A poem about the spectrum of living, growing, and thriving – all through life, through time in multicolour as colours turn to metaphors.
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A Yellow Phenomenon
“Yellow, always so bright and luminous, capturing my attention to show me that insanity is always the path to courage…”
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Never Give Up
An inspirational poem reiterating that no matter what happens, never give up. You’re a fighter through and through, and there’s a strength within you.
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Yellow
A poem inspired by the colour yellow. It takes us through sunrise and the meaning it holds for the writer as well as the reader.
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Maiden of the Sun
“…Through her veins, they breed and bleed / Maiden of the sun, brightest yellow / Spirit so sublime, heart so mellow…” A poem about the sun.
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Delhi Isn’t Delhi Anymore
“This was my city, where I spent my childhood. I called it home because that is what home meant.” Read about the city of Delhi becoming home, and a listicle of childhood memories revived.
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A Blank Canvas
“As for me, a blank canvas is still the most beautiful piece of art.
Free to become a master piece, whatever the artist wishes to see.”
Words Come With Flowers
A poem of flowers and the seas, describing the oneness of nature and us, and a strange revival of the past, all leading to nought.
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A Wishlist Item for The New Year- The Roaring ’20s!
The roaring ’20s… full of exuberance and excellence. Everything was over the top, every emotion was over-felt, and every occasion was over-celebrated. It was filled with the oddest but sweetest summers, similar to an over-ripened peach fruit left outside for a while…
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A New Night
About unfiltered nights, where gold melts into blue.
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The Autumn Leaf
He has been sculpted like a painter and painted like a sculptor. All the poetry is for him, for the dead Maple leaf, the thousand stanzas that a poet creates is just for him, the innumerable colors of life, of celebration, of sacrifice, that a painter’s brush creates, is for him. It is for the withered, surrendered, dead Maple leaf.
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A Taste of Home
…I could sense the nostalgia she felt when she would talk about home, although I never quite realised the extent of it. She loved cooking, which was partly the reason why I used to visit their place so frequently.
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