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On a monsoon morning, around 10:30 AM,  I heard the gentle pitter patter of the rain hitting against the surface of the car,  I peered out the window,  A woman in a sari with white flowers in her hair, looked towards her left before crossing the road,  The man with white hair sat at the bus stop on his phone,  And the young boy sat  right next to him,  The auto with ‘Om’ written on the yellow hood,  An orange, red and green bus parked in random sequence,  A fruit-seller ridin

i breathe in this suffocation,  and with it, i yearn for more, the air in this house is suffocated,  it is reused but not reborn,  like a middle aged man,  this air is tired of being around for so long  the air in this house is exhausted,  this water is still and untouched,  i am this air: in its stillness, i dissolve,  with it, I reek of dread  i reek of exhaustion i reek of monotony; beige and tired,  the air in this house is exhausted.

The plane is on autopilot,  The passengers a screaming,  The sky, a hazy yellow,  The plane is on autopilot Food is poison Passengers are screaming,  Airhostesses are unresponsive  The plane on autopilot,  Vomit stained walls and panic driven passengers,  The seatbelt sign beats,  Frantic last voicemail’s,  Recorded yet undelivered,  The plane is on autopilot,  Preparing for the unseen,  Emergency light is on,  In its dimness, the passengers are no longer screaming,  Secured

i live in the city of polluted waters,  in the age of recklessness,  underage drinking and glamorized destruction,  unforeseen...

this app in my phone is like no other, it’s a notebook, endless with stories incomplete with aggressively typed grocery lists, reminders,...

the day before it’s over,  a small pocket of comfortable, numb silence,  a pocket no thought can reach,  a pocket where every voiced is hushed,  a small library,  but there are no books, no stories,  there’s silence, and that’s enough,  death is a day away,  tomorrow, no longer will it be so loud,  tomorrow, this library of comfort will engulf us all, tomorrow, there will be no more war, no more people, tomorrow, there will be no more politics and no more anger, no longer hav

purple is the rain at dawn after a long day, it’s the quiet but overwhelmingly present piano notes echoing through the room,  spontaneous accidentals,  the indifference, the odd purple is ancient royalty,  it’s the blooming flowers on a sunday morning in the field of nothingness,  the subtle eye contact,  a mac demarco song, it’s the scars on the perfect porcelain paper skin, the innocent touch - manipulative, purple are the fresh haircuts and the blurry smiles, the box ruste

On nights like these, I am made aware of how adored I am, I come from a family where the sweetest fruit is always saved for me, Where my...

amidst the chaos and loud voices,  hides peace within a socket of a spring night,  the peace encapsulates me, devours, at first, it feels perfect, the flickering lightbulbs, the curtains fluttering from the faint blowing of the wind,  i take a breath in,  releasing the ache in my back as i breathe out,  this ache disperses throughout my being,   relieved, then suddenly, with a sudden, strong surge, with blowing winds come our memories, forgotten, the echoes of laughter, the s

one deep breath in, fall. slow exhale, my heart expanding throughout my body, vibrations that shake my core, my heart grows bigger,...

Monday: 1 worksheet on quadratic sequences, 1 task, simple enough, I can do it tomorrow, I stare into the gleaming screen of my phone, It memorizes me with a glimpse of strain in a specific spot in my eye, I stare unfazed, As my mind goes blank, forgetting all to be done and all at steak. It started with on task, A singular worksheet with 10 questions, Suddenly, It’s Wednesday, Tuesday: Missing, Nobody seemed to care, Life went on, Wednesday: 1 worksheet on quadratic sequence

anger is scary, it takes you over like a wave, evil, It disguises, the unknown is scary, the first time, you can shake it off, forget about it, you're okay, the second time, you slam the door, turn to the blade, then you feel okay, the third time is when it really starts to hit, it drowns you, takes you down - like a wave and then suddenly, you can’t swallow, there’s a lump in your throat, then you suffocate within, just like your lungs underwater, your brain, explodes, your

i was walking around my society when i came across an ongoing karate class, i noticed two underprivileged children staring at the same which inspired me to write this poem. ________________________________________________________________________________ “thump, thump” with each kick, the target made of soft cushioning stayed stable, the children, young, around 5, kicked with all their might, like a rock, standing still, even after the ruthless backlash, of the raging ocean, i

I wrote this poem around 2am when I was really missing my friends back in Dubai. ________________________________________________________...

Special thanks to Ms. Lekha (my English teacher) for helping myself and Archit write this poem. Siddhi: Stereotypes, equality, genders -...

The balloons mentioned in the poem are a metaphor for people. It talks about the fears I care of being judged by people....

The following poems are an insight on the ongoings of a Toxic, Abusive and Manipulative relationship. This poem was inspired from a...

The following poems are an insight on the ongoings of a Toxic, Abusive and Manipulative relationship. This poem was inspired from a...

The following poem is from the perspective of a person who is being stalked and constantly being watched with no escape....

This poem is a tribute to those going through mental disorders and identity crisis. _____________________________________________________...