I miss those days

Ah! I miss those days
when I could
put a cannister
on my head
and act as
a space cadet.

Ah! I miss those days
when I could
have a belly laugh
and roll on the floor
whenever I want to.

Ah! I miss those days
when dewdrops
charged me up,
Moon (Chanda mama) bewitched me
and when a
fountain was all
I wanted to
make my life perfect.

Ah! I miss those days
when everyday was
new for me
when I didn’t know
what future was
but all I believed
is that
it would be
bright like today.

Ah! I miss those days
when I unrestrainedly
embraced
and kissed
those who made me
feel good.

Ah! I miss those days
when the losing a toy car
was the biggest loss
of my life
and getting a new one
my greatest victory.

Ah! I miss those days
when I could laugh, yell
and outcry promiscuously
when I could
emote with
uttermost passion

Ah! I miss those days
when I could
get up, dust it off
and continue
with the same
exuberance.

Ah! I miss those days
when I didn’t know
the meaning
of politics, aim
aspiration, purpose
or envy.

Ah! I miss those days
when my existence
was uncomplicated,
my necessities basic,
my wants
restricted to candies
and a ride
on a toy trolley.

Ah! I miss those days
when I was
really, actually
content.
When I experienced
the happiness
and didn’t just
read about it.

Ah! I miss those days
when I was free.

More than just lighting it up!

I breathe you in 

Suspire you...

Those giddy spins

swirl in the air

 I suck you

Deep into me

 As if a nicotine desire

or herbal withdrawal

I suck you 

with rabidity...

You are

My daftness and my 

Adrenaline, embodied

I breathe you in...

take you in so deeply

that you became 

My scent...

My wind...

You turn into

The sweet lullaby

That runs through my head 

And echoes

Its pleasant chorus.

I breathe you in

Like a delicate wine 

and feel

Myself sigh 

and quiver…

From the dizziness of

The high.

I Breathe you in 

With both, prurient

and saintly

inspirations. 

I feel my

blood cells race

and Stiffen

And flow with 

the flitter of

unseen butterflies, as I

ideate gardens of

earthborn joys. 

True that I breathe you in

Like carbon monoxide

Not aware if

Your aroma

will arouse or kill

Slowly. I breathe you

Into me...

give you a role in my

Blood flow's story 

And so I 

Si-i-i-i-i-iigh  

till you sting

A cigarette… 

that skids through my arteries

giving me wings to

The High of Heaven. 

Replying to The High… 

Resonating to The High

Smiling to The High

While I dance at the bottom

Every time, I cease my sight

To slowly 

Deeply 

Breathe 

You

In…

I am one of you

I may be socially impaired
I may not  respond to you
I may not even smile back at you
But I am still one of you

I may not look the same like you

I may think and act differently

I may be lost in my own world

But I am still one of you

I may show unusual gestures
I may have different vocal patterns
You may call me language impaired
But I am still one of you

I may behave abruptly
I may injure myself sometimes
I may act a little insistent
But I am still one of you

I may not be able to concentrate

I may lack interest in things you like

I may typecast behavior frequently

But I am still one of you

I may not become as big as dad
or I may not make my way out
I may even die trying to get up
But I am still one of you

This may be a lifeless life
A flightless existence you may call it
A little attention is all I need
and then I can be one of you...!

Can't we do our bit to help people dealing with autism? Cant we help them finding their ways out?
Help them figure out their wings. They surely will fly!

Blah

I feel

unimaginative

Exhausted

Hitch in the brain

and exploited.

 

creativity’s sayonara

credibly steered to

some other 

locale

I  feel corny

fatigued

destitute of

any good ideas

or sensibilities

no self-contemplation

or extroversion

I feel groggy

while my body is active

my head put

to rest

calms itself into

a dream-like state

I feel uninspired

old hat

fatigued (did I say that again?)

draggy

No more

 excited

by anything around

I feel numb

bland

and bored

I feel dispirited

I’m just feeling

blah.

 

I had a home...

Once

I had a home

just like you…

a spouse

kids

and a family

 to care for.

Once

I had a home

where we celebrated

birthdays

anniversaries

dinners

and Diwali.

Once

I had a home

that kept us

from Nature

A space

we called our own.

Once

I had a home

Not only the walls

but an adoring

fostering space.

Once

I had a home

and I had

my stories to share

a life to look

forward to.

Once

I had a home 

just like yours…

There are millions of people who were like you and me at some point of their lives, forced onto the streets because of poverty, mental disorders, lack of employment opportunities, war, and lack of affordable housing. These were people with regular lives, a name, a family, an identity. Now they just roam about the streets with no name and identity  with a bag full of memories.

Imperfect Me

I love

procrastinating things

even if they are

a piece of cake

And I can argue

until the moon

goes to bed.

I hate doing

laundry

and I am

never interested in

keeping

my things organized.

I am judgmental

and opinionated

and you've seen

me being a

back seat driver

sometimes.

I love my own

privacy

and want you

too to enjoy that.

I am ambitious

and have a strong

sense of dignity.

I may not

be lady-like

in poses

and idiosyncrasies.

I nag at times

And love to complain.

I am obsessed

with planning

and usually have

alternate plans

ready

in case

some plan fails.

I am sometimes

egoistic

and clingy

at the

same time.

I hate

losing my games

and may not mind

cheating.

I am not patient

or wise

and I may play

a loser sometimes.

I keep grudges

and it's always tough

for me

to let it go

even when I know

I should.

I am strongly opinionated

and will not

like being treated

with the perks

that comes with

"being a woman."

I am always

confused

about where

I want to be

and what

I want to do.

I lie at times

When I think it's a

fair thing

and also sometimes

because it gets "easier".

I give justification

 for small things

where it doesn't call for

but still I have the

urge to.

I acknowledge

my "flaws"

and know that

perfection is

a misconception

a mirage

a unrealizable

paragon.

It doesn't mean

I don't try to

be a better person,

more liberal

less critical

more welcoming

less malign.

I never said

that I wont try

to improve

upon my shortcomings.

All it means

is agnizing

that perfection

isn't the criterion

by which

we judge

ourselves or

others.

I may not be perfect.

But my flaws

make me the

unparalleled person

I am.

They make me

real me

and not the one

I want to be

I am not perfect.

Are you?

Life's Beauty Revealed

A wood pecker on a tree;

A spider’s web; a humming bee;

Flocks of birds surging high;

How the seasons say good-bye;

The rising sun in the east,

How eagle snaffles its feast;

The full moon when slowly wanes,

The smell of the earth when it rains;

Stars that shine all through the dark ;

Snails crawling around in a park ;

A kitty’s whir; a sparrow’s chirp;

Ever heard the mice slurp?

Butterflies wooing the flowers;

Cows jawing the wad for hours;

The whickering of a grazing horse;

Walls covered by a carpet of moss;

An ant stocking a grain of wheat,

Droplets sparkling like little beads;

Water that makes its own course;

A rabbit jerking its pink nose;

Wind blowing away the pollen;

Ever noticed the rabbit warren?

Man walks on the road of strife,

For him, work is life!

But stay for a moment to look around

the treasure of beauty… Oh! See around!

And you’ll cherish these moments for a long time,

These gifts of nature are the prime.

The work may be devastatingly absorbing,

But, these are the things that make our lives worth living!

My perspective

Although it may seem, a lot of times, that there is nothing new to add to something,  I think each of us bring a new perspective, new persuasion, new theme from a unique viewpoint.

I’ve wondered many times why anyone would want to read what I have to say – after all, it’s all been catalogued before by someone more learned, someone who’s proficient on the topic or has researched similar topic in depth, someone who has more wisdom and experience. And all this “better” content is reachable to anyone who wants to Google it.

So, why then, do readers visit this blog? Why do I spend my time and energy writing whatever comes to my mind? And I have reached the conclusion that it’s because I have something meaningful to add. Maybe the central idea has already been presented before, but I bring in my unique perspective.

The person I am today is a sum total of my experiences and that started from my birth itself. If I wasn’t born to middle-class parents; if I wasn’t their pampered child; if they hadn’t sent me to one of the best schools in the city; if I wasn’t encouraged and supported to believe in myself – the scenarios are endless. Every step of this way, I have had experiences, got opportunities, formed relationships that helped me evolve as an individual and shape a certain vantage point. That is what I share with you.

I, therefore, have something to add to what has already been said.

My own words “matter” because they’re pertinent, they present a different take that is mine, and a lot of “average” people can relate with them.
These aren’t just echoes in a shriveling chamber — this is my original voice in a fast-expanding, interconnected, heterogeneous online world.
I have a story to tell that no one, other than me, can tell.