When the mind doesn’t ache

The heart doesn’t feel

And everything outside this

Lose their relevance.
When you cross the threshold

Of all what the body can bear

Going beyond the limit of bearable pain

It’s a trance.
The mysterious peace

Where nothing exists

No pain, no thought, no dream

Facing your soul all by yourself

It’s a trance.
Amidst a crowded party

Or amongst loudest of music

You see nothing

You hear nothing

Just you and the silent lonely World

It’s nothing but the trance.
You hold the gaze of the

Seductive eyes

Defying all your wills

Allowing your unreasonable heart

You know it’s a trance.
When you touch someone

After waiting for centuries

The first trembling touch

That evades time and space

The moment stands still

And becomes trance.

The journey from zero to infinity

The numbness,

That  protects you from all hurt and pain

The mystical bridge

To take you from reality 

To the World of magic.

Thought for the Soul 

A young girl and her father were walking along a forest path. 

At some point, they came across a large tree branch on the ground in front of them. 

The girl asked her father, “If I try, do you think I could move that branch?” 

Her father replied, “I am sure you can, if you use all your strength.” 

The girl tried her best to lift or push the branch, but she was not strong enough and she couldn’t move it. 

She said, with disappointment, “You were wrong, dad. I can’t move it.” 

“Try again with all your strength,” replied her father. 

Again, the girl tried hard to push the branch. She struggled but it did not move. 

“Dad, I cannot do it,” said the girl.

Finally her father said, “Young lady, I advised you to use ‘all your strength’. You didn’t.

You didn’t ask for my help.”

Our real strength lies not in independence, but in interdependence.

No individual person has all the strengths, all the resources and all the stamina required for the complete blossoming of their vision.
To ask for help and support when we need it is not a sign of weakness, it is a sign of wisdom.

The Peacock’s feather (Woman’s Day) 

When I look back I feel a surge of emotions inside my heart. How could I have ever known where the path called life would take us? We had met in college, I remember for almost an year we were just classmates. We belonged to different groups and in college the difference in groups is so strong that it is almost as if alien territories and wanderings are unheard of.
The second year of the graduation marked the birth of our friendship….well if I can ever define this relationship which I have with you…sometimes you are like a mother, like an elder sister, then sometimes you become a kid and I take up the role of a mother. Some other times we are like friends, classmates….but every day our bond becomes stronger and stronger.But one thing is certain you are one amazing woman I have in my life.

You are someone I admire, love and respect and it was with you I have shared every thing in my life. I know you will understand, I know you will know whatever there is, I want to say but may not say at all. Many times we speak the same thing at the same time.It is not that we agree all the time, you have your own views and I retain mine we fight, discuss , scold …but then at the end of it we ARE there for each other. 

You have learnt your lessons well. Life has not been very easy for you but the way you made your way through the labyrinths is just amazing. Then when ever I needed a hand you have always been there for me. Life with all its shades of good and bad is happy because I have you in my life.

We are not able to meet often as we would like to, but we keep in touch in different ways . Its not only the chats or mails but more than that….like the other day you had called at midnight just to ask me if I was fine….I was not and I was amazed well no am not amazed any more now I know an invisible thread binds us and time and space also cannot part us…and as soon as I heard your voice something was set just right and I suddenly got the strength which I needed.. On my birthday this year you surprised me by sending me a photograph of both of us, sitting under a tree in college …I remembered the day with such sharpness that I quivered with happiness.

 The overcast sky and the cold blowing wind was all in front of me as was the Peacock who danced amidst the dark thundering rains that day with only the two of us to witness that beautiful sight. The trees which were laden with Gulmohor flowers, shed the red blossoms like wet rubies and the Peacock’s feathers added magic to that moment. It was a blessed moment and will remain fresh in my mind always. It never fails to put a smile on my lips whenever I think of it.

And then as we walked down the University campus road washed with rains and flowers and leaves we decided to have coffee. There was no one in the canteen and as we took the cups in hand walked while sipping …the coffee never had tasted better.

 It was one of those fleeting moments when you feel the presence of the almighty , almost as if you hear the soft gentle notes of the Lord’s flute caressing your soul. That day the blue in the Peacock’s feather became a shade of happiness for me in a very mystical way. 

We have walked this path of friendship basking in the joy of having each other in life. With you I can share anything, with you I hardly have to pretend, with you I can be just me…, you will give your support without any pre conditions.

It is said that people who sat near in Paradise become friends on Earth. I am sure my dear, we were sitting very close almost hand in hand…and so we retain on earth the same warmth.

When I think of you the first image is of your warm smile . I still remember that day we first met each other.

Today I thank you for all that you have been, you will be ….

I treasure your presence in my presence. It is like that feather of the Peacock which adds color and magic and mystery and warmth …the green the blue the black and more shades then I can ever count. It has a soft touch gentle like the whispering wind. The Gulmohar trees in the park near my house are in full bloom ….and as I watch the trees swaying in the gentle breeze of the morning from my kitchen window sipping my coffee I think of you and thank you …for being you….

Happy Woman’s Day 

I have been blessed with many amazing women in my life.My mother my grandmother have been role models for me. And then there have been many who I have admired for their strength.This  is for a very dear friend of mine..

I take opportunity to thank all the amazing women who have been and are in my life.


Love has a facet of blank,
That you can’t remember
Exactly when it has started,
That how long
It has been flowing
Inside your heart….
You start drowning
In the river of overflowing emotions.
Love is just a collection of
Really long moments,
The moments that can’t be divided
Into phases, seasons or time.
The moments,
That evolves with you,
Progresses with you.
Grows with you.
And revolves around
The centre of this euphoria.
Love is like a mystery,
Where you are stuck up
Amidst the cyclone of
Your own whys and hows.
Why your heart melts
Like never before,
And your mind confronts your heart,
Asking the age old question,
When it’s the time to rend
Why it wants to sew ?
Love is a matter of daring
That you get guts,
To defy age old rules,
To break a few norms of the society,
And to question a few  
Long followed beliefs,
Just for the sake of
A few moments of bliss,
The precious moments,
That can fossil the World
Atleast a thousand times.
Love has an element of pain,
The precious gift,
You get out of this exaltation.
The deeper the feelings
The deeper the pain.
The sweet suffering,
So dear to you
That you welcome like a long lost friend,
Preserve with utmost care,
Never wishing to part again.

The path I walk 

Some of my favourite things
It  was in a dense, dense forest …small amber light told about the dawn of a new day the hamlet near the river was awakened to the chirping of birds and the trees nodding in the gentle wind. 

Silver bells was outside her small hut her eyelids blinking hastily as she drank the new day’s nectar looking at the sky.

 She ran through the open meadow down the stream. As she reached the stream she saw the small birds – sparrows and magpie and some white doves playing and flying.

 The stream of water was singing a delicate melody, which was captivating. She sat on the bank and cupped her hands in the flowing cool waters. 

As she looked in the clear aqua she saw her shimmering reflection changing ever moment.

She accepted change and expected and lived with it. 

Silver bells had to run home leaving the birds and the stream where it belonged. As she went along the day she performed her meditative and reflections grew inside her changing her outside. 

The great winds receded and calm came from the heavens above. 

The songs of rivers and the seas were on her lips as she chanted and charted her course of her day. The deep resonating sounds of temple bells filled her mind giving her a meditative calm. 

The color blue of the sky and purple dance on her skirts and she turns to go to the masters abode for her daily lessons in pottery. 

As she reaches the place she finds some flowers growing in the wild she gathers a bunch to take back home. 

There are red Champa, some jasmines …fragrant. She longs for the blue lotus which reminds her of the Lord Nilotpala(Lord Krishna)…..and the flute… 

She feels she is like a flute where the life breathes music inside her soul. 

The sacredness of being a flute is what she searches. 

She is at the master’s place and the lessons begin as she concentrates on the clay she becomes the clay and the pot takes shape ….she discovers that the emptiness holds whatever she wants….and not the pot itself…she knows she understands, she accepts that we are just a tool…. 

The afternoon she walks back towards home where mother is waiting for her with a smile. Both of connect like two musical notes in a symphony. They define each other.

The hot food is almost ready. She makes her mother comfortable as she serves her with Bajra roti (Millet grain bread)and Methi sabzi (Cooked fenugreek) and some chanch (butter milk) and green chutney. 

In the evening the lights come on the sky as stars shine and twinkle. The small radio plays some old songs … 

Sham Hui Chad Aayi Rey Badariya …

The evening whispers something to the night as it comes with black veil.

She curls with a book on her warm bed and reads poems by Emily Dickinson 

MY cocoon tightens, colors tease,

I ‘m feeling for the air;

A dim capacity for wings

Degrades the dress I wear.

A power of butterfly must be 

The aptitude to fly,

Meadows of majesty concedes

And easy sweeps of sky.

So I must baffle at the hint

And cipher at the sign,

And make much blunder,

if at last I take the clew divine. 

She feels her other book on ‘Karna’ the first Pandav 

She will go back to her daughter the next morning. Those tiny eyes and hands hold her eyes as she grasps the moment and lives a lifetime in each. 

She takes her diary and writes 

Live one day at a time…. 


Maybe all we are is mere atoms in the molecules of another universe.
I have been having these thoughts lately, you know. Maybe we are like dreams – either a pretty long one, or maybe in some other universe, it is a pretty short time span and as the eyelids open, we dissolve into nothingness, like shooting stars.

It is both scary and beautiful that someone could dream of such a beautiful world and yet have the consciousness that none of this exists.

Do you think that they shed tears when they wake up and realize that these dreams, this world doesn’t exist or do they believe that this – what we have here, is their beautiful reality and everything else is an illusion.

Don’t be so confused. All I am trying to say is that maybe, they live in the vicinity of two worlds and they are confused, just like we are about the place where they belong to.

And maybe we are fragments of fragments of fragments. Maybe these stars – as they twinkle disappear into some other world, snap out of their dreams and then realize that there isn’t anyone realizing their beauty.

And you know, maybe, the shooting stars don’t burn out. Maybe they disappear into nothingness – the dust travelling to another world far, far away and then they burn again and again until they reach the place where we are all headed to.

This sky is a beautiful slate and as I lay down here, with you, I believe more and more that we are the sketches of a beautiful artist. As I hold your hand, I realize that in this vicinity – our small vicinity, everything is so unreal yet so real.

Maybe we are dreams and this sky is a just a black page with white dots and random blotches of white paint.

Maybe we are the other universe for someone else. Maybe this soft breeze travels through the universe, bringing them together, yet keeping them apart.

Maybe after a month, or a year or just the next second – my world will break as I travel to another universe.

Maybe this is my dream or maybe this is the reality. Maybe we are atoms or maybe we are universes ourselves.

Maybe you died in my dream and I have been stuck there forever or maybe that is my reality, too hard to accept for me.

But right now, in this vicinity oblivious of the complexities, as I see these stars travelling and these comets flying and these constellations smiling, with you, I realize that this is the place to be.

This vicinity between the two universes watching the transient transition is somewhere I could stay forever.

Because, maybe we are so close friends or maybe we are memories.

Maybe we are atoms or maybe we are universes.

Your importance in my life 

To me, you are

The soft rain

my reason to grow

amidst passion and pain

The morning sun

brightening my day

as my soul blooms

The ground that holds

my roots, unshaken

in wild storms

The mellow moon

among the dark skies

of my varied moods

The stars that shine

guiding me,

When I’m lost in Wild


The ocean wide

Every smile,Every tear

I’ve cried 

The clear blue skies

A love, so vast

that no reason define

To me, you are 

The air that I breath

A cliché, that holds true

to this day, of my life


“Tears are words that need to be written.” 
― Paulo Coelho
Too often we hold back, hold on, and end up crushing our truth because we don’t articulate what it truly means to cry….

Our tears are a cleanse we all need when a story is dancing in our soul. We must learn to let it flow. 

Our tears are the salt of the earth; they water our garden when our garden is thirsty. 

Emotional deliverance is a sure sign we are truly alive and full of love. And every time we release them, we grow a little more, rise a little higher and become a bit more in tune with what it means to rain. Don’t hold back, don’t hold on, just cry – and write your story. 

Feelings of an abandoned writing diary

Hi, Girl. There you are! after such a long time.

I know you are so much engrossed  with your college, curriculars, internships and all that. 

Yes, yes, I know. 

Is this the reason you are not spending your time with me ?

Have I become so uninteresting to you and lost my importance?

You know, you make me feel like an abandoned housewife sometimes. Craving for you like you’ve never loved me wholeheartedly, leaving me all by myself in this strange & lonely place, feeling completely unsatiated & undesirable.

Do you remember there was a time when you used to come to me every night? You would come to me when you would lose faith in everybody else. I was like a never ending source of love to you. 

I was like a solace that you didn’t only want, but very much needed. I reflected you. I reflected your courage & reaffirmed your faith in yourself, and that’s why you loved me so much. 

In fact, I also remember a time when you wouldn’t be able to sleep without confiding your day’s secrets in me. I guess that phase has passed now. 

Now, now that you’re happy on your own, content in your life (and for how long?), you’ve stopped coming to me, you don’t need me anymore? All that time that you spent with me has made me needy of you. I know it’s not your fault, but isn’t it a little unfair to me? I don’t have hard feelings for you. It’s just that I really, really miss you & want you to come to me sometimes, like you did before.

I miss how you would come to me to get your back patted everytime you achieved a milestone, no matter how petty, I knew it was important to you, and so, being as much in love with you as I am, I celebrated it with you. I miss how you told me every little detail about your day, and with such beauty, that I would promise to store those emotions inside of me for an eternity. 

In all the time that I have spent with you, I have come to understand how much you stress over the fact that it’s your time to develop & hone skills for the rest of your life, and you’re doing really well. I understand you. Doesn’t matter if you have to leave me behind for some time. Because you can trust me, I’ll stay right here. I am part of you, the way you are part of me. 

I’m happy for you, but I’m also very concerned. You know, earlier you never feared to voice your opinions, since you knew I wouldn’t judge you, but now that you try to do that with others, I know it doesn’t work. I miss you doing that sometimes. I miss you expressing yourself wholly. 

I always knew you would fall into the trap of writing fiction & leave me lying in the bookshelf as a piece of display someday, but I didn’t know it would be so soon. It struck me really hard.  But no matter what happens, remember that I am happy for you, and I will always have more faith to offer to you, whenever you decide to return to me.

And yes, these pages, these are your own. Come back to them whenever you want to, and you will be welcome.

Without you, I’m empty, both literally & figuratively.

‘Dear diary’