Flip,flop and fling

She slipped a coin out of her bag ,with a cluttering emotions on her face,I can see the jagged lines which run across the forehead and the clutched lips which had many untold stories of horror to be shared.

With forced smile towards me she flipped the coin with her crippled fingers that drip sorrows of her life.

I plunged on to the coin with a mischievous grin unknown of the fact that the coin is camouflage with some answers and hopes of getting heads or tails.

I always use to watch her flip a coin when she is stuck between brain and heart. I have realised that when you are confused flip a coin because while the coin is in air you realize which one your hoping for.

Either sides define the truth or Denial but the third side defines our hope.she always clinged for the hope ,other sides didn catch her conflicts.

She used to place her warm fingers over the surface of cold edged silver coin with thousands of thoughts flipping across her embryo.

Dragging the coin over the table surface

I listen to indefinable screech ,waiting for the coin to flip and the series of tunes following the flinging of coin made me more happy than ever.

She was never built on distress but had a flame of fire in her eyes which can overcome all her fears. Her wrinkled face pronounced her journey of stress and betrayel ,her drooping eyelids have witnessed strong battles.

Still, in memory of her injuries she flips a coin from her treasury like a obsession ,hoping to debate with possibilities giving it an everlasting spin.



I am barred in my soul ,chords of compassion wants to fly high but cliped inside your depth

I breath beneath your skin but clogged under your sacrifice.

I fly ,i stretch my wings now ,but caged inside your Waterlog like a string of tears.

I dissolve in your pain but freezed in your glass of illuminiries.

I guard my heart under your rib cage it sings your lullabies.

I Let you be my key that preys my cage into salvation.

Goddess of spring

I will be persephone to your hade

I will be a hope to your despire

Be that light to your cracked and dejected soul

I will swallow your dark blood and drip it through my veins like words

I am drenched in your Waterlog and pulled like cods that needed to fly in dark hellfire

I am the ultimate queen of Underworld

I know the earth, but refuse to destroy my sinners.

Persephone is a voice in herself who shreds in darkness but has a Peirced outlook towards her passion.

I was told…..

“I was told to be conservative ,but I wanted to be bold enough to face the world with a wicked smile”.

From a south Indian origin to being born nd brought up in pune a middle class suburban city. I was always pressurized by the patrichal society to cover the flaws of being a girl. Keralait by origin brought up with many cramps which framed me up for being too fair,no typical looks I carry of an south Indian.

At the age of 5 ,I was told to play with soft cotton toys and kitchen sets that would make me look like a sweet girl who loved pink and eat cotton candies. But the muddy legs puddled in dirt and messy hairs made me a stubborn kid with hippie attitude.

The girl on high school catastrophe struggling with teenage hormones with abnoxious questions and bohonomous nature was told to be reserved because that makes me look elegance.

Over restricted for the talk with opposite gender will make you a slut,was one of the highlighted memories of my teenage stereo.

My tiffin chats always turned out to be a idli sambar Mocker session unknown of the fact I was hiding butter stuffed parathas with a smirky smile.

The Loud and flashy girl ,bit gutsy attitude with a blond golden hair gave me labels for not acknowledging my culture at my 20s.

I was told to be constrained in the society were I was brought up, But the power and passion is like a umbilical cord connected to our destiny. The bossy and boisterous nature gave me labels of tom boyish attitude ,but I choosed to slip in my own nature to preserve my identity.

Academic stereos portrayed other degrees as an legacy to bag up green cash in bank lockers ,which had no space for my vision as an aspiring career for girls.

I was told it’s not safe, I was told no money no oppurtunity. Held in clutches of “I was told ” I freed myself from all these complex society ,were I found my world in legal delicacies.

I was told by the society to to drape six yards of elegance with mirror jerries pleated cover the inelegance, but I choose those mirror jerries as a respect for my culture.

Big glasses ,almond eyes and boisterous nature says “you write” “must have copied” “you don’t look a writer” these labels seeped inside my veins and I drip words whenever I refuse to hold my pen.

“I was never told to fight for criticism but to accept their perception and restrict our dreams.

In a world were thousands of thoughts are plagued by orthodox thinkers and conservative stories, I choose to be myself first were my language is not judged by a cup of payasam.

We are stabbed with steroids were firm visions raise many brows but opening a long exit doors to these filth of mediocre traditions will give labels to your origin and roots.

I choose to walk away from such social thinkers were you can inspire thousand stories.

Blooming thoughts

“Like a flower my hopes bloom”My heart beams these words when ever I scroll into my garden.

Brains are buzzing with the radiating thoughts which I hv gathered through out my blooming years.

It’s 12:40 almost afternoon, I am all decked in the chair zooming outside the busy streets, where the world never stops, but our imagination do stop. My heart has turned slight indigo like a dark hole of skeptisim but still a warrior child in me challenges me and questions the ways of world.

The nepotism has brought the fragrance of self catering my needs which is built on suspect. Like a lotus I have the ability to rise from the mud, bloom out of darkness and radiate into the world.

I trust in my light and believe in beginnings .strong negative thoughts don’t choke me anymore

I accept finite disappoint but never loose infinite hope. You exist, only when you have the ability to overcome your disasters. Hope survives where you have a vision to gain all your dreams.

This hot set of afternoon have brought blooming thoughts in my embryo. I am back to my space, I set my manual for my life were busy streets don’t scare me,others achievement won’t stop me and my determination will be stable as a tree that is strong enough to withstand a strome and wise enough to grow with all its mighty.


Your reflection in the mirror can only be stopped, not you

Start believing in your realities and take lessons from your true reflection.

Don’t live in a blind spot of your reflection,

It’s only illuminiries with bitter realities.

Reflect your dreams with your realities

Make a different choice

Zoom your life in a self reflecting mode.

Letter to little fighter

“Hey little fighter soon things will be brighter” I always wanted to articulate these words to you, but my intentions never equalised your picture.

Life’s toughest challenges were targeted by your anchors.you were a strong women who held up high ready to face the fire with a cunning smile.

You never avoided your bruises, it was collecting your scars and proving it to the world that you survived.

Now, I notice a glimpse of women who is broken but hiding it behind a beautiful smile,making your strong look more invincible.

You walked with a universe on your shoulders and made it look like a pair of wings. Celebrate your strenght and look straight into the world.

Now, I realise why stroms are name after people. Master your strome ,be a fighter who has a courage to capture the obstacles.you have the power in you to stand out against all the pain.

“Hell has gone through you”but no one can touch a women who wears the pain like a grandest diamond around your neck.

You are the architect of my imaginations stay strong don’t make kindness as your weakness.

Half of the me consist you,and half of you consist me ‘I am never away’. Just look deep inside you I reflect there.

Win thousands of battles with your brave heart ,spark inside you can fire which can burn entire praire.

Women who has framed her adamant soul,dangers never fright you and no demons can tire you.

You are a wild wicked slip who burned too high for world.

You consist of spirituality and maturity like a blend in my veins you just need to recognize a new power within you.

Weave your body with a style and a spoon of strength ,were no weapons no disease can wound you.

Believe in your strenght were you can change the perception of your growth around people.

Above all, be a heroine of your life and don’t be a victim of your own soul.