Tuesday, March 29, 2011


Fresh breeze, morning light
Chirping of birds, oh so bright!
I open my eyes to the flying kite
What's that lingering smell?

The first touch of that smell
Shocks your nose.
The smell stays, it offends
Until you run to fail.

Pretty soon I am alone
The smell surrounds me.
I try to run, I try to flee
The smell stands strong.

A bit of fragrance, a bit of perfume
Nothing would rid that atrocious smell!
The house is full of it, I'm stuck
Where to run, can you tell?

I jump down from my bed
A dead animal, perhaps a bat
I step on.

Nauseous I feel
Run to the bathroom
Stale water full of bile
Pale green, the rotting tile

The door, where's the door?
The room full of vomit
Rotten smelly carcass
May be the thing died puking
Will I die here too?

The door, the door 
I try to open
It's stuck.
How do I get rid of the gore?

Meanwhile the odor peaks
I try to breathe
But the smell fills my cavity
Offends with brutality
Things start to revolve
And I fall on the floor.


She sits by the window
A silent grieving figure
Her hair in thick black tresses
That fall to the floor

Her eyes search for something
The dusky shadows outside
Play with her hope
Love and longing.

'I won't forgive him', she thinks
Leaving me alone like that
What did he possibly think?

Let him come, I'll wait
Even if he cries I won't forget
And I thought of a thousand things to say
I'll say, come what may...

Night came with glowing tender arms
Twinkling stars held Her glance
I waited, thinking of what to do

He was never good with time
Doesn't he care for me even a dime?

A thousand things I have to say
A million whispers, the warmth of May
I thought of his tender touch, his caring eyes
And of our lovelorn days
Filled with my tears and my gaze.

The stars go to bed one by one
He was never good with time
And waiting's no fun!
It's too late to apologize, he should realize
God Dammit, where the hell is he?

I notice there is no moon
Never has been one
Strikes me a bit, but I wait
Moonlight walks, hand in hand
A little smile, in our fairy land.

Very very angry, let him come
Did he see the time?
Dawn wakes up, birds smile
I sit there....
Waiting for what's truly mine

P.S: I was inspired by the song "Apologize" by Timbaland feat One Republic for this poem.


Standing over six feet tall
Your eyes two specks
Your childish manner
Your sweet gaze

The way you always helped people
Your soothing voice
When you ran around teasing people
And brightened their days.

I steered clear of you
Your height was scary
I had never appreciated taller guys
But I appreciated you.

The time when you talked to me
When others were busy making fun
The time when you took the fall
For a mischief of another one

A courageous interior
Hid behind a soft smiling exterior
A will to help
A passion to flirt
Girls and affairs
Those critics
All that has changed now, huh?

I hear you have become serious
And smart. And studious
And aloof from "friends".
I wonder what that means

Was it the school?
The teachers, the "friends"?

But I don't know, I never knew
I'm just a silent observer
Standing at a distance
Appreciating you.

Saturday, March 26, 2011

The Dead Speak

I go by the corridors
Of the dead.
Bones, broken parts are all that's left
Of them.

They speak, those parts
In a way no one can
They know my secret
Nowhere to run.

This is the real me
These bones know
The living beings around
Just see me flow
With the tide.

They think I'm one of them
But the bones know the truth
The real Dexter
Society cannot tame.

Will they hate me, the humans?
When they see me killing?
But ain't I cleaning the trash?
A service for the community?

But I don't kill to protect.
I am no hero
Blood thrills me
I kill to live

The dead bones, the body parts look at me
I know what they say
'We know your secret'
I say, 'Shhh'...

But they might love me, those humans
When they see I kill only bad guys
I might be able to walk in sunlight
And be cheered upon by them...

I see a vision
Where there is light, no more darkness
People complimenting me
For killing those "bastards"

And I think: "This is what it must feel like to walk in full sunlight, my darkness revealed, my shadow self embraced. Yeah, they see me. I'm one of them In their darkest dreams."

P.S: My second tribute to Dexter.

Thursday, March 24, 2011


A smile on my face
Is what you graciously place
A passion so dark
It would make your heart black.

Can you take me?
You think you can
But you never can
Never ever can.

The darkness is overwhelming
It would blind your eyes
And you would run away
As everyone else.

You think you can handle me
Comfort me with your light
You think I'm cute
As harmless as a dove

I smile at your confidence
And praise your courage
But huney, you are but just a guy
A harmless little guy.

And while I welcome the night
Worship it with vigor
I know you long for the day
And wish it gets bigger

The darkness gives me powers
I am no angel
Demon- am I?
May be, may be not.

I love the night
Its awe-inspiring charm
Daylight does not excite me
But therein you are free

You say you are dark
I doubt it.
See another smile just spread
My face just lit.

I stand at the edge of a mountain
And look below
Nature with Her green bosom
Beckons me.

And asks me to follow
I look at Her straight in the eye
And fly down
Like a bird.
In her green bosom, my cradle of birth
Can you do that?

Wednesday, March 23, 2011


A little egg breaks
An even smaller head
Slowly raises itself
Towards sunlight.

Tiny eyes, black dots
Hope springs forth
And on a soft jelly body
It begins its journey.

Wriggling slowly but steadily
A little green worm
Passes by green mulberry leaves
On its way to become a butterfly

A tiny dew
Drenches it.
Oh no, it stops.
Lets the drop fall aside
And carries on forth

Nothing can stop it now
The sun, the dew, the wind
Are willing allies
To its fragile one-track mind.

The wind blows it away
A little fear of the unknown
But forward and forward it wriggles
Until something smashes it down.

It looks a little to the back
Its stomach, now a pile of semisolid mass
Pasted to the road.

Yet, it tries to move forward.
It pains immensely.
But the little worm carries on
Its tiny eyes- two black dots.

With immense determination
It pulls its leftover body out
The tormenting pain asks it to give in
Against all odds, it moves on

The thick viscous liquid
Starts flowing from its stomach
It tries but cannot move.
Dreams of mulberry leaves
Fills its little eyes with tears.

Suddenly a big tongue flaps out
Something like glue.
And the little bright worm
Is gobbled by a lizard
Waiting on a cue. 

I Kill

Blood - the smell
Blood - the color
Blood - the feel
Have you ever tasted blood?

The cries of the victims
As they shout for forgiveness
The thrill, the enchantment
As I hold my knife
Down their bodies.

Strapped to the table
Each subject, an experiment
My little knife pierces them
Part by part.

They shriek, their eyes bleed
Of water.
They think I'm a monster
But don't they see what I see, 
The madness, the intoxication
The terrible fascination?

Food, sleep, shelter
Are what a man needs
I but need
Blood of others, to live.

Warm oozing spirited
The blood drips off
I stare at it with dreamy eyes
And my heart beats
With a  spark.

I am very clean
Allergic to dirt
My temple- a sanctum
Dust spoils the thickness of blood.

People live to eat
I live to kill
We are all but hungry
What's the big deal?

Blood beckons me
Charms me with its zeal
I like my meat alive
A piece of strapped veal.

They cry and cry
Pray for one last chance
But my hands are tied
I am helpless at their glance.

I can only have my fill
When cutting them slowly, part by part
I kill.

P.S: My tribute to Dexter.

Room No.13

A dirty yellow door
Age old lock
Ancient design
That's Room No.13

Push the door
It opens noisily
The room is empty.

A sofa-torn with years
Silently waits for the invisible ghost.

A telephone aside
Half a century old
Dust settled comfortably
It's getting a bit cold.

Nobody calls anymore
Nobody picks up the phone
It just sits- a solitary ally
Reminiscing of the Age of Gold.

The table-where the phone sits
Seems burdened.

Weight of phone, weight of years
And all the weight it had to bear
Of blood, violence, horror and fear
In this very room.

A little daylight streams forth
From the lonely window at the top.
The rays hit the cobwebs
And get lost in the darkness inside.

The ghost of a room sits
Loneliness-its companion
And darkness lights it up
In the brightness of the New Moon.

Monday, March 21, 2011


So worthless. So lonely. What's the use of all the achievements in the world if you don't have people to love you? So futile. Are you that undeserving? That people leave whenever they come close to you. Are you like some sort of jinx that destroys everything it touches? What's the point. You keep on asking yourself. What is the point? Of relationships, feelings. Coz people, even animals you love are going to leave you anyway. Now sitting like a zombie beyond 2:30 am, watching an episode of The Simpsons. Sarcasm, pessimism, but how far can you appreciate the humor? And all you need is someone to care for you. How desperate. How utterly shameful. How despicable. You are but a person of contradictions. It's not that bad, you hope. But so unfit. And retarded. And demented.

A bit of Toby Maguire sure seems to cheer you up. I wish I was Spiderman. Unfortunately I am Invisible. I wish I was not. 

Sunday, March 20, 2011


Why did you have to come?
Why did you have to mean so much?
Why did you have to care?
Why did you have to leave?

What's the point?

I still don't get it
I fail to understand humans
But isn't it the same with animals?

They come
They spread joy
They love
They die.

What's the point?

How futile
How nonsensical
How sad
How terribly sad!

And here I am left
On the dirt filled road
Clutching up the pieces 
Of a broken life.

Something which could have been
Something that we might be!

The House

The House so busy
The House so full
The House full of people
The House is Haunted.

Through its corridors I pass
An eerie wind blows by
The doors and windows rattle
The house- a silent solitary lass.

There's darkness all around
The people- asleep or dead?
The gentle moonlight streams forth
And illuminates those laid

Bodies mutilated
Centuries of oppression
They breathe, these bodies
But are they alive?

Towards dawn
A phantom figure
Does his rounds
Through the unending corridors.

A quest for something
Power, Knowledge, Immortality?
Drives this phantom around

A lean shriveled figure
Can't properly see, can't properly hear
It remembers the golden days
When it ruled over the bodies
That now lie at the maze.

I am awake- not the body
I can see- not the Phantom
Then who am I?

Silently observing this haunted house
I see dead people walking
And working in the world at large.

Bodies shout
Bodies cry
Bodies try to live
A normal life.

But I watch and think
Is it possible
For the bodies
To ever live?

The Phantom has sucked them dry
Used their lives to live his own
And though weak, he still rules.
Will it ever end?

I see the Phantom
Trying to regain his lost kingdom
And still command mastery
Over those bodies.

No living thing survives in this house
Plants wither, animals die.
But the bodies go on working
And old Phantom King reigns
This Palace of Ruins. 

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Bite Me

Anger, Despair, Rage
Just another stage
I go on saying nothing's wrong
When there's such a big thorn
Comfortable in my throat.

Irritatingly funny
I laugh at other's jokes
When I am overcome with pain

You think I can write?
You think I am weird?
You think this is not a poem?
Burst aflame, Good night!

Why did I start writing?
Why oh why did I cry?
None of them will ever fill
The emptiness inside of me

Dark, hollow, lonely
I look at myself in the mirror
And all I see is a masked smiling intruder
Staring at me grinningly

I look at it surprised
What have I become?
I am not this; this is not me
Do I really pretend that much?

And it occurs to me
All those days
Those dark days
Those horror days
When the sun shone bright 
On my face.

And how I craved
The night.
The warm, comforting night
But it was not there.

And here I am now
In the grasp of daylight again
Amidst a sea of smiling faces
Pretending to care
Pretending to like
Pretending to be happy
When I am dying inside.

Protest against wrongs
Fight for your beliefs
They say.

I am but a coward
Looking at my smiling self.

For what? They ask.
What do you need?
I try to speak.
But my words are lost
In space.

I search and search
For the lost words.
Trying to find something, anything
To say.

But the words are gone
And I stare in awe
In the oblivious nothingness.

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Tabula rasa


Now Decode   

Tuesday, March 08, 2011


The name is Puchka, just Puchka.... Those of you who have had the pleasure of knowing me, know the extent of my popularity. And those who don't, well get to know me. ;)

I'm the hottie your Mom warned you about but we both know you never listened to her anyway. ;)

I am greater than the God- Rajnikanth himself! Now what does that say about me?

Bite into my deliciously warm soft crust. Hear the light crisp sound. Let it stay in your mouth. Now chew it. A tasty site. Now bite again. This time a little bit into my spicy potato filling along with the top crust. The first taste of spicy potato tingles your tongue. A bit of apprehension, a bit of anticipation. But as it melts into your mouth, you feel the lemony sourness, the hot chilliness and the spicy mixture also containing coriander and chick peas. Close your eyes. Allow the taste to linger. You become comfortable in the ecstasy of the multi-layered tastes that explore your taste buds. If this is your first time, don't fight it. Don't be afraid. Let it explore you. And you in turn savor the delicious soft thickness of the potato mixing with the crispy crust. Let the pleasure hold, for as long as you can...

With me, every time is a first time. Don't be shy. ;)

The third time you bite into me, take the remaining morsel in your mouth. There's something about gulping me down at one go. This goes specially well if you take me with tamarind water. The tangy tamarind water mixes with the cheerful potato filling and the austere crispy crust to provide a taste unparalleled in the world. Together we will be too much for you.Even if you are the most daring person in the world, you won't be able to hold me down much longer. 

Dare to?
Try me. ;)

Monday, March 07, 2011


I wanted to give the title of this post as "Five reasons why Guys are Dick-Heads" but then figured that, that would increase the readership; which is the last thing I want for this post. Mind's gone blank now. Completely..

And another of my trademark lines, 'So much to tell, so less of words...'


WARNING: As you might have well guessed by now, this post is going to be on depression and my apathy towards humankind; particularly the 'man'kind. The intelligent reader is therefore requested to press the 'return' key or 'close' button on his/her browser. Those who are depressed enough with their lives to commit suicide however, read on... :)

I have been sorely depressed for the past few days. Have not been able to sleep for two nights. Last night particularly kept me awake due to the myriad voices in my head. I am fucked up alright. Couple this up with my paranoia and you have a perfect person. ;)

It will not be right to limit myself by calling my mother an angel. She is more than that, she is like a Goddess on a  pedestal who should be worshiped everyday. However I feel that I don't appreciate her very much. She has tolerated my temper tantrums all this while. Last night for instance, I was throwing chairs and bottles all around. Yes. that's right, Agra coming soon folks.

She gave me an ultimatum on choosing the proper food habit (I've been going without food for some days now, skipping or not eating at all) or look for someplace else to live. Looks like I have to find a place soon. :P

So what's been happening in this overly exciting life of mine that has been driving me completely insane? Actually Nothing. Absolutely Nothing. 

How long have I wanted to speak up, protest when I see something wrong. But it has never been possible. The fear, the apprehension. Makes me feel worthless when I am unable to protest against some wrong happening in front of me. One thing that I particularly hate is the bullying of people. May be coz I have been bullied many times. I know a bully when I see one.

Making fun of someone just because they are different, ostracizing them completely from the community is something bullies specialize in. In my short-lived life, the bullies I have seen generally are mostly girls. There you go, now you know, I am not particularly fond of many girls either. 

Hence Proved: I am not a sexist; I hate everyone. :D

Just because the bullies specialize in dominating the slightly 'different' type, does not mean that they are intelligent. An excerpt from a conversation they had:

Bully 1: Do you know, the couple who is a distant relative of my grandfather's cousin's daughter's cousin's son had a second issue right a year after the birth of their firstborn. How did that happen? :O

3 Other Bullies: :O :O :O

Well, I guess everybody has their area of special interests. Their conversations however remind me of those Zoozoo ads.

So from being the butt of numerous "interesting" and "intelligent" jokes, I have now been respectfully admitted to the Official Bully Club. So how does it feel to smilingly kiss those whose tongues bear spite?

"I wanna thank my Mom, my Dad, the Official Bully Association of my school and all other Bully Associations that have taught me, enabled me, equipped me to be a part of this glorious institution.This honor is dedicated to all those bullies out there who make angry disturbed adults of young innocent children and hence make them fit in amiably with the rest of the world...."


It's funny in a distorted way. But then I pride myself on having a distorted sense of humor. Nevertheless, I still feel very inadequate when the bully group starts finding another victim. They were laughingly sneering about another innocent victim when one of the bullies looked at me and said, "She did not understand who we were talking about", as if to make allowances for my lack of understanding. (So considerate of her!)

I looked at her and said,"You people make things pretty obvious". She immediately looked down.

It enrages me when I see an innocent person being dragged into meaningless taunts and social ostracism when they hurt nobody and are quite adept with their studies and life. Which is much less than one could say about these bullies. I feel like telling them, that the victims are much better than the good-for-nothing bitches and their sons who talk nonsense all day and even make less sense than a can of trash. 

But I can't. Therein lies the irony.

I am not ready to be part of any group. Group-ism has a tendency to generate mass hysteria where normally condemnable things also become acceptable. I have seen some of my closest friends who are generally righteous in nature bring about unthinkable assaults when in part of a group. And I did not like it. 

I'm strictly against extremism of any kind. For that, if people think I am unsocial, so be it. I couldn't give a damn. 

Girls generally tend to hang out together in a bevy- for social purposes. And a bevy of girls is often more spiteful than a single guy. 

Having said that, let's return to the original topic of discussion: Five, sorry Four Reasons why guys are Dick-Heads.

Definition of Dickhead:

1) According to Wikipedia:

"Dickheads were a brand of matches released by Australian businessman Dick Smith in 1999."

2) According to The Free Dictionary:

"Slang a stupid or despicable man or boy
[from dick2 (in the sense: penis) + head]"
3) According to Urban Dictionary:
"A British Word which is used to describe a person who is rude and obnoxious. Most dickheads think they are clever, when they are far from it."
For the theoretical premises of our understanding, we will take into consideration the last two meanings of 'dickhead' stated for our research paper.
Time for a surprise: I am not going to point out any reasons for hating guys, but just point out some of the pathetic stereotypes I have begun to hate lately.
The Authority
Frankly I hate it when guys/men/whatever show their authority. And recently it has become a regular phenomenon. I have had enough of people who think they own me and control my life. No one orders me to do anything! And I don't give a shit to what  a big figure you are!

Spite. Hatred. Rage. All by choice. Controlling your temper for just a few days more. No More, No More.

Who says I can’t be free?
From all of the things that I used to be
Re-write my history
Who says I can’t be free?

It’s been a long night in New York City
It’s been a long night in Baton Rouge
I don’t remember you looking any better
But then again I don’t remember you....

The Popular Guy

Second one to top this list: Guys who think they own the world. Arrogance and self obsessive behavior enrages me. Talk to me when you need me and then simply ignore when I pose a question. You, my readers would naturally tell me to avoid such deep shit; well God knows, why I think people are capable of change. God only knows why I listen to my friends who speak so highly of such unworthy shit.

The Friend

Ahh... the Friend. Once a friend, now estranged. Indifference. Formality. What is lost can never be gained back. Still, a longing. And frustration when the longing is not reciprocated. I guess its too much to expect your friend to understand you. At least in my case.

The Heart Breaker

Ahh, my Favorite One! You spend years trying to bring your light funny side to his disposal. Everybody's opinions change, including the bullies. That's alright and relieving but what about the one whose opinions matters the most? What about the one for whom you fought with your close friend? One fine day, he tells you that he finds you arrogant! And in the flicker of an eternity, you realize that all your attempts has led to a BIG ZERO. You give him more impetus than he deserves- you allow him to show a bit of his intelligence-you allow him moments of self indulgence...all the time never questioning it. And you are the arrogant one. Well I've got only two words to say to you buddy: 

Fuck off! :D

You try not to get into too many unpleasantries with him despite the fact that he got his 15 minutes of fame at your cost. (Boy, now do I sound arrogant! Good, I'm getting there. :) )

You have always believed that it was not his fault. And this is what it all leads to. The culmination point.A slap on the face was absolutely necessary to bring you back to reality. Having too much faith in someone's intelligence, someone's sensitivity, eh? Not done. Not everybody is YOU. :D

It is arrogance you want, it is arrogance you will get. 

Be very careful what you wish for. You might just get what you want. :)


Some people have thought over millions of ages that 'advising' me is the best possible way to solve my problems. With due respect, you all are wrong. You generally don't tell me anything I already don't know. What further irritates me is when somebody uses my lines on me! I mean that's atrocious. Seriously huneybunch, what were you thinking? And yes, never ever tell me what to do. I hate people who preach. (Coz I do that most of the time and am pretty aware of the intricacies, you see. Preaching is for dumbos. And I am not one.) But if you have anything new to contribute, by all means do. Facts are welcome. Your suggestions are welcome too. Most of all, what I would like is a good listener who can empathize. Most of the time, the solutions are pretty simple. Any ass can come up with them. The trick however is to motivate a person towards the solution. I agree motivating me is not easy. In those cases, shut the hell up. Or at least try to listen. If you can't do that either, well then go away. I won't cry. 

Those of you who have been patient enough to read through this whole article might have one thought now: that I am particularly deranged and self obsessed. Yes I am. I actually felt pretty self obsessed while writing the conclusion. And you know what, I'm happy about it. Why I choose to be someone else's version you ask? Revenge. Hatred. No more Miss Nice Girl. Insects are meant to be squashed, not petted and so they will be. And no gender discrimination there, I promise you. :)

But you know what the most ironic thing about this state of affairs is? 

That after reading this, people will come and tell me that I write exceptionally well.

And then they ask me why I am pessimistic. 

p.s: Happy Women's Day.