Poetry
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‘Deccan Reveries: Pune Poets Anthology’ Releases Today
Hi there! I’m glad to announce the release of Deccan Reveries: Pune Poets Anthology. Of all invaluable contributions from many established, known authors, writers, and poets, is also my humble contribution of two poems. I’d be honored if you could please check out the book and buy it using this affiliate link Deccan Reveries: Pune… Continue reading
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Being Humble
Being Humble Strike here. Gone there. The Kafkaesque nature of The momentary thought Is worthy of being rare. Doing. Redoing. Writing. Wiping. Committing. How else will you otherwise Wayfind that Something? Patience, my friend, Is a costly affair. If it strikes, it’s fair. If it doesn’t, it still isn’t unfair. Failure or pressure. Spark or… Continue reading
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Life, Sort of, Makes Sense!
It must be logic,For we hide carefully our aces. It must be magic,For even a thought can take us places. It must be tragic,For else why would people switch their stances? It must be a mirror,For a few change faces. It must be an accomplishment,For some deal with it in paces. It must be a… Continue reading
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Keep Writing
What is your reason to write? Through this poem, I find if I need one. Continue reading
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Only You
Amongst the notes, she found a poem that, as a folded paper, was tucked inside a notebook. To her surprise, my handwriting looked completely different back then. To my surprise, my writing seemed completely different back then. She thought it was more artistic. I thought it was pretty lame of me to concentrate on rhyming… Continue reading
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Ever Neglected. Never Neglected.
The perceptions. Love and geniality. The drumming, thumping, parading reality. Despite despair; nothing being new. That, which comes from within, is but You. Continue reading
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The Name that Wasn’t
No voice, no noise.No reflection of oneself.No definition; none for assumption.I am not myself. Now here, now there.I pity myself.Now this, now that.I am not myself. Neither today nor tomorrow.I can’t portray the inner self.One’s thoughts, another’s actions.I am not myself. Neither from the rainNor from the draught.From where do I thenGlean myself? I am… Continue reading
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What Stops Me from Writing?
What Stops Me from Writing? It is the fear of losing out— The experience, that is—on the Present That I sometimes Stop myself from writing. However, it is the boon of— Heart, that is—self-belief That I reserve as I Get back to writing. It is the fear of falling behind— the dreaded race, that is—monies… Continue reading
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The Call of the Pen
Pen down, digress not For you must scribe much more Than what’s beyond fantasy Write what’s fathomable in only a lore. Continue reading
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Here’s Monsoon
When the heat burnt souls alive,When the thirst to quenchNothing but physical selvesTurned all choices but naïve,When the harks went unheard-ofAnd everyone began to strive… The boon served us with a downpourThat drenched us with happinessDecorated our windows withInvaluable pearls of joy unspeakable And announced its arrival,Much louder than it announcedThe departure of despair and… Continue reading
The Wordsmith 