Doesn't taste good? Fry the thing In hot oil If it still tastes bad Add some cheese And set it to broil.
(I found this poem when I was flipping through my journal. I had completely forgotten about it. It is not often that I like an old poem. Because I did not flinch while I read this one, I decided to post it here. That does not imply that this is my best poem so far. It … Continue reading Post 28: On Waking Up – A Poem
(This is Perspective, a poem I wrote while I sat by the window watching the traffic outside. It may not be much of a poem; let's call it deconstructed prose. I am not very happy with how it turned out. It sounded much better in my head, like most poems. I liked the idea, so I … Continue reading Post 27 – Perspective
I smiled at my reflection In the side mirror Of our car. The girl in the mirror Did not return the smile She seemed lost With lips, Reluctant to curve upwards. I glanced away looking At others in their cars Some passing by, Others we left behind Each one forlorn And lost Eyes on the road … Continue reading Post #16 – On The Freeway (Poem)
I thought of writing a poem today. But I am not very good at writing poems on demand. It is usually solitude and melancholy that inspires me to write poems. When the words flow, they really flow. But on days like today, words are hard to find. Yet, I tried. Here is my poem for … Continue reading Post #9: Foot in Mouth – A poem
In order to live life To the fullest We go in search Of people and places Comparing scenes from our lives To ideals in sitcoms, social media. At every juncture We shake out heads "This was not the scene". Unsatisfied we continue Our search For it all never matches Our life not full enough Forgetting … Continue reading A Full Life
The thought creeps into my head The thought of you Leaving on your trip, Leaving me behind. I resist, I resist, The thought in my head For now is not the time to fret. But the day will be here And soon you will leave And I will be left Alone for a week. I … Continue reading I will miss you here
I am My childhood The experiences The people The books The school. I am My hometown The culture The festivals The wildlife And society. I am The composite Of all that I read, Saw heard and learnt. I am The sum Of all these years.
What I really want to do Is pour my heart out Here On this blog. Write what I feel like And write it all Complete and true Without thought or worry But it isn't so easy Our minds after all Are the ones that belong completely And truly to oneself What goes on inside Is what sets … Continue reading Vulnerable
If I could get one What would it be? That one tattoo which will define me? An angel, a butterfly? Cliched, overdone. Something different, unique Something... most definitely me. A scripture maybe One that I have no clue about? Sanskrit verses are so yesterday Something in Azerbaijani? Or maybe his name and mine with hearts? … Continue reading Getting inked
Hey little bird Sitting on our fence What do you wonder When you look at the mess. Leaves un-raked And un-dusted goods. Do you disapprovingly Shake your tiny head at us? Or do you not care Like the two of us The mess in our patio Is hardly of concern. There are, after all, Bigger … Continue reading Bird on the Fence
Stay with me today We don't have to talk Or do anything together You do your work and I will do mine. I don't want your company Yet I want you here In the house With me Not by my side But here Within these same walls. You can be quiet and pay me no … Continue reading Work. From Home
I try to give words To the sounds I hear At this beach. My vocabulary It fails me. How do I describe the continuous rumble Of approaching waves the sound of rising water Falling against water The higher the wave the louder the sound Tiny waves with their plop Waves against rocks Waves against sound … Continue reading Beach
His voice Like a lullaby Slow, soft Monotonous. I try, I really do. I try To stay focused On the words of his song That endless lullaby. But my mind It sways Like a swing. Slow at first Then picking up pace Here, there This and that Till I have been transported Elsewhere. Abruptly I … Continue reading Thursday Class: 6PM
7AM Driving through the fog I try to capture it But the beauty always escapes The camera lens And reaches my eyes. The camera only sees trees And mountains My eyes: they see everything. Mountains resting under a green carpet Yellow patches here and there Like the sun is gently prodding the mountains awake The … Continue reading 7AM