Dear secure satisfied individual, fuck you.

When was the last time you called someone desperate? Or judged your actions at desperate? To get somebody’s attention? To get somebody’s love? To be in the company of somebody who could make you feel, that you matter too? I know you did, yesterday. You called a guy desperate because he has probably asked out a dozen girls, you called a girl desperate because she falls in love with every second guy.

Did you call a child desperate too, looking for his mother’s hand to hold while walking on a busy sidewalk?

You insolent fool.

You say like it’s a bad thing, to be desperate for the love you never had or long for the intimacy you see between others.

You say like its a sin to be desperate of a touch that could melt you away, that could wake you up, that could kill your demons.

You say like I am the one corrupting the society when all i do out of my desperation is be a little more giving, a little more kind, while all you do is despise me as if I am a transmittable cancer?

You say it like I am the one who is responsible for rapes across the world, while I am the one who respects boundaries, despite not having any myself. 

When was the last time you weren’t desperate sweetheart? Or are you gonna keep saying that lie to yourself over and over thinking yourself of being high and mighty? 

When was the last time you came down and understood what desperation means? why is it so evident in some while you hide your desperation in your sweet little mind and heart? Hiding it doesnt make you content, you too are desperate, probably more than me, just too afraid to accept, thinking what will the society think of you? 

Well, fuck you and your desperate measures to lock yourself up. 

Fuck you and your high and mighty attitude. 

Fuck you and your “class”.

I am desperate and I dont give an ink drop worth of importance to what you think, because those who understand, only they’ll know desperation comes out of broken mirrors, to rejoin again so as to reflect a perfect image. 

Only those who understand desperation will know how human hearts are fragile enough that a word can break it into billions.

Only those who understand you will know the desperation you feel deep within, but hide it strongly enough to judge those who are not so ept, or just dont want to.

Dear secure satisfied individual, fuck you.

I am tired of this world claiming to be high and might when the demons that I have are just selectively active.

I am tired of you calling me a “despo” when that’s all you are within the walls of your mind.

I am tired of your ignorance and inept understanding of the broken soul of a repeatedly beaten individual. 

And more than that, I am tired of your anonymity about being as the judgement lord of this world. 

Desperation is not a disease, for you are. Desperation is not whoring oneself out, as you think. Desperation is not wishing for love. 

Desperation is a cry for help. Desperation is a need to be loved again, to believe in what we see, to trust our instincts and hope that lives weren’t meant to end in desperation. 

Desperation isnt cancerous, if you judge it, then maybe you are. 

We could live with a little more desperation in this world, but we need to survive among insolent, ignorant and judgemental wasps like you, sucking at out very soul, making us feel mortal.

For know one thing, we are desperate and we will be, for our words will one day grant us freedom, what will grant you your freedom from this rulebook you live by?


In search of the deluded.

Was it the drops,
from the tallest trees,
to the bottomless wells?
Was it the effortless smile,
of an infant, in the safe arms,
gushing with joy,
unaware of the broken windows and the torn carpet?
Was it the union of two bodies,
entangled for warmth, care
feeling their spine
curve and unfold in ecstasy?
Was it in the incessant questions,
of your mother,
asking if you have denounced food yet,
if your happiness is yet intact?

Where was love?
Was it deluded?
Was it shouting on your face,
screaming to make its presence realised?

Was it in the wind,
gently brushing your hair,
perfuming you with the smell
of freshly mowed grass,
dawn of the first rain,
and victory?

Where was love?

never found,
or never really looked?

Didn’t care,
or scared to?

Life was, but an unprecedented wind,
traveling with your speed,
Would you care to take a breath,
Or die of breathlessness?




Featured post

Secrets to writing a perfect poem for your lover…

We are all but humans. And what do humans desire more than love? So today, You are going to learn to express the love which your lover desires so innately, through a love poem. A poem is always personal. The words you bleed through rhymes and metaphors describe your deepest demons. These demons possess you till you have let them out on a piece of paper with your own blood. Today the demon for us to tackle is love and what we bleed on paper today will be simplified for you.


A love poem is the most romantic gift that could be imparted in this world of fake realities and expensive gifts. The words you put in to describe your words tell what you really feel for your other half, how you treasure them, how you long for them. Through poetry, you express how every fiber of your body builds up your insides for their touch, voice and that smile. And below would be the most intricate details which follow the question – how to create the most beautiful piece of poetry to express love for your partner.

  • Pick up an incident which meant something to both of you. This incident could be the first time you met, the first time you realized you were in love with them, the adventures you have taken together, a day out together where you couldn’t helpDONE21

    wonder this is the best company you have ever had. It eases your words into a formation. And the most important fact,

  • Use simple words, not the time to use a rich vocabulary. This poem is about and everything else that you two stand for, your relationship stands for. Don’t use too many words which are difficult to understand or forces your partner to run to a dictionary. Love is simple and easy and available, make sure your poem is something on the same lines.
  • Choose a reference point and create around it. Think about all those references you share together – Game of Thrones, harry Potter, Bollywood, Hollywood, music, etc. and create a poem around it, using references from those interests which you share. For e.g. you love her like Lady Catelyn loved Ned Stark, or you need him like Arya stark needed vengeance. It’s all up to your imagination.
  • Talk a little bit about your future. Nothing makes your lover happier (especially girls) than assuring them about a future together. So even if you are afraid of commitment, your love story could still be heading towards something, so include that. Talk about how you feel when you are with them and that you would like to feel that in the future as well.
  • Don’t exaggerate. Be honest. Always. There’s no room for error there. It’s a poem written to express your feelings, so be honest with them. Love them exactly the amount you want to, if you are not ready to take the next step, don’t talk about it. If you wish to take it moment by moment, tell them. There’s no better feeling than seeing the truth in somebody’s eyes and words.

With your ammunition ready, shoot. Go write a poem about how magical a ride it has been for the both of you, and don’t forget to share it with me. As apart from being a poet, I am also a hopeless romantic and I love love-stories. Go bleed with words that are true and honest, and enjoy the expression on your lover’s face. Good luck!


source – Google images


A yearning Heart.

And as it may come to,
I had loved too deep.
For a long time it seemed…
but so I wished I had cared too.
Through the meadows in the wild,
she ran with arms wide open
To accept in my ruined self
I dreamt of a day such.
And I dreamt of a moment
when it would resolve the light
into a dancing fire
Alive with the passion within
for I had dreamt long
to be just hers and leave the world
as thee shall welcome the moon
and her eyes would be
the last glimpse I see.

Tryst with love

“Its dangerous” it said
I looked up, the eyes on me.
“You don’t learn” it said,
The most beautiful pair there’d ever be.

Stakes are too high, the other said
I was already lost, in a distant world,
“Its you” it said,
“Don’t look for me, don’t say a word”.

Don’t do it again, came the voice,
But my book had opened my pen in hand.
I can still praise you, tricky and vice.
Singing I was all in one, a music band.

Please remember and understand, it begged,
while I faded out of earshot.
“I killed my desires way back” it shouted,
A long-lost voice while my eyes found the tied knot.

The feeling is beautiful to let go,
voice fades out and comes the glow,
As I dream of an onward life,
with hand in one, and a common strife.

The first Encounter.

As clock ticked on and so did my feet with a synchronizing pace, it was all merry and peaceful. The drift in the wind slowly drifted my mind to things which were of higher concern for me, no wait for my heart. My heart has had this habit to always prick the sensitive spot on my brain and then to further push it into quick sand, today eyes gave way to her beautiful image. A beautiful smile with them wells of love on her cheeks, that short cut hair falling perfectly right above her shoulders complementing her doe like eyes were contributing to the fact how sun even couldn’t leave her out of the spotlight. The image was a pacifier, a smile could bring drought to my heart while her glance, one glance could bring me to my knees. The feet, the time had hit a jolt, questioning the very existence of synchronization, I felt like standing at the crossroads of infatuation and love. As she moved on, my mind pulled the plugs from the heart and started to fall in line for the rat race again. But it suddenly was hard, was tiresome to run the race, let alone finish it. As time clicked on, hour chimed, the feet stayed glued to the wire of hearts and while I concentrated all my might towards pulling them apart, they somehow defied everything.

The wire fueling energy to stay in this world filled with drama, brimming emotions, craving for a single dive or even a peek into her favorites, her interests, basically her poetry that is – life. The heart longed to address her from across the alley, to make her notice the verses of my poem. But somehow, the words never came out. They never reached the point where you feel the adrenaline and then you gather the left over courage to actually walk that extra mile. it left me sans confidence or rather sans belief. Then as i perpetrated my introspection of this poetry, checking the wrong rhyming scheme, where the words werent being able to convey unerringly I saw a shadow with my eyes towards the earth. It looked like someone was approaching me. And as that person did, a voice rang in my ears – “Hi”. It was a female voice for sure. And as I looked up, as she beamed with nervousness, I became conscious of EVERYTHING. When there was no other emotion than utter astonishment, she again said- “Hey”. And then began a verse, a new one in my poetry that is- life. While the verse had perfect rhyming scheme and I somehow rediscovered the synchronization, this time it was different as this time it was her feet and my time. By the hours, the days passed and relationship also escalated in a similar fashion. It may feel like I was falling in love but I still was in the cross roads of infatuation and well, love. Those long times spent together were giving us deeper insights about about our different stanzas. while the opening started from a mere Hey, the deeper we dived Hey became a much smaller version of the masterpiece. In the poetry that is- life, I have realised love is not a verse, but rather it is the rhyming scheme but somehow in her poem it was but a verse. But as they say, ignorance is bliss, I did turn my attention to how perfectly her hair has been falling all this time. With days, and with months, strength came as a given but there was a verse that was still to be understood. And while I tried to unearth its meaning, i got so engrossed with my spade that she got further away. And till the time I had gathered all the meaning, she had gathered her bags. I could not believe the months had changed into hours and hours into seconds. And so did our relationship in a similar fashion. AS I stood on the crossroads, determined to cross the distance, she somehow vanished from sight and left me to get back to my rat race.

As I woke up at the sound of my Roll number being called, my lips turned into a curve as the realisation dawned that this would be more than a dream. An encounter which will be remembered for years together as this one didnt have the sound of a gun rather a beautiful recitation of the plunge into the poetry that is-Life. This will be a verse by verse detail of how the crossroads are mere illusions and how Love is nothing but infatuation, till you go the distance.

Love and Beauty

One day on phone:
Mom – “how was your date?”
Me- “Quite the usual. Fun, not very exciting though. I don’t think so I want to see her again.”
Mom- “This way you might not ever get a girl. She was beautiful whats wrong with you?”
Me- “I wish it was as easy as you say.”

A normal phone conversation with my mom made me think how Love has now transformed its wings from those of a phoenix to a sparrow. Beautiful still, but minus the gravitas. There are many ways a person goes cuckoo over some other fellow human being, irrespective of gender. But what is it exactly that is this feeling which makes our hormones work overtime and lets us live high on adrenaline, 24*7? The feeling which awakes the lion from the depths of our soul to rule over our brain and prove as a new source of infinite courage and confidence?

Having had a bit of my share of failed tries at love, falling, then resurfacing, then falling again, I stand today experienced enough, yet still in search of the feeling love. Let’s reflect for one moment what is it that triggers love – beauty, nature or comfort of the other half’s company? The reason behind love or being crazy about it has been debated since centuries and to take one’s side would spark off a new debate, so I am just going to take a step backward and reflect just on the feeling of that uneven yet smooth, the broken yet so strong, the disheveled yet so organized feeling of Love. Remember the first time you saw that girl? Or the first time she smiled at you or the first time you spent time with her or the first time she held your hand? The spark you feel when the other person brings you at ease, has tamed your demons and has made you a better person altogether is what love is. Love is that feeling which not only awakens the lion but charges with it down the path to rule over the kingdom for even a Lion is merely a cat without its ferociousness. Yet, Love is complicated. Yet, Love has a million other definitions and still stands alone defined by 100s others in a million other ways. For some while it’s the tenderness of an emotion, for others it is the physicality in the form of their loved ones. For some it’s the victory of their team while for some it stands as showcasing courage in times of impotence.

The general mass today wanders lost in the maze that is love. They are lost by its misleading ideals, by the societal virtues and by the ever changing definition. Today love stands merely as physical affection or admiration. We fall in love to fill the void or to create a void. Falling in love was never meant to be related to a void. Love has always been a feeling, a string of a myriad of emotions which connects two souls in order to create a new dimension where there strength grows by the exponent. While beauty has become the definition of love and color, body shape and other features as the attributes to define beauty, Love is lost somewhere in between.

A man’s love cant be satisfied by just “Beauty”, for he needs something more than that, as Love is not just an emotion, it’s a myriad of colors and it just doesn’t need a blank canvas rather a painter to give it meaning. So even though our generation today searches for the word that is love, I still have hope in feeling the word that is love and that too irrespective of caste, color, form, shape, size, gender or any other filter associated to realize that precious feeling. For when I decide to meander in the vast ocean that is Love, I don’t expect to have a cruise rather I’d swim and feel its water washing away the layers of shell hiding away the real strength which is now unleashed via this string of colors. Let yourself be of love and let it break you and organize you at the same moment. Let the lion reach its Pride Rock and let it rule with Love being its added ferociousness.



While love leads to beauty, the other way around is an infatuation.
While love leads to beauty, the other way around is an infatuation.

Create a free website or blog at

Up ↑