Amateur writer , expressing thoughts and feelings. 


Hello everyone!

It’s been six months since I have started posting my work on an Instagram handle. 

I have considered the platform of wordpress earlier but with little conviction.

The fresh year motivated me to start afresh with my wordpress blog. 

I mostly write dark poetry, rants about situations I find tough or unacceptable.       I am an author of pain for I understand it better than any other emotion. I gather inspiration from everything around me, majorly the reason behind their sadness.

The audience on Instagram has been wonderful, I hope I am able to gather the same support on this platform.

Thank you for reading. Keep in touch for more


Chasing dreams

Dream , I do                                                    Chase, I will.                                                         But the ones I see with closed eyes, they are   delusional.                                                           But the ones I see in bright day light, the ones   I think about in those mundane times.           The ones I elaborate on when listening to   songs.                                                                  The ones that keep my blood pumping,   these are the ones I will chase.                             I hope they don’t turn out to be just another cloud. 

Forest of my own

am a forest of my own,                        every tree of mine has a story to be told. You were a chirpy little bird,                who came along one night and                decided this is your home.                                    I nurtured you like I do to all.              Not before long you were                 my favourite of them all.                                      You took flight one day                                      and didn’t return for so long.                                  You came along with Autumn,                    and didn’t like the deadness of me.  You turned around never to look back           and I stood taller somehow,                  because I had already moved on.

What’s Gender?

 For quite a while now , I have this stunted ideology or outlook about men. I don’t know from where it originated or whether it was a work of not one thing but a group of them. 

All I know is that I am supposed to be afraid, I am supposed to suppress my leadership instincts, afterall I am not supposed to be dominating. Where did these thoughts come from I wondered. I have never questioned them myself but all around me a wave of knowledge and awareness with the name of feminism is growing.

 This led me to question another thing. Did women always knew they were not being treated so great ? If yes, why did it took so long to do anything about it? If no, how did we finally realise it ? 

All these thoughts clouded my mind as I walked back home from school. A school where today I was not allowed to play football because there were no other girls on the team. Were they concerned about my safety among all those boys or were they intimidated by the lone women .

 Consumed by this turmoil of thoughts I didn’t realised I have walked right past my destination. I entered the general store as my mother had given me a list of things I have to buy. The shopkeeper after giving back my change gave me two bags.

 This confused me because there were merely four things on the list, I was sure one bag would have been enough. When I asked the shopkeeper , he said ” The other bag contains a dirty thing not meant to be seen “.

 I was baffled as to why my mother would buy a dirty thing . I went home and opened both the bags, one contained ingredients for tonight’s dinner and the other sanitary napkin, which I have recently started using. 

I don’t know about others but this was the moment I realized that women are not what they should be in this society. And I finally understood the need for that wave of feminism.

Fictional love

Most of the love we feel, we build it in our imagination. the situations we imagine, the responses we imagine. We really are building love out of fiction world and trying to match it in real world.

Such a futile exercise isn’t it. But do we stop? Ofcourse not. In our nature isn’t it. But is it a necessity or just an excuse.

Perfect Affair

Your armour wasn’t shiny.                              It was all rusted and black.                    You came from far away land.      Searching treasure beyond sand.          You wore your sins around your neck.  Your horse only galloped on wreck.        You had a deadly smile to go with your scars.  Even the gods could see them from mars. You were every Princess’s nightmare.  While for me you were the perfect affair.