Perfect Better Halves

via Daily Prompt: Detonate


The mighty Phoebus galloped along the edges of the mountain

Tracing the silhouette stark of his valorous army

Deployed him on a sturdy pinnacle.

His golden cloak fluttered in ablaze behind.


His shimmering sword slayed every eye that lifted to raise a question

Ensuring every eye lid fluttered in concurred.

Every pawn around had a stealthy shadow that traced their path

To guard the loyalty of every being towards his reign.

He encircled terrain all day armoured as hawk,

Until he ebbed away for his alluring queen.


She alighted into arena in her silver glow with

Pitch black royal cape embellished with topaz beads.

They smudged into one another, Colouring in each other’s hues that detonate,

Giving away to one another, yet being distinct about ones identity

In a total moment of submission, owning each other

They kissed goodbye in the prepossessing twilight.

Lord made his way for the beauteous lady regnant to her fullest self,

Until the role reversal transpire in the dawn.

They were the perfect better halves ever to be known.


Liebster Award


I am very thankful to, who has nominated me for this award. I appreciate his gesture and suggest everyone to visit his blog.He is an emerging blogger and has some interesting posts in his blog.

The rules of this award:
1. Acknowledge the blog who nominated you and display the award.
2. Answer the 11 questions the blogger gives you.
3. Give 11 random facts about yourself.
4. Nominate 11 blogs.
5. Notify those blogs of the nomination.
6. Give them 11 questions to answer

11 Questions posed upon me by Shubham

  1. Your source of inspiration?

     Nature, anything that  strike  my thought .

  1. Which is the place that you desperately want to visit?


  1. What is your first wish that you will fulfill upon becoming a millionaire?

       Something for underprivileged kids, World tour (for me)

  1. Your most memorable birthday?

      All childhood birthdays

  1. Which is the first name that comes to your mind when i say ‘Music’?

      Michael Jackson

  1. What would you prefer? A trip abroad all alone or a weekend at home with friends?

       Trip abroad all alone because the other i have experienced

  1. Any collection that you are proud of possessing or the one you would like to possess?

       Would like to own A collection of books written by me 😛

  1. What are your plans of a perfect weekend?

      Outing with dear ones and good food

  1. According to you, which is the most irritating task of your daily routine?

      The stagnancy in life

  1. As a kid, which was your favourite TV show?

     Nothing as a kid maybe FRIENDS once I grew up

  1. What can make your anger rise instantly? Can you keep a check on your anger? times I cannot keep a check on my anger

Now, the 11 random facts about me are:

  1. Enjoy Meaningful conversations and humor
  2. Not a great singer but enjoy music
  3. Like reading books ,mainly fiction
  4. People approach me with their problems because I am good listener and is not very judgmental
  5. I do over-think
  6. Fakeness and hypocrisy irks me
  7. Nature lover
  8. would like to have a more positive outlook
  9. Wish to learn a musical  instrument
  10. Like trying new food items and restaurant
  11. Generally appreciate people and sentiments

I would like to nominate the following people:


    Questions for the nominees:

    1. How you started blogging?
    2. What inspires you to write?
    3. One thing you like about yourself?
    4. Something you wish to change in yourself?
    5. Your favourite music artist?
    6. What do you do to elevate your spirit on a low day?
    7. A book that struck a code in you and would like to suggest? Why?
    8. A destination you would like to visit
    9. All time favourite movie
    10. Your perfect weekend plan?
    11. one thing you wish to do once you  become a millionaire?

It was fun ..Thank you for nomination   .

I am also thankful to :

for nominating me as well  .Thank you 🙂

Unraveling Poetry


My last two posts coincidentally have been poems. (Let me tell you I am not an expert on poems or sonnets or technicalities but just someone who enjoy reading and writing it).

I have a set of friends who always give feedback on my write-ups  and I was surprised at the reaction of most of them when  I referred  a poem for their opinion.

They are like “I’m not into poems”, “poem is not my cup of tea”.

They were so reluctant to indulge in poems. It’s like some extravaganza.

 I was taken aback at their apprehension about this genre, “But how can you miss out on this unique worldly pleasure” was my doubt.

It leads me to think why poems or sonnets or that form of writing is different and not every ones cup of tea.This post is you can say, a kind of soliloquy connected to it.

Poems are a kind of weed…its intoxicating .The unknown pleasure of savoring each word in it, the joy of unraveling each layer of hidden thoughts in every line needs to be experienced and can’t be explained. When you hear the lines of Lord Byron  like:

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes .

You can do nothing but fall in the trance of that beauty.

Poems are like sarcasm …if you don’t get the crux behind, it seems to be unappealing and can be even annoying. You just need to have that interest to pick the nuances and deciphering the clues and metaphors which writer has left silently behind. (In short one should have that Sherlock home’s instinct). You just cannot miss a beat.

 In Sylvia Plath poem Metaphor where she states “I’m a riddle in nine syllables” which she follows by seemingly unrelated metaphors  to elephant, a ponderous house, and loaf’s big with its yeasty rising actually refers to her stages of pregnancy.

and when she ends it like:

I’ve eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there’s no getting off.

It actually makes you ponder what her state of mind is, was she indicating about this irrevocable journey of hers as a new beginning or her indecisiveness to stepping into motherhood. That ambiguity actually gives reader the space to participate and get involved in the creative process of writer through ones imagination.

 Poems have potential to hold volumes in few simple lines. Truly it reiterates the fact brevity is the soul of wit. The three lines by Robert Frost below manages to express a complicated doctrine.

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Freedom of interpretation: The most attractive as well as the tricky dimension about poem is the degree of freedom of interpretations.

The unknown uff! or wow! That spurts when you read  a line impregnated with meaning and soul is truly a pleasure. Leaving with few such lines of William Shakespeare in Sonnet 116 which left me in awe.

 Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Let me not to the marriage of true minds 

Admit impediments. Love is not love 

Which alters when it alteration finds, 

Or bends with the remover to remove. 

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark 

That looks on tempests and is never shaken; 

It is the star to every wand’ring bark, 

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken. 

Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 

Within his bending sickle’s compass come; 

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, 

But bears it out even to the edge of doom. 

If this be error and upon me prov’d, 

I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.

Breakup over a coffee

The coffee brewed as their souls smoldered .

The rain drops beyond the window eavesdropped and passed by as they were fed with nothing but silence.

Duo sat across the table trying to read each other and holding volumes to divvy,

But all the clogged emotions ended,

in his sigh and in her aborted tears.


They reminisced as they were in a moment together after long

how their preferences bifurcated ….

He choose to chase the moon for her, but failed to reckon the glow of her eyes.

While She trailed behind yearning for his silent holds in moon lit night.

As the turmoils of reality snipped her fairy tale

She felt like the detached kite,

disowned by the string which she believed to belong.

Nor being a part of the sky which she presumed to own.


None wished to wrong the other,

But they couldn’t see their love being throttled and  decided to free it .

“So this is it” he said as they parted on a coffee.

And the “please stay” he wrote with spilled drops gleamed as they walked away

The incest of Gulmohar

Morning streak swept past ,

The lanes ahead embellished with her adorns

had a secret tale to unfold .

Trail of the night prior, they behold.

Night before, hummer breeze rose like a valorous knight

Kneeled past her seeking sanction to woo,

To which she rustled her leaves like laughs of gentle tease.

As though she was more than pleased.

The woods around jolted at their display of affection.

The flurry was like the hush of tattlers,

Who witnessed a new piece of news to trade .

The clouds pulled the veil and dimmed the light

She danced along and shied, to bait.

Every time he tried to whisper or whisks her hair

She glided past letting the breeze past abreast.

Dodging all attempts to clench

And putting his efforts in vain.

She showed tantrums like implausible

muffled and flirted with the raindrops ,

They played along and swayed along.

Unaware of charade, envied wind hustled them so hard

Till every drop of rain slid away.

The mellow hummers set the perfect undertone

For all the emotions and passion to swirl along.

Finally he made a passionate whirl to the waltz,

Ruffled her and swept her off the buds.

As she lay on lane beneath with undisclosed love

The whole wild wood tattled about the incest of gulmohar.

Frida and her Mind Readers

via Daily Prompt: Cranky

Frida kept secrets from herself …Each time an urge or desire crawled up her mind she pretended to be not interested . Wonder why? Because she believed that, if her heart longed for something the entire universe conspired against it from materializing in her life. Frida considered herself unlucky and her desires as a hindrance to her goals.

“Sometimes I feel there are spies suppressed in my heart … They rebel stealthily as if they hold me responsible for their oppression.

They crawl out at nights .When heat of my thoughts smolder them they stealthily wriggle out and acquire their mighty form and conspire against me. Conspire against me with nature and my destiny…They are the mind readers….They read my mind  .

They whisper …I don’t hear their voices, but I feel them. My intuitions warn me. Whenever I plan something…They conspire and topple my plans.”    : Frida believed.

So she devised an easy way to escape her fears. She despised her feelings , and started treating her thought and mind as two mutually intangible separate entities. She tried to fortify her dreams by keeping her desires elusive .

Frida was not like this always. In her growing years she was a bubbly kid. She had tinkling hazel eyes and her hair locks bounced with vigor in the little ponytail her mom made as she hopped through her neighborhood in her colorful frocks.

All this started in high school. Frida was popular in her school for her painting skills. As a kid whenever she saw those sparkling trophies in principal’s shelf she dreamed to hold one of it amidst an applauding school assembly some day. Finally in eighth grade her name was suggested for Inter school painting fest . Frida was  excited that she got the much awaited chance to fulfill her long lasting dream. She even broke her piggy bank to get a new set of water color.

 “I am sure to win this one, papa “ she promised; but things didn’t materialise as little Frida planned.

She got injured while playing with Tom her neighbor’s Lab, and couldn’t attend the fest. She shed tears for a week after seeing her friends applauding the winner in assembly.

Everybody including teacher consoled her : “it was just misfortune” and advised to try next year.

That next time never happened. It was either some illness or miss happening; she could never attend the fest even in the following years .Each year she became more dejected and the phrase “unlucky “ got stuck in her head.

That was the first instance when she felt that sinking melancholy. From then it was  a trail of such events .Even though she was best in class she never got admission in the college of her choice nor did she end up in the kind of job she desired. She always had this feeling of unfulfillment even when she was doing well and always felt things happened not according to her preferences and choice.

As she grew her believes resized itself too. Frida was rarely impressed by men. After years of plodding life ,she felt little jaunty after meeting Thomas her new colleague. She started to develop fondness for him and his witty ways. Thomas was a tall, dark man with chiseled face and good humor .Her happiness grew in leaps and bounds when he invited her to join him New Year dinner. Just when they were about to head for the restaurant Thomas realized his car Tyre was flat and had to drop their plan. That was when Kate happened to hope in from nowhere. Kate was her college mate, quintessential beauty with brain.

“Thomas, this is Kate my college friend ” Frida introduced her.

Their rendezvous ended up as a friendly chat among three friends than a date.

Thomas even took initiatives in organizing few more meeting between three of them .  Frida felt gleeful as Thomas continued to impress her each time with his charms.

Her happiness didn’t last  long . After few months Frida found Kate and Thomas in a mall shopping together holding hands. Frida couldn’t stop blaming herself for the strange line up of coincidence that toppled “her share of luck”.

This incident kind of reinstated her belief.  A strange fear started to consume her that her feelings will turn as a curse to her dreams.  She was scared to dream…it was like someone secretly was spying on her mind. Frida constantly tried to push back all her qualms from appearing on her mind frame while she secretly urged to fulfill her dreams . She tried to detach from her feelings.  As time passed she became a master in disguise …disguise of her feelings.

She became totally reclusive from the world and cranky, withdrawn from hopes in life.

Life rolled on. It was one of those usual mornings when she was trying to gather herself in bed, when her mobile rang and screen displayed an unknown number. Usually she avoided calls especially from known numbers, but since she had just ordered food she picked up the call. Contrary to her expectation the call was from Medical center a hospital near to her apartment and the lady informed there was an emergency and asked her to reach hospital immediately. The five minutes seemed never so long before and her mind had already imagined several permutation combinations of worst scenario possibilities. She parked her car and ran to the reception with heavy breath where a young nurse with thick framed spectacles finally informed that Kate was admitted in the hospital after having a bad fight with Thomas. Frida realised that Kate had called her in the morning for an advocate’s number and the hospital had dialed up the last number on her call list.

Frida supplied the prescribed medicine and was waiting outside the room. She couldn’t but mock at the irony;

“See destiny tried too hard to spoil my plan, they were never meant to be”.

As she was blaming her mind readers again, Ryan a little boy came running towards her. Ryan was lean boy, tall for his age with trimmed hair and a divine smile .They exchanged a friendly banter over his ball when a lady came running after him.

Frida tapped the boy’s cheek and said “he is a cute smart boy, why is he here? Who is not well?” .

The lady’s face dimmed and she said “Ryan is the patient; he is diagnosed with a heart disease”.  Even though Frida met Ryan for the first time his energy and vibe was so contagious that she felt her heart was sinking.

Seeing Frida worried Ryan ran towards her, hugged and said “Don’t worry I am lucky it is just the initial stage and doctor uncle said it can be cured”.

That hug actually shook her too hard she felt like liberated from those shackles that had captivated her for so long. She embraced and scooped him up in her hands as tears tickled down her face. Ryan wiped her tears with his tiny hands and pecked her forehead.

Frida thought “Look at that boy he was going through so much but yet he kept his hope kindled and more than anything enjoyed his life”.

She felt like the cage in her head just released all those captives up there, but more than anyone else she felt liberated from her cranky self. That little boy just managed to change her perspective. Few minutes ago she was spiteful but now she felt sorry for Kate, at the same time felt relieved to have stayed away from an abuser like Thomas.

The talk with Ryan was like untangling all those knots around her mind… she felt free from all fears at last. As Frida dodged Ryans hand ball, she couldn’t stop thinking how everything fell into place by having a positive perspective and how events had taken its course this time in her advantage.

Header Credit : to the owner (via google)

Killing your Pains…


Pain kills pain. what does it mean? – A more severe pain or agony can replace distress caused by a smaller one. Does that mean causing pain to others or hurting others can reduce your pain?..Really don’t think so .Human minds have this unique talent of interpreting facts to ones convenience and misconstrued thoughts completely .That’s why we see people using different methods to escape their worries, like trying to bail out their hurt and irritation by giving pain to others.

Sadness can sometimes turn into a dope… one tend to depend on and make it an excuse for the actions you commit and as a justification for the person you have become.

When you had a bad day our basic tendency is to snap at the first person who gives you the slightest opportunity. You have tendency to rub this irritation of yours on to the soft target you meet next. You just want to vent out your feelings or want to make sure that the other person also gets  a share of what you are going through.

This soft target can be your subordinate or the guy who honks at you in traffic. At home it can be either your parents or spouse. which is  the worst part, in our turmoil we often tend to clink on to the nearest trees and end up hurting your closest and dearest people the most.

The justification you most often give for your action is your sufferings.

“You don’t know what I am going through” is your explanation to others and most ironically to your own conscious pricks.

Yes you are going through a lot but is that a justification for ending up causing hurt to others through your action, especially your near ones?

Most of us have those times when you feel nothing Is working right … One just don’t feel happy about anything: life, job, studies and everything around . You can’t take this loneliness anymore. It feels like one has lost the last iota of hope and faith which makes even things worse cos then you are left with not even an excuse to try. One tends to relapse into that self drenching sorrow.

There may not be cure for your sorrows, but there are better ways to deal it. Talk to people, take professional help. Even better help yourself …find your happiness to refuge yourself and to distract yourself… find your reason to live for.

Find a way to express the piled up emotions, something to hook to … maybe its writing, music, involve in activities of interest.  It can be anything your passion, people, place …Find it for you sake.Channelize your emotions and try to get a grip before you fall apart .

These days you see many people venting on social networking sites. A lot of people unleash their frustrations by using celebs as punching bags . People continuously take the trouble of stalking them and reaching their wall just to inform them how much they hate them or how ugly he or she looks . Some even go to the extent of cussing people if someone has a point of view different from their idols  …what help it does? .They are trying to use their hate as synonym of love. That is never possible love can never be expressed through hating others. It’s actually your  frustration you are trying to sugar coat in the name of love.

When nothing feels right in your life and you feel deserted and feel deprived and cheated by yourself, the world and destiny the only person whom seem to empathise with you is your emotions.

Your pain can turn to an addiction, not that you want it, but unknowingly a solace…that you kind of help each other to co-exist .The pain of sadness is deceptive and swampy and it kind of evokes self pity or tendency to victimise yourself. Our pain lead us to many actions like being rude ,alcoholism , laziness and many other actions  of which our mind may not approve of. This justification of pain then turns out to be our defense mechanism of these actions.. an excuse … an Armour for the person one is turning into . An explanation to oneself and the world for all the hard times one give to people ,which otherwise we subconsciously know is not the right thing to do. It’s like” I know this is not how I should be dealing it, but I have a reason”. It’s like an attempt to put blame on someone else for your doings.

You are going through hell… yes you are unhappy but that’s never an excuse for vindicating your frustration on others. The other person is also going through his share of issues, may be not the same kind , may be not of the same gravity but they do have their set of sufferings.To realise that you need to see beyond yourself, but we are so stuck with ourselves and our issues that we conveniently overlook that.

Your pain is understandable but that doesn’t mean your behavior is acceptable (Steve Maraboli)

When you hurt others the fact is that deep down inside you are aware of our actions and we do not appeal of it.  It actually irritates and corrodes yourself more and you start to despise yourself even more for having sailed away from your vintage self whom you liked. Rather try taking revenge to your sorrows with your inner strength and goodness . You actually feel better about oneself and life in itself.

PS:(Header pic credit google)


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