The room is full of people

I have thousands of followers on twitter

Everyday I get so many likes

My whatsapp is always buzzing

But I am feeling so empty inside.

I have an opinion on everything

My status must be updated every hour

I Photoshop my pics to my liking

I follow all who matter in the showbiz

But why am I so unhappy tonight?

My parents are simple people

I am too ambitious for them
My boyfriend is a small town guy

Who wants to be bigger than me

I have scores of friends

We hang out everyday after work

But I have no one with whom

I can share all that troubles me.

I have to be ahead and better

I can not lose this race

I have to beat others at any cost

I can’t bear to be a laggard.

I have to have all I can have

And then some more to top

But whatever I have acquired till now

Gives me no pleasure any more.

No one knows the real me

No one cares for my feelings

No one can hear when I cry within

No one has time for me

I myself have completely lost touch

With the person I actually was.

I want to lie down for a while

I want to cry my heart out

I want to scream and be heard

I want answers to my whys

But most of all I want to be just me

I am tired of not being me

I want to curl up and die.


माना आदर्श पुत्र न बन पाया
पर दुर्व्यवहार भी कभी न किया
याद मुझे है सारे कष्ट जो आपने झेले
ताकि हम बने इस जग में भले
छोटे थे, तो भी सब याद है माँ
पैबंद वाले आँचल में था जहां
आपकी हर डाँट, हर मनुहार
बाबा का गुस्सा और फिर प्यार।

आज जो भी हूँ, जहँ भी हूँ
ऋणी तो सदैव आपका ही हूँ
बच्चों बीवी नौकरी में व्यस्त जरूर हूँ
पर आप का न हो ख्याल, ऐसा तो नहीं हूँ।
बहू तो आप ही पसंद कर लाए थे
उसका ध्यान रखना भी तो मेर फर्ज है
बेटी को दुआएँ देते नही थकते
कभी इस बेचारी का भी आशीर्वाद पे हक बनता है।

जीवन की जिस सीढ़ी पर आज हैं आप
कल मैं भी वहीं खड़ा  हूँगा
आप की ओर से मुँह मोड़ने का पाप
भला मैं कहाँ कर पाऊँगा
आप के प्यार का हाथ
बस यूँ ही सिर पर बना रहे
दूर रहता हूँ जरूर,
पर मन में दूरी कभी न रहे।

Fools’ Day

( A poem for my school friends referring to various hilarious incidents in school)
Now, how does one write a tale
That will tickle everyone’s funny bone
It is not a laughing matter, mind you
To have that rib tickling tone.
Either you will have people smirking at your attempt
Or merrily guffawing all the way
But whatever you write, you have to keep in mind
No stepping on toes, as you humour thickly lay.

Now, should I start with the tale of the boy
Who fainted while assisting at an operation
Or of the girl who fainted at the lepers’ colony
So that by the principal she could get cooperation.
Or perhaps of the time
When a teacher’s denture fell out
And for laughing out loud
The whole class was marched out.
Maybe of the time windows were opened
To let the climate come in!
Or when the pencil fell in the pickle jar
And marching orders to erring student given.

So many tales of ye faithful 81ers abound,
That I can whole day recount.
But nothing can beat the foolishness of you
In asking me to write a rhyme for you!
And more foolishness on my part
To walk on this foolhardy path!!
But the ultimate fool is you, my dear
Who takes the trouble to read this nonsense sheer!!!

Idli O Idli

( March 30 was supposedly world idli day. My tribute to it.)

How do I describe you
Oh! mouthwatering one?
Should I sing paean to your rotundity
Or the soft fluffiness
Maybe your pristine white colour
Or the melt in mouth texture?
And the accompaniments
which make my mouth water!
The delicious hot sambhar,
The textured coconut chutney,
And not to forget the fiery gunpowder.
There is none who can remain immune to your charms
Humble staple you maybe
You quieten our hunger pangs
How we envy all those for whom making idlis is no sweat at all,
Think of the rest of us, for whom turning out perfect idlis is a herculean task.

House Loyalty

( This poem is about the four houses we had in school)

Which colour do you choose?
Had we be given a choice
The same house we would choose!
For loyalty to the house runs
as deep as our roots
And players or cheerleaders
We were all in it together.

How we cheered for our teams!
And shed tears at shattered dreams!
Those memorable days of glory past
The memories of which still last.
Matches, races, jumps and heats
When academics took a back seat
And backbenchers took the podium
That heady feeling was more potent than opium.

That surge of pride that swelled our chest
When we marched as the house that was best
That inexplicable lump in the throat
When champions on teammates shoulders rode.
Whether one played any sport or not
None stayed untouched,the fervour everyone caught.

Sportsday made so many heroes
And they won’t be heroes if cheerleaders were not there
Sports was a religion for many then
They wouldn’t be on pedestal if the clapping multitude were not there.

Which house won how many times
Let this question no debate beget
House loyalty bound us all together
This lesson we should never forget.