To Pappa

Pappa, I hate you for leaving without a word, Vanishing from our lives, your voice unheard.

I hate you for departing with that gentle smile, Soaring away, leaving us in denial.

I hate you for the memories which bring tears,

Feeding our sorrow, amplifying our fears.

I hate you for not allowing us to bid you,

a farewell before your last breath,

Departing swiftly, leaving us bereft.

I hate you for concealing your final trip's plan,

Leaving us to grapple, to understand. 

Yet, Pappa,

We miss your tender care, 

Your laughter, your games, 

the love we'd share.

In our hearts, your memory remains,

A guiding light through sorrow's rains.

Though anger and love intertwine, We cherish the moments when you were mine.

Rest in peace, dear Pappa, 

as we find our way,

Holding you in our hearts, 

every single day...

The Unheard Cry

O woman, bearer of life,

Why did you wield that cruel knife?

Nine months I swayed in your womb’s embrace,

Yet now I am cast, erased without trace.

The cave of birth, once filled with light,

Became my tomb on that fateful night.

I dreamed of your arms, your gentle care,

But met the cold of a world unfair.

My first cry, a plea to be seen,

You silenced, hidden, wrapped in a scene.

Thrown as refuse, my life undone,

A nameless soul, a forgotten one.

I cannot call you mother, no,

For love and grace you did not show.

The worst of sins, the heaviest weight,

A fragile life, you sealed my fate.

The law may shield you, grant reprieve,

But my pain lingers, a wound that won’t leave.

O woman, your heart turned to stone,

I was yours, yet you left me alone.

Remember this cry, though faint it may be,

It echoes through eternity.

A child discarded, a story untold,

A life unlived, a grief uncontrolled.

A Plea to Santa

Oh, Santa, bearer of light and cheer,

Don’t bring hopes that wither, year by year.

For children starve, their dreams turn black,

In a world where kindness seems to lack.

If you must come, let it not be in vain,

Bring healing for hearts steeped in pain.

Jobs for the weary, lessons for the lost,

Peace for the strife, at any cost.

Selfish hands clutch what they don’t need,

While the helpless cry and plead.

So, Santa, this Christmas, let your sleigh

Carry justice to pave the way.

Not toys or tinsel, not fleeting delight,

But a spark of change in the darkest night.

Oh, Santa, hear this earnest plea,

Be the beacon of what we long to see.

Gentle Wind

O gentle wind! 

Ignite my spirit with your whispered song,

Cradle my heart in your rhythmic waves,

Sweep away the shadows,

with your tender touch,

Lift me beyond this ache,

Let me soar,

Enfolded in the harmony of your breath.

Draupadi

Call me Draupadi,

Daughter of flames, 

born from the embers of Drupad's desire,

Whose steps echoed with,

the thunder of prophecy,

A woman bound to rewrite:

the threads of history.

Call me Panchali,

Bride of five, 

with warriors' blood in my veins,

My tears, like fire,

scorched the battlefield of Kurukshetra,

And my tattered cloth 

became the noose around the Kauravas' fate.

Call me Krishna,

The dark-skinned dreamer, 

carved from dusk and earth,

Who longed for a palace not of stone, 

but of freedom,

A palace that,

shimmered with envy in every eye,

Until the crown sat heavy upon my brow, 

and I ruled as queen.

Broken Petal

Beneath the moon's soft silver light,

A butterfly laments the night.

Her colors, once a vibrant flare,

Now fade to ash in the cool, still air.

Through twilight’s arms, she glides in pain,

Each fallen feather a silent stain.

Her heart, a wound that softly weeps,

For love now buried in shadowed deeps.

A hand, so cold, with cruel delight,

Stole her wings in the quiet night.

He wore her beauty, claimed her grace,

And left her broken in hollow space.

Yet in the dark, a spark takes flight—

Hope flickers faint beneath the blight.

For even shattered wings can rise,

To greet the dawn with fearless eyes.

Through tears, through loss, 

she’ll find her might,

Unfurling strength with each new flight.

A symbol born of grief and strife,

The butterfly reclaims her life.

Quill

O dear quill!

I lost you somewhere in the lane. 

I missed you with my heart. 

But, I never searched for you

As my heart was fogged in love, 

And the love was filled with duties.

But you spilled your thoughts in me, 

And thoughts need to crush my fingers

O dear quill! 

Now I lost myself in the lane. 

And you are pouring my heart with love.