Do come in

Come in

don’t stand dithering at the doorway

I leave the door ajar for friends

who knows when one might want to drop in

I can offer a shoulder to cry on

an ear for gossip

a cup of tea to soothe frayed nerves

a meal to satisfy stomach and soul

and some lame jokes to make you laugh.


be dismayed by the clutter around

nor if the beds are unmade

and the laundry all piled up

I am taking a break

from being presentable all the time

I prefer to be present these days.

I know

dropping in is not easy always

so you can call me any time

one can always drop everything for friends

at times all one needs is a listener

or to listen to a voice that cares.


of course there is always social media

to get in touch with

or when you just want to know

that reaching out is possible

although you are not in a mood

to do so right then.


I will still keep my door ajar

it is the doorway to kinship

for I don’t want to miss the opportunity

that I might have with you.


at the end of the day

It is friends who make

intangible difference to life

so don’t hesitate at the doorway

come right in.

Sadje, another one for you.


Double Wayra

1. Stir fry

The hot oil sizzles
veggies hurled against their will
spluttering in peeved protest
they hold on to crisp snap
teeth bite into the crunchiness

2. Shadows

Shadows dimmed by grunge
slink past mental palisade
tiptoeing without scruples
through customary cracks
ensnared by cobwebs in my chest

Written for dVerse. Today’s host Grace says: Writing challenge: a poem written in the wayra form, incorporating onomatopoeia  as described above. 

1. a pentastich, a poem in 5 lines.
2. syllabic, 5-7-7-6-8
3. unrhymed.

A bloom

Imprisoned in an unsightly grey high rise,
marring the already mauled skyscape
all around are brooding concrete fortresses
seemingly sinking, barely able
to bear their own unbearable weight.

the sun skulks behind
the grey, almost opaque veil
the moon wrings her hands
and sighs ineffectually
far away from the seas that
could have helped in ablutions
the pristine snow clad peaks
only glimmer prettily in pictures
not a whiff of breeze, not a leaf dances.

malodorous thoughts tighten their lasso
I wheeze, coughing abruptly
darkness in heart, dampness on cheeks
mired in melancholy’s mawkishness
I am startled by my friend,
the raucous one-eyed crow,
creating a symphony in the balcony.

as I step out to say hello to him
my eyes fall on the tiny
yellow bloom in the corner
not just promising a succulent tomato
but holding out a promise of tenacity and growth
gently prying apart the clouds of despondency
the smog triggers another bout of coughing
as I go back inside to the pervading
greyness sans the miasma
moroseness follows. Today, I will prevail.

Written for dVerse. Today’s guest host Dora says:  in the middle of all the holiday activity, whatever it may be, imagine a moment of pausing, a still point of epiphany. Perhaps in that moment, you imagine the upshot of all that shopping and experience a revelation. Or on that DMZ line of the soul’s religious yearning, an unexpected moment of truth. You can write using any poetic form, whatever suits.
What would having an epiphany during this holiday season look like for you (or someone you know or imagine)?

In all fairness (a Quadrille)

(From Pexel)

tell me, is it fair
to judge my worth
based on the fairness
of my complexion
I was not given
an option to choose
my skin tone,
but you do have
a choice to
not be unfair
based on how
fair is my colour.

Written for dVerse. Today’s host Linda says: Write a Quadrille poem consisting of 44 words exactly (not including the title) in response to the challenge. The word today is ‘Fair’ and it must be used in some form within your poem.


Just a minute!
before you cross the threshold and enter my home

leave your mealy- mouthed platitudes by the doorstep

wipe that look of fake abject humility from your face as you wipe your feet

and drop that pseudo hushed tone too

there will be no photo-ops inside

I can very well do without your commiseration in my hour of grief

but luckily for you I was brought up with values

that I am loath to give up even for a low-down scumbag like you

you may posture as much as you like outside my door

but once you enter, do not pollute my sanctum sanctorum

curb your proclivity to spew your sugar laced venom

there is a whole lot of people out there sitting on their haunches

eager to lap up your drivel and never suffering from reflux

better keep this visit short
for the sake of your so-called respectability

for profanities would be clawing at the back of my throat for release.

One hug

The crisp paper crackles
sending a frisson up my spine
the familiar sprawled letters bring back memories
I had pushed in the recess beyond recollection

the imagined fragrance takes me to the doorway of past
I hesitate at the threshold,
hovering. The staircase of longing beckons

destined to live apart, we had blazed briefly together
toying with fiery passion
and then treading the path chosen for us

in the twilight of a predictable life
ripples threaten to rock the anchored boat
yet I give in to temptation without demur

as he strides towards me with his eyes twinkling
I rush forward and embrace him
unmindful of the people milling around

there will be no more tomorrows for our togetherness
this one hug will be enough to colour my monotone dreams;
enough to live by.

Marrying tastes

High heat in the beginning provides a beautiful glaze
keeping the core tender
slow simmer then, for the juices to mingle
sizzling seasoning adds chutzpah making it truly distinctive
slapdash sandwich it certainly is not!

Two seemingly unlike ingredients
with similar underlying properties
a host of condiments added from time to time
to keep it fresh and save it from turning bland
a dutch oven to bring out the flavours
a melding of them so delectable that
in the unifying dish one can taste the unique flavours
yet the dish would lose its identity
if one from the two was missing.

Written for dVerse. Today’s host Björn says: Today I thought we should revisit a prompt from 2013 by Anna and use the concept of conceit. A conceit is defined as an extended and complex metaphor that creates that apart from creating an element of surprise. If a metaphor is used to enhance imagery the conceit is better suited to describe an intricate metaphysical or emotional subject.

Lighting lamps

Earthen lamps, candles, lanterns
and strings of tiny lights
all awaiting to be lit
trying to illuminate the hazy skyline.

Gaily wrapped gifts, boxes of dry fruits
and the ubiquitous mithai*
to be exchanged and shared with close ones
the leftovers to be distributed as a sign of largesse.

Petals, rice flour, limestone powder
to make beautiful patterns on home entrances
welcoming the deities and the guests
one designated day to do so.

A festival of lights, of celebrations
defeating darkness with light 
evil overcome with  goodness
the darkness within may still remain.

Written for dVerse. Today’s host Ingrid says: For this challenge, I want you to write a poem using only concrete nouns, subject matter and imagery. For the purposes of this exercise, the following words are banned: soul, love, lust, dreams, sorrow, suffering, heartache, wonder, etc.

In India we celebrate Diwali/Deepawali tomorrow. Happy Diwali to all those who celebrate. 🪔

*mithai- Indian sweets, confectionery, sweetmeats

The errant one (a quadrille)

(From Pexel)

as sunrays gently tickle them
muddled thoughts awaken one by one
sleepily rubbing their blurry eyes
they troop in my mind unbidden

but one faster and given to caper
jostles and careens past others at
full tilt, to land head first on the paper.

Written for dVerse. Today’s host Lillian says: The word for today’s Quadrille is “careen”. Remember, you must use the word itself, or a form of the word, not a synonym for the word. And the word must appear in the body of your poem of exactly 44 words, sans title.