The Sun and the Moon

The Sun and the Moon loved each other
So day and night came together
Birds flew high on one side,
While the stars shone brightly on the other.

The Sun was Confident,
He was charming and ardent
The Moon was petite, wise and beautiful
For each other, they were meant.

But the creatures of the earth despised this
For some loved the Sun and some others, the Moon
How could a love so pure cause such pain?
Another love story gone in vain.

With broken hearts they agree to separate;
To agree that sacrificing was maybe in their fate
They exchanged kisses and said their last goodbyes
Till they meet again, patient they wait.

When all is done and they leave each other,
The Moon sets down for the Sun to shine brighter
The love of millions they saved,
Paved way for million love stories, and one to shatter.


The dogs howled loudly tonight,
The moon shone its glorious light
The room was dimly lit, yet oddly bright
The man in my room sat dull and quiet.

What a waste of a beautiful day, I thought
You see, it’s a day of celebration for me,
a mighty win I’ve had,
To not anymore be dreary and sad.

So I did what I love the most,
poured me a drink and made a toast
Then I pulled out a canvas from the trunk near my bed
The man in my room by now looked dead.

The planked Canvas gleamed its white
White for the pure, but for sinners tonight
I had all the colours black, yellow, green and blue
All of them, except missing one or two.

I dipped the brush into the red that was spilled on the floor
And brushed it across the blank Canvas’ core
The red looked redder than ever
The man in my room would know this…never.

I brushed for hours till the man on the canvas was made
Stained my lips with the red too; a beautiful red shade
When all was done and the night came to an end
It was time to clean the mess and play pretend.

The canvas mounted on the living room’s wall; 10 feet high, standing tall
The mess on the floor, nowhere to be found
The man in my room, not in the room anymore, but dug deep into ground.


A ball of sunshine full of hugs, cuddles and kisses; is the best description I could give.

Smushy, gushy little softie whom without I can’t do.

He’s the happy part of my day and what I keenly look forward to.

His smile so precious, his laughter even more. You would stop and have to adore!

Subtly curled long hair he wears on his fore, it moves so softly like the water by the shore.

His eyes so glassy and humble.

His voice so sweet: a cheerful mumble.

His inquisitive brain; full of interrogations. Has the ability to drive you insane with his questions.

Known for his 1 to 10 and broken ABC’s. a 2 year old, who loves sipping tea.

His silence is a sign of mischief in making, his screams are signs of irritation or complete foolishness.

But who could ignore this fool filled with love to share. Spoilt with simplicity and care.

As pure as a pearl, as naive as a pup, always making funny faces to crack me up.

This warm hearted munchkin though small, has got the biggest heart of all.

His joyful greetings are a treat. This bundle of love is someone you should meet.


Lost in thoughts,
Thoughts of all sorts.
Imagining how things could be,
Being happened or happening in multiple realities.
But our reality seems delusive,
A simple person’s life is considered inexpensive.
Yet, expense is spent on cruelty and injustice.
Discriminating between caste, class and sex.
Sex before marriage, scores low on the societals expectation index.
And sex after marriage, needs no consent.
Men and women will be forced into beds, as it’s meant.
Our reality confuses me,
Confuses me with its hypocrisy;
Though lucid it may be, how I wish to not see.
“Ignorance is bliss”, they say.
So in my limits, I stay.
And escape this stream of thoughts.
But again, in reality I am caught!


I’m a girl,

With responsibilities.

Living in a big world,

With small mentalities.

Trying to get to the north,

falling, farther back to the south.

Can’t have a voice,

I have no mouth.

eyes of the crowd,

Look at me with doubt.

Life’s a game,

From which I can’t get out.

Scars and stretch marks 

Are not a good sign.

“Fat” then I’m ugly,

Learned that at age nine.

Forcing smiles, but my eyes scream.

Tears dripping like ice cream.

They hit me to the ground,

I can’t get up.

They pull me down,

I am not tough.

No matter how far I go,

It’s never far enough.

I’m weak,

Or is this world too rough.