
Only regret stays
If only…
What if…
Just like
Driftwood in rapids
People drift away
Some choose
For some
It’s not a choice
Time stands still
With moments lived
And unlived
Departures
Without goodbyes
Are the toughest

Only regret stays
If only…
What if…
Just like
Driftwood in rapids
People drift away
Some choose
For some
It’s not a choice
Time stands still
With moments lived
And unlived
Departures
Without goodbyes
Are the toughest
Life teaches
How to pick
Yourself up
Along with all
The broken pieces
Of your heart
And your being
One just needs
To be patient
Those life lessons
Are like strewn clues
Hidden in a flower
Or a bleak star
In the night sky perhaps
Or on the dark side
Of the moon
When pushed
To a corner
Or into an abyss
Don’t quit
But rebel
Your life puzzle
Maybe undone
With pieces missing
But new pieces
Are strewn around you
Pick those up
Try to find
A grander puzzle
Or a greater purpose
Or just be
An unseen gardener
Toiling away
For the new seeds
To germinate
Pick yourself up
Don’t give up
Yet.
20/1/2025
Gambling away
One’s own life
Taking risks
Leap of faiths
Seeking
The unknown
But gambling away
Others lives?
Especially our children’s
Thinking we own it
Is always dangerous
And wrong
A young aspirant
Gave up
So did the other and another
Fathers said
Fans need to be banned
Anti suicide device
Need to be checked
Let us control
All the factors
Look for loopholes
The peripherals
While avoiding
The truth
Sisyphus facing the
Heaviest boulders
Dared to pause
And not push
Not realising
It is not a choice
He or she had
Who decides
Size of the boulder?
Boulder of expectations
We unwittingly
Force our kids
To inherit
Boulders
Which crush them
Then we call them
Idiots who quit
We look for others
To blame
For our collective shame
Perhaps
It is the time
To imagine
Our young Sisyphus
Unhappy
With boulders and crucifixes
Of our expectations
– Jan 2025
Maybe the culprits and reasons are the same so are the innocent victims. Be it Gaza, Ukraine, Manipur and other conflicts or wildfires in elite neighborhoods of Hollywood. It is a skewed idea of entitlement, unchecked growth and greed. To feel entitled to encroach and occupy – not just other nations but also nature. To completely disregard basic tenets of human existence and Nature. To stop being human to create luxuries out of miseries at the cost of the environment.
What will become of you and me are in the images of the world today. The destructive progress will reach our homes too before we know it. Natural elements like earth, fire, water and air will try to tame the shrews we have become. Earthquakes here, snowfall there, wildfire here and floods, landslides there – we refuse to read the messages they bring just like we refuse to learn from the history of hate and war.
What will become of you and me isn’t hard to imagine…we no longer even persevere and aspire to leave a peaceful and safe planet for our children. What will become of us and them?
Escaping with little
Leaving home behind
A refugee in the world
Only a sky and courage to behold
Empty mansions
Tired caretakers
Only wealth to behold
A hostage to greed
Twain realities coexist
Yet they never meet
Peace is easy to violate
War remains difficult to negotiate
Ah! World…so predictable
With no new way ahead
We trudge the known bloody paths
Self-similar war games
Us and them
Power bereft of reason
Reason bereft of compassion
Compassion bereft of love
Love bereft of logic
Logic bereft of purpose
A farce called out
Wit bored of sarcasm
Futile cynicism
Kaleidoscope needs to be shaken
A new pattern must unfold
Out of all brokenness…
It is easy to imagine
You are sipping
Your morning tea
On your favourite spot
Reading your book
And suddenly
It’s all reduced
To rubbles
Except the place
Where you are sitting
In your favourite spot
You look for elevator
You need stairs
You need to run
Ground beneath feet
Did shake
And now it’s just you
On a high rise
With roof blown
Staring in disbelief
Incredibly lucky? Isn’t it?
To be perched precariously
To watch the scene change
Within seconds
You don’t know
Is it a nightmare?
Where did this missile come from?
When did the war reach my home
Till yesterday I was a civilian
A honest tax paying citizen bystander
When I did I turn into a victim?
A witness to such horror?
Do they even know I am alive?
My dear and near ones who
Probably are watching TV
Sitting in their favourite spot
Will they count me among the dead?
With no signal, no electricity or kitchen
I will have to wait
With this rage, confusion
Fear and grief
Why were we abandoned?
Who abandoned us?
The governments? UN? God?
Will this attack bring peace?
Cease-fire atleast ?
Nations will spar
Deads will be numbered
And not named
Living ones will have no names
Only identities
Suspended in disbelief
I wonder if the house
Was it insured for missile attacks?
But was this an official attack?
Will there be a paper work?
How will they prove?
Everyone will spin the narratives
We are good in condemning
What we cannot prevent
Words, words and more words
Us and them
We forget – they made us
And we made them
Imagine, it is not too difficult
Planet on the brink of extinction
But till the end money needs to be made
Stocks to be bought and sold
No need to see what companies do
Buy and sell
As long as they bring in dividends
Was this missile made by you and me?
Play the probability game
The answer may be infinitesimal
But finite
Ofcourse we didn’t know
Where our money went
Taxes and investments
We were just doing jobs
Building our homes
A place to be
With a favourite spot
To sit, sip and read
To plant our succulents
I look around
My spot, books, succulents
All are there
But rest all is destroyed
Reduced to a pile of contrete
They will find me
They need to mourn
And avenge!
26/10/23
In the name of the
Sun and sky
Let me lament
For the lives
That derailed
One late evening
Just as their lives
Were chugging along
As ever, they were
Destiny’s offspring
Unware that
That the game
Of destiny is
Forever fixed
Death is destiny
Life is luck
Suddenly many
Many lives
Ran out of luck
On that late
Summer evening
Destiny it is
To be born
In a land where
Apathy is normal
Kindness an anomaly
While their lives derailed
And were mutilated
Beyond recognition
In another far away land
Operation Hope
Was combing forests
To look for
Four lost kids
Their destiny
Lost game to Luck
Stink of death
Hits the nostril
Some poor creature
Took the plunge
Not realising perhaps
Its certain death
We can’t see it
But stink is unbearable
More than the
Death itself perhaps
Of that pitiful creature
That was living
Life and living
Death and dying
Polar opposites
Starting and ending
Out of nowhere
An unbearable stink
An indelible mark
Life slips away
Just like that
Into the cloak of death
She stood at the edge, constantly turning back. They should be here anytime soon, if they loved her. After all they had promised, they will look out for her and have her back at all times.
The train was late. She thought of walking a little ahead to get on the tracks in darkness to ensure the train didn’t miss her and nobody tried to save her. She kept glancing at the phone, hoping someone had deciphered her cryptic posts and reached out. Even one ‘like’ would be the last bit of straw that could save her.
Then she wondered what was the probability that anybody’s life would be affected if she stuck to her plan. She could imagine the indifference, smirk, shock, grief, regret and blame shifting that would follow. She could imagine a little conference, post her funeral, where everyone would say nice things about her, maybe words of regret too but they will absolve themselves for making her feel what she felt – a useless, harmful, attention seeking, selfish soul – which definitely she wasn’t. Or was she as they perceived her to be?
Just then a small toddler reached for her and grabbed her collar. She was wearing a red dress, it probably attracted the kid. She turned around and saw two curious eyes staring at her. She had always attracted young toddlers attention for some strange reason. The mother who was carrying the child was fatigued and bored. Obviously, since she didn’t pay attention when the child must have reached out to her. The toddler kept babbling as she stared at it with a blank expression.
Was this the sign or proverbial straw she was looking for? The mother looked at her and bluntly asked, “why are you staring? Can you hold her please till the train comes? I am dead tired, hungry and fed up. Why is she always hungry for food and attention? “
For a moment she wanted to refuse and walk away but the child by then was clinging to her. It was like life itself had embraced her and held her back.
She realised how flawed her logic was, that her toddler back home would eventually forget her. Probably there would be a nicer step-mother in his life. But what if that person thought motherhood and babbling of toddlers boring?
She looked at this young mother who was glancing at her phone least bothered that the child was clinging to a stranger. She looked up and said, “please help me. Hold her a bit, my arms are aching.” She had no choice but to hold the child. The young mother kept looking at the phone. The train was announced. She was in a new dilemma. But the child kept playing with her face and her hair. Instinctively, she too engaged playfully. They both giggled. The train was almost entering the station. She swiftly turned around and told the mother that she was not getting on to the train and handed the child back. The young lady stared back, “why are you even waiting on a crowded platform then? Are you here to receive someone?”
She didn’t know what to say. She just blurted that she didn’t have money for the train ticket and walked away – walked away from her suicidal thoughts. She was sweating, shaking with tears welled up in her eyes.
She walked back to her home. It was a long walk. Long enough to get control back on her emotions and her life. Long enough to realise that if a stranger could trust her, if she could show kindness to a stranger even at the breaking point then there is evidence that she wasn’t what everyone thought she was.
She also realised how flawed she was in thinking that anyone could replace her to be a mother to her kid back home. She needed to be strong to be someone’s support now. Back home, everything was as she had left including the smirk on her husband’s face, ” so you are back. I knew you lacked courage.” She went to her kid who was sleeping and touched it, only to realise the child had a high fever. She walked back and asked her husband why he hadn’t checked on the kid in the last couple of hours.
He again smirked and said something on the lines that he didn’t realise, couldn’t imagine, child didn’t cry, was doing very important work etc etc and since she had opted to be a housewife so it was primarily her job to check on him and not to wander off to kill herself.
She stared back in disbelief. She knew exactly whom to save her son from – pathological intellectuals and skeptics, insensitive folks so full of themselves – who will endlessly analyse, blame, shame and do everything except take responsibility and show love.
PS: A piece of fiction inspired by a spooky nightmare that woke me up.
I see humanity cuddled on footpath
Dehydrated in summers
Shivering in winters
Tattered and battered
Seeking shelters
Oh, humanity, what a tender child
Staring with wide eyes!
Or at times a wrinkled face
With toothless grin
At times, a young girl
Bold and vulnerable
As we drive away
Avoiding the eye
And the sympathy
Humanity stares boldly
And walks away
We have our battles to wage
Days to face
And a future to create
Humanity has no place in it
We have learnt to look away
And Humanity?
Round the corner
Evil finds her and
scoops her in its arms
For it’s victory dance
We did not save her
Yet we lament
Triumph of evil
And death of Humanity
Evil did not kill humanity
It was our collective apathy!
We clinged to our survival
While our soul was killed!