The fears I live with.

I fear to live in the society now-a-days….

I fear to look at a female because she might report me at some police station that I was trying to molest.

I fear sitting, walking beside a female because what if I brush by her accidentally and she blames me for teasing her.

I fear to approach a girl. That is because I am introverted/shy. It has nothing to do with the above-mentioned fears.

These are the fears which make my life ‘not normal’.


Encounter with a kind Rickshaw Puller

*Encounter with a kind Rickshaw Puller**

I was walking down the road just to change my mood and relax my nerves. I saw, someone coming from the opposite side and giving the rickshaw puller some food. I was not shocked to see that because in India, some people don’t like to waste the food and when the food is left they gave it to the needy.

This story is not about the person who gave the food to the rickshaw puller this is about the rickshaw puller himself.

When that person is gone, he looked around and saw another rickshaw puller. He, with the food in his one hand, approached that fellow, and asked him if he was hungry. The other man replied in the affirmative. He then offered him half of the food given to him, came back and started eating his share in silence.

When he was done, I approached him and asked him, “Weren’t you hungry, pal?”

He: I was… I haven’t had anything from the morning.

Me: Is he your friend?

He: No. I just came in this town few days back. I know why are you asking? You want to know why I gave him the food?

Well, I was curious to know why??

He: I don’t know that he was hungry too. I asked him and he said yes so I shared the food with him. He was here before me. It’s his spot. I am new here. If I hadn’t been here today that guy would have given the food to him. I accepted the help because I was hungry. And I just couldn’t eat without asking him.

I was astounded with the answer.

I had no reply.

I was in tears, but I tried not to show him.

I shook hands with the man with some sort of pride in his actions and moved on thinking about the lesson I just learned from him.

I had everything I can dream of yet I don’t share it with my own family, but that rickshaw puller who had so little to offer and he didn’t think once before sharing it with others.

Moral of the story: Don’t wait till you achieve something to help others just do it now with as little or as much as you have.

You won’t get any poor by giving.


Darkness vs Light

There is darkness inside of me
I don’t know where
But it is somewhere.
It is telling me to quit.
To stop doing it.
And then
feel bad about it.
I don’t listen to the dark me.
Because I know
it won’t let me be.

But there too is light.
Though, not that bright.
Sometimes it gets lost.
Sometimes I find it.
Whenever I do, I ask it to stay,
To show me the way.
That makes me stay on the path,
to avoid the wrath,
and make sure everything is good,
in the aftermath!

Yes, they are both in me.
Staying on the opposite ends.
Like Yin and Yang.
They don’t meet.
Because they know, they will fight.
And darkness fears to lose it to the light.
So both are there on the opposite side.
maybe that’s good…
maybe that’s necessary to survive.
maybe that is what keeping me alive.

My Country India.

My Country India

With the stroke of midnight hour,
We made a tryst with destiny,
A nation born which was ours.
And being Indian was now our identity.

With a new life, a new idea,
Was born my country INDIA.

The tricolor is up and high,
Still, there were tears in the eye,
Remembering the struggle of those who bled,
With their blood, they color its thread.
To remember their struggle, their demise,
And to ensure our future a better sunrise,
Some new pledges and promises were made,
On them, the foundation of our Nation was laid.

With a golden pen, writing a new saga
Will reach heights my country INDIA.

70 years have passed now,
We harvest more than what we sow,
A few promises were fulfilled,
A lot not, though,
New ideas, new obligations are required,
From the struggle and sufferings, they should be inspired.
Teachings of Gandhi, Nehru, we should embody,
Mixing them with youth’s will and audacity,
We can write a harmonious melody.

With a new awakening, a new era
Will keep rising my country INDIA.

I salute the mother, this nation of mine,
With the hope in my heart,
That this generation will not get malign.
Saying all that, I am putting my pen to rest.
Because I only want My INDIA to be better than the best.

May this dawn of many millennia,
Will never leave my country INDIA.


I cry a lot these days…

I cry a lot these days.

When I see the pain in my mother’s eyes,
I cry.
When I see a father sacrificing his dreams,
I cry.
When I see a soul suffering in his shell,
I cry.
When I see some child with future not well,
I cry.
When I see people getting killed in the name of honor,
I cry.
When I see a girl’s mind filled with horror,
I cry.
When people fight over religion and caste,
I cry.
Basically, when I see something unfortunate,
I cry.

I cry a lot these days.

I also cry,
When I hug my mom after a long time.
I also cry,
When I want the feelings to flow.
I also cry,
When someone helps someone in stress.
I also cry,
When I see hard work paying off success.

I cry a lot these days.

Sometime in worry,
Sometime in joy,
Sometimes in distress,
Sometimes to express,
Sometimes when I feel blessed,
And sometimes because I f*ing want to.

Courage Is To Be Able To Cry.



Story Of My Depression.

The Story Of My Depression.

Will you let me take you on a ride?
It is bumpy as hell…
But I will always look good from that side.
Sometimes I feel fine,
But other times I want to yell.
It is the story of my depression in a nutshell.

Please stay safe and vigilant,
While reading this piece.
Because it might trigger some sentiments,
Which can easily ruin your peace.

It is a tale of that time…
When the world looked colorless,
Everything took a grayish tone,
And I was left with the sins I couldn’t atone.
It was the time…
When my body felt bloodless,
And I helpless.

I wanted to just run away,
Abandon this path to make a new way.
Which, obviously, I was not able to do,
Maybe I didn’t like that view too.

There was this consistent sadness,
Which forbade the emotions to flow.
There too was this sickness,
Which I just couldn’t overthrow.

I was in a windowless cage,
From there I couldn’t get out.
Accumulating all this rage,
That I couldn’t let out.

All my friendships obliterate,
Leaving just a few behind.
Those three lifted some of the weight,
And helped me empty my mind.

Let me tell you one thing guys,
I am not here to advertise.
This is what I felt on the inside;
My hands felt numb and my legs tied.

But I always kept telling myself,
That the hard time will soon pass.
You will again feel like yourself
Just let a person or two trespass.

It might not be the emotion,
Many souls will relate.
Some might understand the impression,
These lines are trying to expatiate.

This is all I am ready to confess,
From the times when I was in the stress.


Thanks For Reading!

Dad and Daughter!!!

A father was talking to his daughter,

“How much do you love papa?”, He asked.

“This Much.” The daughter answered arms outstretched.

That night the father slept in peace.

He now knows someone will be there with him his whole life.

And earlier, He thought that infinity was not measurable…


A Short-Short-Story.



Living the life with one REGRET.


When I first saw her,
I felt something.
She might not be the most good looking one for many,
but I liked her.
People might look at her and think she’s fat,
but I couldn’t see any.
People wanted to stay away from her,
but I wanted to stay close.
I only live with one regret in life…
That I couldn’t say anything to her.
Now I want to forget her,
Because she has found her happiness.
I just want to know one thing.
How should I forget my happiness?



Reading! (A Poem)


You are not reading this by accident
that’s not a mistake
go and thank your teacher
because it is because of her
you are able to
because it was him
who taught this to you
You are not reading by accident.
it is given to you for a purpose
so don’t take it for granted.

P.S. It’s written in 5 minutes. Don’t mind the quality. I am yet to refine, remold and re-write it


The roles I play…

The roles I play…

Oxygen In Carbon-dioxide out

Just a step at a time

1000s of thoughts but no two chime

Faking it most of the time

Left that when I was nine

Always acting my way out.

Too little to handle

Only to see the next morning

No. Not at all

Yeah. Now and then

Barely keeping myself alive

Oh! Yeah. A little day by day



My Dad and My Dreams!

One time my dad and I were talking about life and stuff.

He asked me what I wanted to do in life…

Me: Dad, I want to work for India. I will give civil services exam.
Dad: Okay. Good.
Me: But dad, I have a problem. I heard that it costs so much money. Coaching itself costs around ₹100–150k.
Dad: Don’t worry about the money. You go and study. We’ll manage.
Me: But it’s a lot….
Dad: No more buts. I have one Fixed Deposit. We will break that and get you the required sum.

*I couldn’t say anything after that.*

Our dads know what needs to broken, Dreams or Fixed Deposits.

We just don’t realize the sacrifices they are making to make us a better human.


I got my eyes welled up even writing about that now.

Thanks For Reading!

I remember the times I was bullied.

I remember the times I was bullied.

I remember this one time,
Someone just come,
And stapled my shirt.
He didn’t just stop there,
And then started to blurt.
I remember a few pierced my skin,
Seven-year-old me bled a little.
The words were still the harshest than the pins,
And those were also brutal.
I easily coped with the pain which was corporal,
I couldn’t stop the bleeding he started which was mental.

I remember the other time when I was slapped.
My hands froze and my thinking just stopped.
I remember I was stunned with the blow.
But for fellow classmates, I didn’t put up a show.
I just went out, sat down and cried in my mind…
With the shattered glasses in my hand,
Sitting with the impaired confidence in the sand,
With no one by my side to listen to and to understand.

I remember you calling me freak and dumb,
Because I always used to feel weak and numb.
I remember you calling me stupid and weak,
But I was too scared to speak.

Yes, I was hurt for a while,
Then I started to smile.
Sometimes I struggled to survive,
But I never left hope and stayed alive.

I was beaten, tormented or sometimes teased,
Left with the wounds from all those sufferings,
But you know what I never received,
The apologies from you for doing those things.

Now I don’t want one…
I am serious.
I am done.

I have been thinking lately…

I have been thinking lately…
The journey I have had.
The times which were happy,
And those when I was sad.

The list is in the millions…
Of the roles that I have played.
With the choices, I was given…
And the decisions I have made.

Some were out of fear,
Which I want you to hear.
So that you will never repeat,
And save yourself one defeat.

Some were out of pride,
Their outcomes were satisfied.
But I was still vilified…
Because that’s how people decide.

Some because I was told to…
Actually, those were only a few,
Because deep down I always knew,
That those will never let me grew.

Some out of shame,
Because of the confidence I couldn’t attain.
For those only I am to blame.

Some of them stayed with me,
Either briefly or permanently.
But not a single one I regret…
I think that should be my epithet.

If I were ever given a chance…
I will repeat all those things again,
Because it’s not about the ending,
But the struggle and the pain.
It’s not about the happiness,
It’s about having contentedness.

All of this was about ‘being who you are’…
Without worrying about the scar, you got in the war.

Don’t ever listen to others…

They will never let you believe,
The things you badly want to achieve.

Never ever quench the fire inside of you…
Because that will always make you stand out of the queue.


P.S. Out of all the poetry penned down by me up until now… This one is the closest to my heart.

Jai Hind.

A Butterfly (Zainab)

Last month, a young girl got raped and killed in my neighbor country Pakistan.

I feel terrible.
There had been many similar cases in India as well. All are equally shocking, disturbing and terrifying.

Her name was Zainab. She was not even eight.

I wrote a poem which I want to share:

A Butterfly (Zainab)

Today, I saw a butterfly,
On the top of a garbage heap.
She was not flittering,
Neither was she meandering
She was not even moving.
It looked like she was asleep,
And that sleep was really really deep.

I wanted to ask her,
What she was doing here?
But she could not answer,
as she was lying dead there.

She might have given the answer;
That her dreams were shattered,
When a brute laid eyes on her.
That same wolf brutally raped her,

What happened to her was horrifying,
She must have been crying,
when she was dying.
For her, that had been a long night,
She must have screamed that it wasn’t right.

Maybe she was also praying,
to her god, to her Allah,
She must have begged for help,
The help which she never got.

Today, I am ashamed of being a human,
Because of the acts of men like that demon.
Who don’t even think before bleaching a rainbow,
Because their ego is too big,
To understand a simple word ‘NO’

I am quite sure…
That a little humanity died along with her.
Reading this story filled with tremor,
Many butterflies will tremble and shiver.
They will refuse the metamorphosis.
And will always want to stay as a caterpillar.

We need to Wake up and Speak up against these atrocities.

Justice for Zainab.

Justice for every girl brutally raped.


I want to touch million hearts with my writings and actions. I always write with that goal in my mind.


Zainab, Nirbhaya and girls like Gudia will always be in our hearts.

Forever and Ever.


The feelings I used to have…

When I used to look into the mirror a while back I used to see something dying inside of me. 

What I felt:

  • I felt like running away.
  • I felt like I couldn’t do anything. That I was not in control of anything happening around.
  • The world became colorless. There was a grey tone to everything.
  • Even in groups, I would be sitting there but not actually be there…
  • I would be fake laughing (which I have mastered) without knowing what is the point or why are they laughing?
  • There was a sickness I couldn’t get rid of.
  • I felt like I was going through an emotional drought.
  • There was an emptiness inside of me.

Image Source: AJGIEL


… some way in the middle of last year I told myself that enough was enough!

  • I took charge of the situation with the help of some ‘dear’ friends.
  • I started doing stuff.
  • I started meditating.
  • I started reading.
  • I started laughing and sometimes crying.
  • I slept more. Traveled a little.

And here I am…

Still Surviving.

Image Source: Razurichan

Oh! It felt so good.

Just venting out the feelings for the world.