Peeled Skin

Layer after layer,
skin everywhere
peeled from one another.

As the layers are gone
so are the burdens with it.
Everything’s lighter now.

The peeling, indeed tough,
but the result much better.


I identify myself as an introvert. Much of my life I believed I couldn’t walk up and strike a conversation with anyone. Why would anyone ever want to listen to my awkward words. So I stayed put. It harmed me most of all. I closed myself to opportunities and ideas that could not just interest me but enchant me. I’m thankful the jobs I’ve taken up somehow requires me to break the barrier by peeling my own skin. Painful it was and it still is, but I enjoy it better. I know how wonderful things can be. I look on the brighter side now. 

C-O-N-G-R-A-T-U-L-A-T-I-O-N-S | A Poem

Your finger tips know
very well to scroll up and down,
tap right and right
and only right.

Oh! something appears:
Started School at XYZ.
Type congratulations!
Type it now,
because this post won’t appear later.
15 seconds and it will be gone
in the oceans of algorithms.
You’ll look mean and
rude and jealous,
so type fast, C-O-N-G-R-A-T-U-L-A-T-I-O-N-S!

A big glass of juice,
chocos dipped in milk,
because you love chocolate,
and yet you can’t let go of
the sight of the screen.

Let’s see:
Started Job At The Best Company In The
Whole Wide World.
Fast type: congratulations
because you do not mean to be rude,
even if your accounts have run dry,
this is not the time to
question the unconventional path
you’ve decided to walk on.

Type, type.
Because you are indeed proud of
that someone,
and wish nothing but
great things for the other.

Yet, you cannot stop wondering,
if the roads ahead
amount to anything.

Lying on the bed
close to mid-night,
the scrolling game in dim light.
The tech lights
might damage your sight,
but wait:
Engaged to DEF!
Fast, type: Congratulations,
even if you know this post will pop again,
type it fast.
Now’s not the time to worry about
your broken heart, your insecure mind
that tells you you’ve been doing something wrong
by being all by yourself
all this time.
Type: C-O-N-G-R-A-T-U-L-A-T-I-O-N-S!
Congratulations.

You do not mean ill will,
you do not mean disaster,
you are not the sour devil.
Even if you have to think twice
to type
congratulations!

Dried up appetites,
surviving on self doubts,
where do we belong?

Wait:
A proud father?
You look at yourself,
your body so fragile
unable to complete
what you’ve started
how and when will you ever think of a child?
Still type: Congratulations! 

Type type,
don’t be such a miser!
Wish a wish,
maybe it’ll come back to you.

Here’s a better idea:
let’s get out of this myopia.
Throw away the screen
and silence the voices in your head,
that tell you
you are not enough. 

Listen. Do not see.
Just listen.
You are E-N-O-U-G-H. 

Now write to yourself:
CONGRATULATIONS!


For everyone who feels everybody knows the path but yourself: No one does. No one. 
Pink Floyd was right:

“We’re just two lost souls
Swimming in a fish bowl
Year after year”

Feet | Poetry

My feet run
only as long as
day light remains.

They run fast and
they are hard,
strong as steel,
made of the finest iron,
one of those things
that are really real.

They’ve crossed mountains
and streams
and valleys
of all kinds.
They’ve conquered kingdoms
and knights
and weapons
known to humankind.

But when night falls
and the lights run out,
they cripple,
devoid of it’s origins.

They run
to somewhere
where no demon should
reach, else it be consumed.

They do not have strength
in them,
it’s been sucked out.

It’s like drowning
in deep waters,
with your foot tied to an anchor.

Lend me a hand,
will you?
Because I cannot escape it alone.

Neither can you.

Tomato Cheese Bread | A Poem

If only everything were as
simple as tomato cheese
placed on a bead,
in one piece.

Heat it up,
add pepper and salt.
Microwave you sassy ones.
Rest just eat.

Doesn’t matter if it’s salty
or burnt in bits,
its tomato and cheese!
No complains.

If only everything were as
simple as tomato and cheese,
no matter what you’d always believe
you’d be happy
at its sight.
Tomato cheese and bread.


I was starving at tea time and made myself some easy stuff to eat. My go to stuff, tomato cheese and bread. That’s when I began thinking only if everything were as simple as that; your favorite food. You’d always be happy, even if it didn’t turn out to be as expected, partly because you are hungry, partly because it is your favorite.