Suenos 100

Suenos 100

Dreamed it up myself;

My Suenos 100!

Put it together, folded it right.

Sans crease but slightly wry.

Hey, it’s still mah plane.

My Suenos 100!

Hopes of safe take off;

Promises of come back.

Good byes to mom.

And time to fly my Sueno;

He screamed, “Under my roof ,

Boy, You live by my orders!”


Bottled it up myself;

My Suenos 100!

Corked under his weighing orders and

Clouded by my loury regret,

There it floated for the rest of the flight,

My bottles of Suenos!


*Suenos( Spanish )- Dreams

Illustration by Meril Kurien Verghese  (iam_meril)




Slouched, slumped, bundled

My Body!

Soaked, dripping wet

Beads of tears and sweat,

A sticky stench clinging to me.

Violent cries hushed to silent wails

As they chocked on my throat,

Squeezing out through my clenched teeth.

I lay a shattered figurine.


Long hours passed before,

The tears dried up,

Lungs welled up,

I slowly stood up.

The mirror, cold blooded;

Staring; with impassive savagery.

Its callous cavernous eyes,

Stripping me with ruthless repugnance.


Bare, battered, and broken,

I say to myself



Stand straight!”

A yelp within.


Can’t let them see!

Can’t let them know!”

Lips stretched – ear to ear, with a steady shiver

Teeth blared – pale fear beneath a fake sneer

Hairs were brushed and cheeks were wiped

And a silent blurt,

“This is happiness”,

I coaxed a farce through my head

And put a bullet through my skull.

Not a single sound escaped.


Lessons from a 4 year old

Open your mouth wide
And laugh like no one is watching
Music is to be felt
Hum a tune or better, sing loud like no one is watching
Hop, skip and jump
Dance like no one is watching
Let the food you love leave marks on your face
Eat like no one is watching
Allow your mind to run free
Write like no one is watching
Let your heart take decisions sometimes
Love like no one is watching
Enjoy the simple pleasures of life
Live like no one is watching

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Sheets crumbled beneath her!

Eyes darted aimlessly around her!

Fear prowling behind every picture-

Light thrown shadows on the wall.

Dancing away to a daunting rhythm.

Fingers fought in frantic frenzy

A text of distress to her beloved read,

“It’s dark, it’s thundering,

Wind chimes making sounds,

Lights are going on and off,

Fan is spinning fast and slow.”


It remained a call in vain,

Her distress unheeded.

She lay hushed under the thundered sky,

Trussed to her cot,

With shackles of Fear;

Thick, dark, and vile!

A tear rolled gently down her cheek

Consumed post-haste by her pillow-

 Sole solace in her darkest fear!



Land Of Stories


Land Of Stories

“Lurking in the dark,

Behind the painted walls of blue,

Hidden from you and me

Inside the stained walls of black……”

Recited Kahaniwala Chacha.

“What Chacha?

What is hidden?”

Inquisitive innocence became of her.

“The World,

Of Fairies and Witches,

The Kingdom,

Of Maharajas and Sultans,

The Jungle,

Of Bhooths and Beasts,

The Love,

Of Princes and Princesses.

Shona, behind those walls is the Land Of Stories.”

Her eyes widened.

Her lips parted.

Magnificent marvel became of her.

“I want stories, I want fables!

I want Princes, Beasts, and Fairies.

I want Land Of Stories.”

She clenched her skirt tight with one,

And pulled at Chacha with all her might.

And Chacha said with a smile,

“Yes, my Shona, anything for you.”

Exploding excitement became of her.

Bound by an exhilarating ecstasy,

She scaled the stairs to the Land Of Stories.

Her eyes sparkled with delight,

Her lips curved into a smile,

She held onto Chacha tight.

Inside the Land Of Stories

In her moment of inexplicable curiosity,

The Kahaniwala Chacha asked her,

“Shona, would you like a lollipop?”

His hands inside his pants.

A silent scream became of her,

A hushed ‘help’ became of her.


*Kahaniwala Chacha- Story teller uncle

*Bhooth                       – Ghosts

*Shona                         – Sweetheart

la photographie


la photographie

A world pilfered of movement,

A universe frozen in her sway

All comes to a graceful halt

 And He vaunts, “I arrest Time!”

Sands of hour cease  

Captured in one blissful motion

 Like a ballerina’s adagio.

It pleases his heart.

And He vaunts, “I freeze Beauty!”

He calls it beautiful,

He calls it magnificent,

“Extraordinary” he hollers.

He flaunts his fabulous creation

Judging it, with thoughtless pride.


Mysteriously motionless  

Curiously stirring: It moved

His mind, body, and soul in unison.

An enchanting entrancement;

A reviving reverie within four neat borders.

 One shattering realisation

And his orgulous notions vanish.

And He exclaims,

“I don’t capture,

I don’t freeze,

I neither arrest nor judge.

I am nothing but a mere witness.


*le photographe- The Photographer

**Adagio- In ballet, Adagio refers to slow movement, typically performed with the greatest amount of grace and fluidity than other movements of dance.




She chocked for words

To soak her blank pages.

Well, she had to please a bunch of corporate turds

She said to herself, “I haven’t written in ages.”


She had a deadline to meet.

All her works essentially neat.

Hence, she felt a need to rhyme,

Though there was a crunch in time.

And tick-tock went the clock,

As she hit a writer’s block.





She held me close to her chest

Souls embraced each other

She wrapped her arms around me

Bodies melted into one

Serene yet Tempest

The music lived on forever.



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