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On the death of a baby girl

In the shade of our tamarind tree,
I often think about you, my baby.
You would have been four by now,
Maybe just started school.
Your mother loves you, I want you 
To know that. But then you always 
question. You ask me, "Why did you 
stop me ? Was I not reason enough for 
Happiness ?"
You were, my child, you were. 
I stopped you, I did not want you to 
die in the way I do. Every single day.
My blood and tears are reason enough
To stop you. Maybe some other world 
Is ours. Where I can keep you hidden 
From vile eyes, words and touch.
Where I can see you smile, walk and grow.
Where I can beam after watching your laughter.
In the shade of our tamarind tree,
I often think about you, my baby.


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Concealed by dark clouds
You keep shining.
Bright streaks of light
Dazzle me.
Enchant me.
And keep me waiting..
Waiting for you.

Amidst Soul-lessness

There is smoke somewhere. 
I cannot seem to figure out where. 
The lights are here, the music is here.
Has it been home here ?
Perhaps. Maybe when it did not rain.
Or maybe when it rained and it did not matter.
Maybe when I walked alone, smiling to myself. 
Or maybe when I realized I was okay.
Had it been always like this ?

Not really. 
Things clicked, took effort and blood. 
Did I do it ? Or the beasts did ? Maybe we both together,
Played this game. 
Amidst soulful solitude, it was love. 
Maybe appreciation.
Another journey, another dry spell. 
Will it ever be home again ? 

P.S. : Penned at Candies, Bandra on 11th January 2017 


The eyes searched someone. The one she could run to at times of need. In someone’s lap, she would pour out all her troubles.
Nobody came.  She grew up, rimmed her eyes with kohl. But they could never hide her tears.
No one came when her soul was ripped apart. No one heard her cries. No one mourned her loss.
After  a while, she thought that tears were a part of the eyes.