The Homecoming....Back to Our Roots

 Recited at You, Me and Poetry on Thursday 04?06/2026 for the theme Gharvaapasi/ Homecoming.

So here we are, journeyed roads unknown,

Chasing impossible dreams, the world has shown,

Deawn by glitter, speed and change,

We wandered through a widening range.

We carried forward the I, me, Myself charade,

With lies, deceit, hate, that the foundation laid,

We measured worth by wealth and size,

Saw deaths, assault and inhuman acts rise.

The noise grew louder, hearts grew cold,

Respect, goodwill, kindness, seemed ancient and old,

Respect gave way to carless words,

The wisdom of elders, they went unheard,

Courtesy faded from daily sight, 

Self  came first and wrong was deemed right.

Across the world unrest has grown,

Of fear and conflict, the seeds have been sown.

Though progress shines in many ways,

Brotherhood and peace eludes our troubled days.

We wore the modern cloak of greed with pride,

While simplicity and grace was callously cast aside.

But now the hour strikes, it's time to turn around,

We need to plant our feet back upon ancient ground,

Perhaps its time for a homecoming-

Not to a place but a way of being.

Let honesty be what we speak out loud,

Not the lies and deceit, to please the passing crowd.

Let civic sense and quiet virtue guide,

As we walk together, side by side.

Talking Pictures

 Tasveerein bolti nain, phir bhi bahut kuchh keh jaati hai,

Beete hue mausamon ki khushbu ssath le aati hai I

Jo pal lautkar kabhi nahi aate, Unhein umrabhar ke liye amar banaati hai I

Pictures do not breathe ,

Yet they keep hearts alive,

 They utter no words, 

Yet they speak the language of the soul.

They are our life's timelines,

Gathering fragments of our life,

Before they are carried away, 

By restless winds of tomorrow.

A baby's first uncertain step,

A birthday candle glowing with hope,

Joyful tears at a wedding,

A graduation cap tossed towards the sky.

A family or a group of friends,

Enjoying moments together,

When seen after a few years,

The ordinary feels extraordinary.

Every picture captures more than a moment,

It captures laughter before it fades,

And dreams and hopes before things change,

Love that grows beyond the widening distances.

A soldier stands beneath an unfamiliar sky,

A worn photograph of his wife and kids,

In this picture lives his courage,

His purpose and reason to return.

A faded portrait resting beside a lamp,

Maybe all that remains

Of someone whose voice

The world can no longer hear.

Yet families still smile through tears,

Friends still pause in silent conversations,

For love does not disappear with a heartbeat,

It lingers in every cherished picture.

Then there are pictures we dare not look at too often,

Our parents.....

Once the towering trees that sheltered every storm,

Their shoulders stoop a little lower, hair grow a little whiter.

Their hands gentler, slower.....wrinkled far too much,

The pictures then reveal,what hurried days conceal,

Time is slipping away,

For the ones we love the most.

When we search old albums,

 Old memories come alive,

Childhood, youth and adulthood,

We remember the joys and strife.

Pictures become mirrors,

They show us who we are,

They portray emotions,

And show who we have become.

They measure life's journey, not in years,

But in love shared, hands held,

Tears that fell,

And dreams fulfilled.

Pictures are truly precious,

For when time steals our youth, 

When distance separates hearts,

Words fail and memories fail, pictures keep talking.

Pictures are embedded,

In the deep corners of our heart,

Reminding us that life is never counted by the years we lived,

But the moments we loved enough to remember,

Yes! Pictures talk.

Sometimes I Wonder.... If a Goddess Ever Gets to be Human

 Recited at the anniversary event of You, Me and Poetry on Thursday 2nd April, 2026.

The theme was- Sometimes I Wonder.

I started with a couplet by the poet Faiz Ahmed Faiz-

Bol ki lab aazaad hai tere,

Bol ki zubaan ab tak teri hai,

Tera sutvaan jism hai tera,

Bol ki jaan ab tak teri hai.

Bol ye thoda wakt bahut hai,

Jism-o-jubaan ki maut ke pehle,

Bol ki sacch zinda hai ab tak,

Bol, jo kucch kehna hai keh le!

They said we are Goddesses, worshipped in temples,

Adorned with flowers,

Names of Shakti whispered and loud in prayers.

Yet at home, we fold in silence.....

Measured, moulded, made smaller than our worth,

Not all men , but always a man.

She steps out to work, to build, to dream,

Yet she carries the weight of two worlds on her shoulders,

The office may applaud her ambition,

But the kitchen and the kids still call her name.

Her success never enough to set her free,

Not all men, but always a man.

She asks for nothing, yet she must ask for everything,

Permission to go, to speak, to choose,

To wear what she wants, to be who she is.

Her will negotiated, her voice, her feelings filtered,

Her freedom wrapped in conditions,

Not all men, but always a man.

Words become weapons she never deserved,

Abuses hurled in the names of mothers, sisters, daughters.....

Her identity reduced to relations,

 Her dignity questioned, her space invaded,

Even her silence is not left untouched,

Not all men , but always a man.

She is told how to sit, how to dress, how to exist,

Too loud, too bold, too much, too less.....

She learns to shrink, to adjust, to survive,

In a world that celebrates her in verses,

 But denies her herself in reality,

Not all men, but always a man.

Sometimes I wonder-

If a Goddess ever gets to be human,

If worship ever meant respect,

 If she will ever live without fear, without permission,

Or if her strength will always be mistaken for silence,

Not all men, but always a man.

Sorry, But I am not Sorry!

Recited at You , Me and Poetry event on the theme - 'Me Dealing with Me.'

Log aksar mujhe meri hi kahaani sunaate hai,

Meri soch aur meri fitrat bataane aate hai,

Mein muskuraakar bass itna keh deti hoon,

Mere  ghar mein aaine bahot hai,

Mein apni khabar rakhti hoon.

So you think you know me?

But I am much more than what you see,

Sometimes I don't know myself

Yet I am happy being unapologetically ME!

I am a plethora of emotions

I laugh and cry, Oh so easy,

I want to explore and learn anew

Keep doing more keep myself busy.

I don't like to sit on the fence

My opinions and beliefs I want to share,

It's fine if you don't agree with me,

I want to speak out, I want to dare.

I am far from frivolous

Beauty, gossip, grandeur not for me,

All about travel, food, culture

Sports, self-growth and arts is what I fancy.

I can be an introvert or extrovert

It's decided by the company I keep,

I can be a big talker or silent listener

The words are many but silence runs deep.

I am no yes-man or people pleaser

I speak out , strive to do what is right,

Where there is bias or injustice

I just can't ignore and have to put up a fight.

I am an in-your-face, die-hard feminist

Against patriarchy and what comes with it,

I believe this world would be better

If womenkind didn't have to bear this shit.

I love to live in the moment

Feel excitement in the little things,

Travel and exploration is my passion

I want to go everywhere, wish I had wings.

I am a romantic at heart

But I have always unlucky in love,

My heart hates to accept that

Still hopes foe a sign from the stars above.

My life's journey has been quite tough

Yet I am grateful for it taught me,

I am not perfect but a work in progress

All my life a learner I will be.

I have accepted myself completely

With the bruises, flaws and all,

I know that I am enough

And I stand steady, proud and tall.

Love Letter Laments

This was a poem I recited at You, Me and Poetry evening on Valentines month to celebrate love. The theme for the day was  'We Don't Write Love Letters Anymore'. I began with a couplet from one of my favourite ghazals.

Pyaar ka pehla khat likhne mein waqt to lagata hai,

Naye parindon ko uddne mein waqt to lagata hai,

 Pyaar ka pehla khat likhane mein waqt to lagata hai.

Maggi noodles to do-teen minute mein bann jaati hai,

Parr dheemi aanch parr, dum mein

Biryaani pakaane mein waqt to lagata hai!

I am a love letter standing here in pain,

Looking for reasons on being treated with utter  disdain.

In todays fast-paced world relationships and situationships thrive,

Crushes bloom overnight and flings fade by morning light.

Break-ups and one-night stands are common,

Partners change in the blink of an eye,

Longevity and loyalty are a rarity,

When one goes, another will come by.

Once I was written with trembling hands

And sealed with a kiss,

A whisper of perfume or a dry rose,

Sadly, all this is given a miss.

A love letter no longer any worth holds,

What matters now is only platinum, diamonds and gold.

Holding hands, that flutter in the heart and the love-porn gaze,

All are over-ridded by infidelity, true love is lost in the maze.

Earlier people wondered how to begin,

My dear, sweetheart or only mine,

Now Chat GPT, Gemini and Perplexity

Gives you neatly assembled , formatted love line.

Those were the days when love mattered,

When words came straight from the heart,

Now it is AI all the way,

Real emotions and feelings play no part.

You have forgotten me,

 I ma lost in the corner of the cupboard,

Only the sender and receiver knows my worth,

Among memories kept, yellowed and smothered.

Rains In January!

It is January and I saw the rains fall today morning. The building security guard told me there were some hailstones falling too! As I walked to school and saw the wet roads and rain drenched trees I thought of penning this poem.

Early morning, rain falls bright,

Hailstones shimmer in silver light.

Soft drizzles tap on windowpane,

A gentle, surprise- unexpected rain!

Plants and trees take a joyful bath,

Leaves sparkle at the aftermath.

Roads are washed till they gleam,

Like mirrors shining in a dream.

Fresh cool air fills every breath,

Chasing away the dust and sweat.

The weather lifts my heart and stride,

A lively bounce I cannot hide.

Awake, alive, refreshed and free,

The rain revives both world and me.