dear Dad. 

Dear Dad,

I may not be good at math 

Or I may always be on my phone

I may read my book late at night

And give a deaf ear when you scold me about it

But dad, I know, what you say is right 

I just don’t do it the second you tell me to

But dad, I do listen 

I do understand

And I do love you. 

So, dear Dad, don’t ever feel forgotten

Or depressed or maybe angry 

Because I hope to be a child

Who’ll hold your hand and lead you in your times of need 

Just as you lead me through all of this. 

I hope to be a child who’ll tend to your interests 

Just as you tended to mine.

Dear Dad, I hope to be a child

Who’ll be by your side 

And make you proud. 

So dad, on this day, 

I hope to have made you a little bit proud,

Happy birthday! 

Those tangles of weed. 

​Tangles of weed 

Unwanted yet beautiful 

Strangles the poor butterfly

That was chasing the hazy sunlight

Don’t you call the butterfly foolish

Because she herself saw nothing dangerous

Just beauty in it’s simplest form.

She didn’t know that the evil 

Hides behind the most beautiful flower.

The butterfly, unfortunately, turns out to be our hearts

Which chased the blurred vision of life 

Our hearts are choking in the vains of the world

Whether to save it or not, is our wish.

~~~~~~~~~

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A voice, a truth.

From the dark caves 

Heard I a voice,

A whisper, calling me near.

I’m a curious soul

Still falling into traps.

What I saw there 

Gave me a hundred new fears 

And a million new lies.


Now you ask me what it was,

Just like me, a curious soul still falling into traps.

But what I saw there is just your imagination

Which means that the fears and the lies

Are also just our own inventions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

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 Do check her out! Her photography is amazing❤  


How did this come to be?

How did this come to be? 

A song which we all danced to a long time ago

Is now played in vain.

How did this annoying noise come to be? 

A rich palette of colours 

Is now stirred with dirty water

How did this mess come to be? 

This room was a merry place

With all of us chatting and eating happily.

Now, it’s like a void, 

Left silent and desolate.

How did this haunting come to be? 

She, was a person, with confidence and love

With trust and peace. 

But now, she’s a havoc,

A storm that has not yet ripped us apart.

How did this come to be?