Posted in Artists, Originals, Poetry

The Stoner and The Storyteller | 2nd Anniversary Post


It has been a while since the storyteller told any stories
Stoned, she got. But, write, she did not.
This poem dedicated to this day
That happens to be her anniversary day
Of a union of the stoner and the storyteller
It is the day she returns
From ashes of a burnt building, that was her life
To write again of the adventures she takes
Into the gorgeous yet haunting depths of her stoned mind
To celebrate the union of the two, the stoner and the storyteller
They met two years ago, underwater, the mermaid and the merman
Building a life, growing a world
Underwater. Away from the world, a world of their own
A world of the stoned storyteller
She is here to speak of the unspoken, the lost, the burnt
And also the new born, the fresh and the pure
To sing of the play and also the plight
As she meanders through their world, like a fish inside a bowl
Only the bowl is an ocean, the earth, the galaxy, the universe
As the universe expands to ever new possibilities
She’ll learn to grow her world with it, nurturing
New loves, New lives, New flowers, New fruits
New deaths, New burn downs also New collapses
For she knows now, all things come in pairs
As she heard in an old poem from childhood
All that is born, has to die
Die, she will. Be born again, she will.
This day is celebrating her open arms
For all who may join her world
Artists, poets, dreamers, believers also
Cynics, critics, actors, halters
For this world may have all things in pairs, but
When underwater, all things are really one
One and the same.


The Stoned Storyteller

P.S. This song for the feel of the moment, so we are in the same waters, reading the poem, as the poem was, when writing itself.


Posted in Originals, Poetry, Reflections

What a sweet, sweet revenge, my love!

There was a sparrow at the window
My breath was stuck somewhere in
The back of my throat, my stomach
Crushing between my chest and thighs
I bent down next to crouched self
Mesmerized at our beautiful visitor
Together we looked at her in silence
As she chirped ignorant of ours presence

In that moment, I felt initiated
Into your magical world, the one
I was hesitant to step in, for the
Fear of leaving behind something
I thought precious, valuable but
That day I looked back in awe
And anger; And solemn humility
At my own stupidity; naivety

You stripped me of all my clothes
That guarded my skin and my heart
Against everything unseen; unusual
The empty threats of my mind
Dissolved in the watery eyes
Of our beautiful guest
I was a part of your world now
It was now my world as well

Standing up naked, I looked into
Your eyes, I couldn’t help but smile
At your guts; your fearless heart
That did not take my refusal
Lying down. But challenged me
To enter their world once & and see
If I could still choose not to choose it
What a sweet, sweet revenge!



Posted in Originals, Poetry, Reflections

Today Tomorrow and Always | Monday Musings

I cannot travel alone
Cause I get too attached
To people, too easy
Good byes are difficult after
3 hours and 3 years, alike.

I cannot be alone anymore
Now that I have lived
With you. They say that
I am obsessed with you
My friends and hunches
Psychology tests & trippers
Strangers and family
All confirm my obsession

But they don’t understand
That in each of our 12 hour
Sessions everyday, sharing
All of me and my 22 years
Of inspirations, tears
Soul churnings and fears
Has made you, me; & me, you
I now need to know what
You are doing, just as I need
To know what I am doing
Today, tomorrow and always.


Sharing with strangers your deepest souls, can sometimes bring light where there was dark for long. Cheers to traveling, like monks, here today and there tomorrow, meeting strangers everyday, making friends everyday.


Monday Musings

Posted in Originals, Poetry, Reflections

It’s a new life here | Days and Dreams

It’s a new life here
The other day I woke up
To a harsh reality
Of my own laziness
No underwear to wear with
A bunch of other dirtyclothes
So I don’t skip class or
Empty four buckets
(Water is to be spent sparely)
I choose a small bucket
Empty it all and put the
Four underwears in it
I then go stand at the tap
At the entrance gate
In front of the whole world
To wash my underwear

It’s a new life here
I wash my underwear in public

Standing by the drier I recall
The other day when I woke up
Shook by what my mind
Had churned for me in sleep
I saw you talking to me
Telling me stories of
Your long journey away
Showing me souvenirs
You had picked on the way
Trophies you had won
Memories of friends you earned
I woke up in tears, hugging
My friends, I sobbed and wailed
Not because I missed you
But because I lived you
Even if in my dreams
I cried not in pain
But in pure gratitude

It’s a new life here
I wash my soul in public


Late Mondays and Related Heartaches

Posted in Originals, Poetry, Reflections

The Slanting Slopes | Living (and Dying) in the Mountains

When living in the mountains
Burying foundations on its slanting slopes
You will be somehow closer to nature
Not because you see the mountains out the window
But because you’ll be aware, of how easy
It is to slip off the slanting slopes
With all your floors doors bowls and plates
Returning to their homes, in the mud and earth
You will realise that you too live here on mortgage
It is but rented time, that will one day run out
And slip off the slanting slopes in time
And I hope just in that moment
You will start valuing your life
Realising that white it is still with you
Your time is, yours and only yours.


Everyday Epiphanies

Posted in Originals, Poetry, Reflections

Till When? | Cravings of a Lost Love

Till when is this to go on?
Till when are pretending death?
Till when are we telling ourselves
That what was once the greatest love
We knew, is just another hormone-play.

Till when are we lying to ourselves
That the music has betrayed us mid-way?
When we know it is only taking a pause
And maybe a drop hovers real close
Or a new song awaits a new day

Till when are going to remain invisible
From the skies of my dark nights?
Till when am I going to turn to ignorant friends
For advice about our unknowable madness
For a relationship that’s as complex as it’s simple

Till when will you wait for me to fall weak
To be rescued by another pair of arms
That may not be as strong as yours
But will delude me into thinking so
By being at the right place at the right time

Till when am I fighting this oblivion
When I know in my heart, my gut and my soul
That you are here, always here, and I am never alone
Cradling me in your arms, sucking on my skin
Whispering in my ears, ‘You’re mine!’


Pre-Menstrual Cravings