This Is My Muse.

There’s seawater and blood in my veins. I think I’d like that very much even if it were true and for the most part, I’d like to believe it is. Born and brought up near the eastern and western coasts of India, the sea has been more than just a salty water body with immense strength and untiring ways. Growing up with it, I never expressed the pure love I hold for it until I went away to study in a landlocked city.

The sea was my escape from a world that got too hard to handle at times, it was my strength when I thought of giving up , it was the monotony that slowed down the endless changes. As a writer , I thought I’d never write about anything more than once and yet each time I sit on the sand, my back facing the world, plateaued for a few minutes, I cannot but feel the urge to capture the waves that rush all the way from the horizon.

I understand the sea to be a reverie of sorts, the endlessness never breaking into the reality of this world.The unchanging nature – allowing me to believe that even as¬† change is the inevitable future of life – there shall always be a constant to come back to , I’ll find it right at the edge of a concluding realm.

We all need a point of reference in life , something that keeps us down , an infinity  that shall stay inspite of the mortality of everything else , a link that keeps us connected to ourselves . The salt water is that and more for me.



The Bigger Picture

I looked up and I saw
Pitch black
Not a point of reference
That glowed in the dark
Not the cousins of the sun
Blazing out each other
Not a join-the-dots game
I still played at fifteen.

I looked up and I saw
Whatever I dream of
I painted it in the dark
No witnesses to my art
Criticism had no place
No haters of what I made
As I filled up the sky
That had nothing in it for me.

I looked up and saw
The blue of the sea
Each a reflection of the other
No differences, just peace
Staring into the oblivion that
No man had ever seen
I saw the horizon hem a bond
No force could ever slay.

I looked up and saw
The colors filled in
No blank spaces in between
Shining in all its glory
For all the world to see
Nor hidden , neither camouflaged
I lifted the curtain of reticence
To reveal the bigger picture.


The Many Shades of Red

Red , they told me ,
A colour of the rising Sun
Set to warm the cold souls
Of the blackened night.
Red, they promised,
A color of inspired blood
Rushing through a being
Of immense humanity.
Red, they showed me ,
A mark of the woman
Tied in the sacred bond
Completing another half.

Red, I saw ,
A devastation and destruction of love.
The knife the let the red blood flow.
The words that bit into her soul.
The bullets that built a wall , unbreakable.
The voice of bitter memories.
Red, why had they lied to me.

Red was never one colour;
It was a variable waiting to change
Into the many forms it took
It was always in vain.


Draw A Line

The world is taking up
Taking up my life
Taking up my time
Taking up your energy
To idolise and impersonate
That epitome of every moment.
Little do we realise the new one
That we venerate at each step
Is only a mould
But who wants to be a second one?
Draw a line ; Shape the clay that you were cut out from
To cosy up in a niche that you carved.


Till My Last Breath

Can we rename life,
And call it learning?
Can we see it in new light,
That burns at each turning?

The coming of age
And the farewell of good sense
Turns into new roads
Of ignorance and folly.

The sun at dawn
That sets down on
All the light and glory
Turning away from us.

The receding waves of
Poseidon; taking with it
Bit by bit ; grain by grain
All the sand in return.

I see the school bell
That pulls away their mind
As you only hear it
Turn their pain into momentary pleasure.

Screeching to a halt
A collision averted
The driver hangs up the call
That could’ve turned lives around.

The turning of paths
The turning of days
The turning of pages
The curves that life carves.

At each bend, at each step
Pours in the need
For each step to find hard ground
For firmness to replace stepping stones.

Throw open the doors of your mind
To learning about life and
As you leaf through its stages
Climb to the peak of knowing
Wave to the people of yours
Let each wave be a learning phase.


Each one counts

I slid my feet under the warm sand
Establishing a link with the sea
The sea that made me feel a part
Of a bigger picture
But never embraced me, never let me close
It was the sand that held me
Comforted me and let me watch
It was the sand that got me near the sea.

Always a praiser of the water body
How easy was it to forget
The million tiny particles that
Got together to form the beach
The beach that let me be princess
Of a castle of my own
Each little grain being a strong part
Of my tiny creation I had grown.

The rough edged grains that
Grazed my elbows and knees
Giving them a blushed touch
That I would later realise
And regret my act of feeling
Too comfortable ; In the land
Of grains and granules that , like time,
I realised slid out of my hand.

Each second ticking by
Like each grain falling down
I feel the lack of control;
The little I can do to keep hold
So all I do is make the most
Of each moment
As I let the sand slip out
As beautifully as possible.

# Grain


He walked down memory lane
Stiff with fear.
Wondering ,the shape life
Had forsaken.
Lumbering down The Path
That was soul-less,
Yet, taken!

He wiped his forehead dry,
His parched throat
Clamping down his
Whimpering voice.
A roaring rage left him
In the midst of memories,
Was his only choice!

Those blinding lights
That hit his eyes,
A shriek tore into Continue reading Pathfinders.