Fresh Page

Every page I turn

Is ripped, torn, or burnt.

Every page I turn

Has nothing new to learn.

The sharp edges

Cut my fingers.

Just a drop of blood

On the destroyed page.

I’m sick of this,

My book of memories.

I’m sick of this,

Want to turn over a new leaf.

And all I have to do

Is gather some courage

To turn over a

Fresh page.

For Poetry 101 Rehab: Decisions


Birth Of India

A country born

From the Earth

Watered with blood.

A country born

Out of sweat, toil,

Pain and bloodshed.

A country born

Out of partitions

On communal lines.

A country born

Out of divisions

Of caste and creed.

A country born

After killing thousands

Of innocent souls.

The price of freedom is costly…

For Poetry 101 Rehab


Scattered sheets of paper,

Piled up on the desk in a mess,

Speeding hands working,

Agitated and restless.

The clock is ticking,

Submission is nearing.

Work is increasing,

Time is decreasing.

Quick, fast and rushed,

Thoughts click together,

But alas! It is too late,

Because the deadline is over!

Dedicated to the memory of all the poor souls who are working hard to reach their deadline. Wait, did I just say “memory”???

Inspired by Poetry 101 Rehab.


3 Days 3 Quotes: Day 3

Onward to Day Three!



No matter how rich you become, how famous or powerful, when you die, the size of your funeral still pretty much depends on the weather.

– Michael Pritchard

And we are insignificant when compared to the world as whole.

Today’s nominee are:

  1. It’s PH
  2. Beautiful Insanity
  3. Cup And Chaucer

What is YOUR favourite quote? Do let me know the comment section below!


Dimming eyes,

Sweet lullabies,

As you enter the world of intoxicating dreams.

Where happiness is free,

And you are there with me,

Away from this world of fear and cowardice.

Dimming eyes,

Harsh, loud cries,

As you enter the cold world of death.

Which is dark and unknown,

But you are not alone,

Because I’ll be always by your side.

So we journey onward together,

While the world wishes us:

“Good night, sleep tight.”

As a sleepy slow response to Poetry 101 Rehab – Sleep.

Two Minutes of Silence

I celebrated my birthday two weeks back, and this is the “birthday resolution” I took: to maintain two minutes of silence every single day.

Okay, I admit, this sounds stupid. Why on Earth would I do anything like that? I love chattering like a monkey, and the only time I ever shut up is when I sleep. Even then, I sometimes laugh in my sleep. Embarrassing.

No, I’m not trying to curb an addiction, I can remain silent when I wish too. Plus, talking is one of my greatest skills, as I can melt even hearts of iron with sweet, buttery, flattery.

I was influenced to keep two minutes of silence by Philip Hughes, the Australian cricketer ( who died on 27/11 after getting struck by a bouncer bowled by Sean Abbot) and the seventh anniversary of the 26/11 attacks.

That set me thinking. There are millions of people who die everyday-whether due to terror attacks, accidents, or just a plain old natural death. Even terrorists have families: families they love and care for.

Whatever the case may be, every soul which has entered the other world deserves respect and remembrance. There may not be anybody left for them, so, I keep two minutes of silence for them, praying for them, and praying for the good of the world.

However big or small, each soul needs two minutes of silence. And that’s what I can do. Maintain two minutes of silence. Two minutes of love, respect, prayers, and hope for them and the world.

I would like to end with this poem:

I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead. He is just away.
With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand,
He has wandered into an unknown land
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.
And you—oh you, who the wildest yearn
For an old-time step, and the glad return,
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here.
Think of him still as the same. I say,
He is not dead—he is just away.”
James Whitcomb Riley