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Engineer, poet, dreamer and a human. I say nonsensical things and mean it sometimes.


Every month, that same routine,
Red fluid busting out its way again,
The kitchen area is restricted,
Every food I touch is deemed adulterated,
Sanitary products are transported and used in secrecy,
Swinging moods are accused of delinquency,
Complaints about period cramps are abstained,
They say, “You’re a woman, you should be able to tolerate the pain”
“Don’t talk about it, because it’ll cause shame”
“Don’t wear white, because it’ll stain”

Sometimes it feels like a punishment,
To be born with something which is scorned over,
Isn’t it funny to call this thing embarrassment,
When this same thing is the cause of…

Beaming that flashlight,
On those pages of white,
In this cold, dark night,
Those eyes still open wide,
Words transforming into an absurd world,
Sometimes it’s dark, else extremely bright,
It could be a dragon breathing fire,
Or the pigs who were caught as liars,
It could be the acts of Little Women called “melodramas”,
Or the boy who wore striped pajamas,
This unusual thing called reading,
Stole the attention of many,
Taught to all those who read,
Imagine beyond limits instead.

A poem

Eyes wide open,
Hazy blotched images forming in front,
Incomprehensible objects moving around,
Needs being fulfilled after making loud sounds,
Eyelids drooping for a while,
and fully closed now,

Eyes wide open,
Shuffling through the notes,
Intense pressure from everyone,
Dreaming of a better situation,
Eyelids drooping for a while,
and fully closed now,

Eyes wide open,
Clacking on the keyboard,
Trying to meet the deadlines,
No answer on the other end of the phone,
Eyelids drooping for a while,
and fully closed now,

Eyes wide open,
Body in an endless slumber,
Faint beeping sound ringing,
Someone sitting beside me is weeping,
Beeps turning fast,
and then to a single continuous,
Eyelids drooping for a while,
and fully closed now.

I’m a person of no place,
Every half a decade, I would shift to a new locale,
The unfamiliarity staring at my face,
New climate and culture are now my pals,

Every conversation with a stranger,
would drive to the same question,
“Where are you from?”
Confused, my face was utterly vacant

I wanna ask though,
What is the place one truly belongs,
Is it the place where her ancestors spent their whole lives,
Or is it the place which gave her warmth and love,
Is it the place where her closest relatives reside,
Or is it the place which brought her close to herself…

It’s been a really long time but
I still remember that night
when I confessed my feelings to you
And after a few moments, all my nightmares came true

Heartbroken, tearful eyes, hiding in the covers
Didn’t dare to show my fully swollen eyes and quivers
It continued like this for a long string of nights
Making myself believe
‘You’re better off with someone else, rather than me’

Being an introvert
made me very choosy,
Had always friends
lasting about only 4 years,
Every time I tried to become close to someone,
Our egos would drag us apart

Never knew…

Laying on my bed,
Old and weary,
Thinking about one thing,
How time passed by,

Saw flashes of life,
Jumping from one moment to another,
Caught myself running,
Into an endless chase of comfort,

It was always new car, new house, new job,
I was afraid that if I turn back now, I would be lost,
Prestige, power, money grew on me,
Thought these were the things I should have with me,

In the end,
It got me to a place,
Where I turn back,
And I see no face,

The sky has gone dark,
View filled with squares of lights,

Walking down the road,
Minding my own,
Sides filled with piles of leaves,
Saw a bird sitting on top of it,
Strange to see that it wasn’t reacting,
To all vehicles passing almost by it,
“I think it needs help”, said my heart,
“Are you crazy? Why would you do such a thing?”, said my mind,
Social anxiety pulling me forward,
“You don’t know what to do, come on now!”,
Head engulfed with thoughts,
All about that bird,
Wondering how it would be,
Just to stay, unable to fly away,
And why I didn’t lend a hand forward,
When it needed the most,
In this way, I wouldn’t know,
How many times I have unknowingly done…


I like the kind of guys,
Who are really nice,
Specs all full-rimmed,
Beard neatly trimmed,
Hair all ruffled,
Coupled with freckles,
Kill me with his humor,
Save me with his smile,
Jam with me on 90s band songs,
And singing them all wrong,
Never bore me with his imaginative stories,
Or be a couch potato who binge-watch series,
Total bibliophile and a movie geek,
A little crazy and pure mystique,
Always up for long walks,
Would converse in meaningful talks,
Naah, this seems all too much,
Just bring me Chandler, it is all I want!

A lie like a thread,
wrapped around me tightly,
the bigger the lie becomes,
the pain turns out to be more intolerant,

With the passage of time,
it becomes more powerful,
teasing my memory,
making every single word count,

Soon enough, it will morph into something,
which you feared the most,
making it hard for you,
to distinguish between fiction and the truth,

Sharpening itself,
to be like a blade,
searing through the bonds,
which once held trust and warmth,

Forming a beautiful escape,
from the treacherous consequences,
swiftly shifting away from the doubts,
conquering the unimaginable chaos,

To get out from this maze,
a price needs to be paid,
an honest sacrifice,
to make everything right,

Wounded by guilt,
pride turned to dust,
maybe the confrontation with the truth,
could be your only salvation.

Is what we dream happiness of,

Is what the world stands upon,

Is what our old memories live to be,

Is what we thought our love would be,

Is what our promises used to assure us,

Is what we expected of kindness to shower on us,

Is a lie which we tell ourselves,

Is what we all thought we had.

Himanshi B

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