dark side of nothing

still is for always
as darkness is, forever

be still in the midst of vibration
recognise the dark side of nothing

touch that part within, unstained by memory
and watch, even god shall become your slave


“that part within” is the Chitta
Here is a brilliant explanation about Chitta by Sadhguru

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was happy, then i wanted more

wanted more, when i could have had it all

had it all, when i realised i didn’t want it any more

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Another interesting assignment from my poetry workshop
The voice is a wall that’s watching you. Yes, a wall!
The first poem should be during the day, the revised one at night
Both poems to retain the same word count


Indeed, ears we have

Alas! No tongue
To tell her of my longing

For those footsteps at dawn
Scent of sleep yet to dissipate
As she craves her first cup

Whirr of these curtain runners
Light pours within, better late…
She glides past me like breath
Which can only be felt, not touched
My eyes strain, though nothing new left to see


Resist the night, dark is lonely
Steady breath, stillness of a meditative mind
Frustration of playing the same notes over
How pleasing the sound, if only she knew
Conversations on #JKL, pink fleecy blanket

Unfinished poetry fills pages
Absent-minded, she chews a Pelikan pen
Unnoticed stands the observer

A final cup, before sleep takes her away
Secrets safe with me

The mute!


(#JKL refers to a TV talk show)

The subject matter of this poem was frustrating
My notebook bore the brunt of it :(
I never stared so hard at a wall in my life
More unnerving was the realisation that the wall was also looking at me :o

Observe the structure
Poems had to be written in a modified Fibonacci sequence
The first poem 1 line, 2 lines, 3 lines, 5 lines
For the second poem, the shape had to be inverted
5 lines, 3 lines, 2 lines, 1 line

I have mostly written freehand, unruly poetry
Being introduced to the concepts of structure is utterly fascinating
When we observe a discipline, something very different from what you intend emerges
So glad I made the effort of participating in the workshop

The time I decided to share my writing, I had a mere handful of poems
And no idea how I was ever going to fill up the blog
Today, I am inching so close to 400 posts!
I have learnt from this amazing 4 1/2 year journey – Just take the first step…

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end of forever

… and then forever shall surely end

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Red Stilettos, and a Pair of Shoes

high-heeled-shoes-285664The following poem and its revised version are inspired by my Poetry workshop.

The speaker in the poem is a shoe and it is written by connecting unlikely items.

This is a change from serious themes I tend to take on. So much fun to write about something ordinary and make it seem extraordinary or to be precise, extra ordinary. So here is…

Red Stilettos, and a Pair of Shoes

Ashamed, neglected, undusted
Squelching on morning’s marmalade
Sticky, bitter, eager
Uncollected mail, dejected heap
Red stilettos, sighs and goodbyes
Candle wax, insignia on wooden tiles
The piggy bank, hollow, implores
Chipped vinyl, forgotten tunes
Compass, lost and
A journey has just begun
How much…
How much have we left behind?


forgotten were those chipped stilettos that implored upon
the vinyl floor that morning, dejected with goodbyes
aroma of a bitter brew, neglected hollow tunes

red map with kingly insignia lay beneath undusted tiles
pointed to an unashamed compass, eagerly led
the pair of us to a heap of uncollected inheritance


image credit

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a voice from the past

a voice from the past made a revelation
we fell prey to misinterpretation
practised discrimination
with little contrition

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The Importance of Being an Object

The exercise for this week’s poetry workshop was most exciting and I couldn’t wait to post it (even though I have not yet submitted my assignment!) We had to write a 6 line poem in tercets from the perspective of an item we wear or carry frequently. Here is my take on it:

unexposed, though I swell with importance
knowing that of my presence she is aware
confidently, I cling, yet

craving the world to observe, through her eyes
instead, living in the shadows of the hem
an unseen tether, a delicate ankle, sparkling

This poem I decided to include it in the Relationships category. I have a special bond with my anklet :)

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experience the joy of light
as it splits into seven bands
experience the divine melody
harmonised infintely by seven notes
experience the ecstasy of living when
energy flows through the seven chakras*


* Chakras are energy centers in our body.
“….music was not just entertainment, it was a spiritual process.”
Please read more about chakras, music and spirituality in this article.

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After I created A Land, Broken at my poetry workshop we had to rearrange the same poem from 2 quatrains to 4 couplets, without deleting or adding any words. 

when should we be unheard?
we, the interdependent and erect hearts

spoke in the master’s tongue
                                “forget our broken blood was borderless

                                what we reject is a line once written and sung
                                when a land by that one independent carved wall is

                                never in pain, the same seamless songs around her”

I guess since I had no intention behind the poem, its meaning is open to interpretation. Would love to know what you got from this rearranged poem. It wasn’t easy I must say! But it was something different and it was lots of fun.

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A Land, Broken

I am participating in a Poetry Workshop where we will develop a habit of writing poems. The task for this week was to write an 8-line poem that has 2 quatrains (4 lines each)
Being the 14th/15th August, I was inspired to write:

When a land is broken by her masters
And the pain we forget, celebrate
What was seamless, borderless
Should never be independent… Interdependent!

When a line is carved around our hearts
And the wall we erect, reject
That we spoke in one tongue, sung
Songs once written in the same blood….Unheard!


P.S This poem is posted under the Category – Relationships. I hope you understand why.

Edit: Please see how I rearranged this poem here

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