Compassion. It’s missing.

Hey hey hey! After reading this poem, don’t think of me as a bad person because someway or the other, we all do this and by this, I clearly mean not helping someone in need. We may see this person, giving the ‘help me’ vibe but we just try to ignore it. Hence, by this poem, I just want to put it out there, in the broad daylight, help everyone you can, in anyway you can. I have known people in my school who would sometimes see me in my most vulnerable state and not help me. And that is when I relinquish my faith in humanity. Which I should not by the way.

The man, lanky and
Lugubrious in his actions,
Filled with loneliness and
Compassions. I watch
With absurd interest as he
Smiles, missing teeth and
Yet, a light in his eyes that
Never goes out when he
Talks to his grandson,
Beauty and approbation
On his face. I conclude
With sadness that this is
The only time he is happy.
The only time the life in
Him awakens. The only
time his soul rejoices
And yet, I sit here, just
Penning down someone’s
Penurious life sans joy.
Doing nothing about it,
Replicating the standard
Human nature.

P.S Extremely overwhelmed by the likes on my blog. I love you all. Just know this. Keep smiling. Spread positivity. Hit the like button!

“I can stay away from my phone.” Said no one ever.

As I was introduced to the pleasures of technology in my early years of existence, I have been addicted to Whatsapp ever since.

Hence, this week, something weird happened. I have this enervating habit which requires me to check my phone as soon as I wake up. And by soon, I mean, right in the bed! As I was scrolling through, I realised I had NO messages on WhatsApp. And after that, you don’t want to imagine my wrath. It was delirious as to how my mind came up with thoughts like “I am worthless and boring” as plausible explanations to no one messaging me.

The whole day was spent with me frowning and just..staring at my phone. Odd, right? And at night, when I couldn’t take it anymore, when I HAD to listen to the beep indicating a message, I messaged almost everyone of my friends, sending them conversation starters and relishing in the subsequent beeps. Sick satisfactions, I tell you.

However, narrating this experience has a purpose. I am trying to illustrate how technology has fierce tutelage on the human race. No one can stay away from their phones or tablets, for that matter. And it’s disappointing. We need distractions. God knows I do, desperately.

Thank you for reading. Hey! Keep your phone down now. Oh wait, like my post first!

A Poem on my baby niece.

It would be a catastrophe,
If her mother is not in the
Same room as her. Her
Shrill cries would wake
Everyone up. Her tiny hands
would fist the air
In hopes that it will bring
Her mother back to her.
The smile that adorns
her fragile and frivolous
Face is too priceless.
So much so that others
Around her can’t help but
Smile happily and bless
Her with the uttermost
Sincerely. She would giggle
pointlessly at others
, revelling in their
Happiness as it is contagious.

Inspiration can come from anyone. Even your brother.

While growing up, I have never had the misfortune of knowing the struggle that comes with loosing weight. Hence, those incessantly annoying ads about weight loss pills or diet that pop up every once in a while have been blatantly ignored by me.

However, I may not have known the struggle but I see and feel it everyday in the form of my brother. You see, there was a time when he was overwrought. His fault, of course, as he could not maintain a healthy life style and a balanced exercise routine. But now, when some sense has been knocked into him, he has realised the worth. He has realised the value of life and how better he can make it if he puts in some effort. I am glad he is ameliorating his life.

So much so that the hot serving of pasta that once tempted him into eating it whole looks mawkish to him. That’s progress, right? Of course, we as a family try to mollify him and force him to have one or two of those ‘cheat days’ where he can have anything he wants (and regret it later)
But he refuses that too.

All I am saying is that we shape our own life and it’s in our hands to make it better or worse. Learn from your mistakes and don’t do the folly of making them again. My brother is truly an inspiration (right now, it might not last after he is his normal size) but yes, he is.

Thanks for reading. 🙂

Pink City. My city.

Is your city like mine?
People stare at you,
When you’re in your car.
Wearing shorts or not,
Their eyes will follow
You from afar. Having
A conversation on
Phone or person. It’s
Always mandatory for
Them to lean a little
Closer and listen.

Is your city like mine?
Where heaps of litter
Stands aloof like Mt.
Everest? Where your
Feet crunch on wrappers
More than the pavement.

Is your city like mine?
It makes you love it.
Mine is called the Pink
City. And here I am,
Loving it. Hating it.

Is your city like mine?
Where there is so much
Heritage that it makes
You loose yourself in the
Eclectic sources and richness?

I am asking you questions,
And there you are. Waiting
To answer. Imagining your
Own city. Think more
Think faster.

Sometimes, you love things,
You love people. You love
Yourself. Even though you or
They have made so many mistakes
And yet, you love them.

Thanks for reading! I love you all.


Constant bickering for air
Conditioner. Sticky finger
Tips from the orange ice
Cream after school. Sweat
Staining the school uniform.
A drained personality.
Tired and stress borne.Feel of
Soft cotton that soothes the
Inner being marks the
Beginning of lazy days,
Clouded thoughts,sleepy
Nights. As soon it begins,
We want it to end. We
Want the days for cuddling
Back. We want the hot
Steaming cup of coffee
Back in our hands. But
Alas! It’s summer. I welcome
It with drowsy eyes.
I wait for my holidays with
Impatience. To explore.
To relax. To know myself.
To ace a skill at my own
Will. To sleep till late. I
Keenly welcome and wait.
The feel of the ripe mangoes
In hands marks the stained
Clothes,the satisfied throats.
It’s just I welcome summer
With a little more fervour.

Hi everyone!

All of you who take the time to read my blog are sweethearts. That ping on my phone makes my day. You know what else could? A simple tap on the star to like this post or better, a comment! Tell me where I can improve my writing skills. Tell me if you could relate to this poem even just a little bit. Tell me tell me!

Thank you.

When she cooked for the first time..

It’s her first time in the kitchen,
She can name the appliances.
She can smell the ingredients.
She knows that she’ll feel ounces
Of satisfaction when she can
Cook something eatable.

A lady that could be no one
But her mother comes up and
Starts ordering her in a soft voice.
“Was the flattened rice.”
“Careful. Let the oil boil.”

The girl does everything accordingly.
A satisfied smile and pride adorning
Her features. What she thought was
Difficult all her life is right in front
Of her in the form of yellow rice.
The recipe so easy and nice!

There’s a beauty in a teacher-student relationship. While we may spend a majority of our time cussing at our teachers,they are the ones who play a paramount role in shaping our personally. This one’s to my mother-a teacher that I value more than my life. And to all those teachers who have ever taught me. Thanks. 🙂


Barefoot as the day she was born,
She walks in the grass,her toes curl
Against the dew and softness of the
Green carpet underneath her feet.
She is home.

Fingers grasping the petals of the
Pink lilac. Her curious nostrils ready
To take in the refreshing scent of
The flower. Her whole being feels new.
She is home.

Watching a little girl with her mother,
Who holds her hand tightly in her own,
Clad in a cap and school uniform.
She is home.

Letting her body bathe in the sun
Rays that touch her alabaster skin,
She lets it turn a healthy red. She
Lets the warmth reach her heart.
She is home.

Away from the noise.
Away from prying eyes.
Away from a house made of materialistic things. She is home.