My secrets

I lie on your table. The calligraphic ink stopped abruptly as you left, keeping the pen beside me. My pages slowly flip in response to the fan’s gentle lullaby. I’m filled with your stories,secrets and desires. You know I treasure them and won’t spill them out. But I really wished there was a way you could know about my feelings, my secrets too.


Thank you mommy




Note: Some of you might find this disturbing/depressing. But I had this poem in my mind since a long time. This issue has always been close to my heart. I had a tough time writing it, as this wasn’t an easy issue to deal with. Hope all of you feel as strongly about this issue as I do, and join hands to do something to change it.

This is the voice of all those girls who didn’t get a chance to speak. This is for all those little girls.


I can hear you mommy

You sound excited, you are giggling

Can’t hear you clearly, but I know

That you are talking to me

Daddy comes too and you tell him something

He also talks to me

I, somehow, hear him more clearly

He says something about him waiting for me

You both look and sound really excited

I can feel you jumping mommy

Don’t really understand one thing

Why are there tears and smile on your face

At the same time

Maybe I’m too small to understand it

But I’m glad you are happy about my arrival

Guess its a few months of wait

Before I finally meet you and daddy

Till then, I just want to say

Thank you mommy, for welcoming me


I can hear you mommy

I listen intently to whatever you tell me

You tell me stories, you tell me secrets

Don’t worry, they will be safe with me

I hear you arguing with daddy about silly things

Something about painting the room pink or blue

I don’t even know what they are

But I hear you got a lot of toys for me

That makes me really happy

I’m getting bigger each day, and healthier

Daddy is pampering you silly, I know

I’m glad because I know he’ll do the same with me

You have such a soft touch mommy

I can feel you when you touch your belly to feel me

Can’t wait to actually be in your arms

And sleep listening to your lullabies, your touch

You kissing me good night, and watching me grow

I feel your immeasurable love and joy

Thank you mommy, for loving me so


I can hear someone else now mommy

Sounds happy, and excited

But aren’t you feeling the same

I know when you are sad; I can read your feelings

Daddy sounds upset too, somewhat angry

I think he is telling me something, dejected

What is happening, I don’t understand anything

Suddenly there is a lot of crying happening these days

Did I do something wrong, wish I could ask you

Why are you saying sorry to me, repeatedly

You aren’t talking and sharing like before

I feel lost; daddy is also not talking to me

Why did you stop decorating my room

I want to hear stories again

But tonight you share a secret with me

Maybe that will answer these desolate times

You tell me that you can’t have me

No reasons are given, just a plain sentence

Thank you mommy, for sharing with me


I don’t hear anything mommy

Except for your screams and crying

I feel I’m getting separated from you

It’s like I’m floating in space and falling

Into some sort of void, I’m helpless

Suddenly it’s too bright and loud

But I can’t open my eyes or cry

I want to see how you look like, feel like

But they aren’t taking me to you

You are somewhere close to me, I know

Why are you telling them to take me away from you

I thought you wanted me, you were waiting for me

Your cries are mellowing down

I can no longer hear you, I’m scared

There are strange voices everywhere

Someone is wrapping me tightly

Saying sorry to me, saying some prayer

And is now placing me somewhere

Thank you mommy, for crying for me


I see myself now, lying in the corner of a garbage bin

Through a window, I finally see you

You are really beautiful mommy, but tears don’t suit you

Daddy seems upset, wish I could hug him

As I bid you both farewell, I look around for some comfort

Then I see a lot of girls in their homes

Some are beaten up, made to work a lot

Others are considered as a burden, are not loved

They are bound by rules, responsibilities, cultures and traditions

I see they have dreams, but are living in despair

Why can’t they live the way that makes them happy too

The tears, unexpressed feelings and hurt

Is slowly making them numb, lose faith

Aren’t girls supposed to be loved and pampered

They burn themselves to take care of everyone

I know we are strong, can fight the world for our loved ones

Then why can’t they fight for us

I didn’t find the comfort that I was looking for

It made me really sad but happy at the same time

If this is how my life was supposed to turn out, then

Thank you mommy, for letting me go!!






Where freedom lies….

Was born in a land

With fences at every step

An open and vast world beyond

With mesmerizing sights to behold

The birds conquered the skies

Fish ruled the water

Man was busy building fences

And I was chained behind boundaries

Eyes tried to look past the obvious

I stretched out to touch the visible

Everything was so near, yet so far

 It mocked me callously

The chains tightened their grip

Around a feeble me

Restricted the steps I took

And blurred the vision ahead

Feet were bruised through a million attempts

To free themselves from the shackles

Blood and tears numbed the agony

But eyes never gave up dreaming

And heart endlessly pumped out hope

With a thirst to know the unknown

And see the unseen

I pined to break free and run

The fingers tingled to touch the invisible

I was no longer sure of what I saw

Was it a mirage or did it exist

Squinting, I looked at the distance

I tried to paint what I dreamt

Heart travelled beyond what eyes could see

Wonderful stories were weaved

Imagination and reality merged

But the chains gnawing into my feet

Are a constant reminder of the

Sacred and feared boundaries

The more they cut deep into my flesh,

Stronger becomes my desire to break free

Till then I will fight these boundaries

These senseless, cruel and timeless boundaries.


I learnt what joy meant, looking at those kids. I crossed them everyday. The tracks rattled announcing the train’s arrivals. The stones wobbled, frightened. The engine’s screech could be heard from miles apart. That’s when they came out running. In torn clothes, runny noses, bruised knees, brightest of smiles and waved excitedly at us with their muddy hands. Their torn plastic house didn’t bother them. All it took for them to flash their precious smiles, was the nine coach train that passed their house everyday. 


Eyes. I heard everyone talking so much about them. About them being windows to the soul, about them being the only ones reflecting what is hidden in the heart. I also heard that a lot of poems and songs are written on them. I tried seeing what everyone saw in ‘eyes’. But I failed.

My failure makes me laugh at others. Because it just proves that everyone just lies about being able to see emotions in eyes. I want to dare them to see the same in my eyes. For sure, they can’t stand up to the challenge. I wish they prove me wrong. I want to be failed again. But I know I won’t fail.

They are stone cold and emotionless. My eyes. What else can be expected when you sleep and get up in fear. When the time in between is test of survival. Each day, when I push away the curtains, I hope to see a pleasant picture, but I’m greeted by the same view. Same old horrific view.

Witnessing bombs and bullets piercing through the places and people I love, that’s not something I signed up for. Some strong men, who would otherwise save people, carry guns and harsh words as their weapons. Some sorts of orders have to be obeyed, they say. Why would someone order to kill people? And why would someone follow such orders?

Tears have dried up in my eyes. The day I had to bury my baby sister, my eyes gave up on crying. They filled up with questions instead, for which there are no answers. At least, not in this grief-stricken place that was once what I called my home, that was filled with happiness, laughter and love.

People always complain about life being tough. Here, I have to quench thirst and feed the very people who killed my sister and friends. Well, I can safely say that life is indeed cruel and unfair. I don’t know where my parents are. My eyes longingly await their arrival. Hope they are out there somewhere. Hope they know I’m safe. Hope they know I’m still alive.

My eyes. They are disconnected from everything. Hands and feet do all the work. Heart just bleeds all day. Brain has grown numb. And, eyes don’t acknowledge the blood splattered everywhere, the broken houses and the lost, crying babies. I wished my eyes spoke what my lips couldn’t. But they are silent.

The question that haunts me every second is why do I have to see and bear the extreme degree of pain? Was this the only way I had to learn how to be tough? My parents were doing a good job in making me tough and independent. Thanks to the uniformed men, I had to grow up and become an adult at 11. My eyes are more aged. 

The dreams are distorted. The future bleak. Life scattered in pieces and garnished with blood. Prayers and hope keep me alive. I’m still looking out of the window, straining my ears to hear the awaited footsteps on the gravel. Eyes are waiting for family and searching for the answers.

Would you still call them windows to my soul? Because the eyes staring back from the mirror are not revealing anything to me. They want to be written in a song, want to be explored and loved. But they are drowning in nothingness. I ask again, can you read my eyes and the story within them?

I dare you. 

The Doll

I saw a pretty girl play with a doll

Her cheeks had a shade of pink

The eyes had a dreamy glint

Not a hair was out of place

The doll was exactly like her

Prim and proper with pretty clothes on

Bright red plastic lips

Perfectly slender arms and legs

They looked perfect together


I stared at them from this side of the window

The glass window that separated our worlds

My breath lent it a dusty mist

And my palms left behind a dirty print

I was besotted by the ‘other’ world

It was just so crystal clear

Everything in it seemed fragile

It was full of pretty people and things

Wonder if it has place for someone like me


My side of the world is almost invisible

Over here food is a luxury, filth an unwanted guest

A soft bed without bugs is a far-fetched dream

Here even dreams don’t visit us in our sleep

Though smiles don’t leave our muddy faces

I wish most of such smiles were more genuine

Our life paths are more crooked than our teeth

The days unpredictable like the rain

But all I ask for is that pretty doll


Will the doll know the difference me and that pretty girl

Hope she doesn’t mind finding herself in my hands

I feel like the even the doll doesn’t deserve our world

But it won’t hurt to atleast wish for it

Mommy says something about reality

Daddy talks about work money and cruelty

I don’t understand what they say about life

I just wish to be pretty, happy and content

Just like that doll that I’m looking at


I saw the pretty girl crying about something

Guess the doll she was playing with broke

I felt sorry for her and wanted to coax her

She came out running and threw the doll away

Why did she throw it away, I was confused

Does money give you the power to destroy pretty things

If so I just want that disowned doll, not money

The doll was now a part of my world

Broken, unwanted and yet she will be loved


I picked the pretty doll, promising it a good life

As soon as it came in my hands, I felt strong

I had to take care of it, and myself

I think now dreams will dare to visit me

Smile is as genuine as it can get

Mommy calls me beautiful, I believe her

Daddy says life isn’t always unfair

I braced myself for a better tomorrow

Suddenly everything seems just fine and perfect

And all it took was a broken doll.








I run up the stairs, bare feet feeling the cool granite. Doorknob turns smoothly, but the door let out a groan. I’m greeted by a wave of soft breeze. Stepping out with a childlike enthusiasm, I spread my arms, embracing the serenity. I look up with a smile, hear a slight rumble. Eyes slowly close as the first drops emerge. The first raindrops transpire. Erasing away all the uncertainties.