कैसे लिख दू  इन पन्नों पर
अपने इस दिल की तन्हाई
तुम जो अब नहीं हो तो
पुरानी यादें लौट कर आई

How shall I write on these pages
The loneliness of my heart
Now that you're not here
Old memories have come back

तुम्हारी जिन्दगी का अंत
कभी हमने सोचा न था
तुम अपनी ही जान ले लोगी
हमने कभी परखा न था

Your life's end
Never did we think about it
You will take your own life
We never had a glimpse about it

ये कैसा दंड दीया है तुमने?
बिन बोले मर जाने का
ये कैसा दंड दीया है तुमने?
बिन चाहे छोड़ जाने का

What kind of a punishment have you given?  
Without saying, you died
What kind of a punishment have you given?
Without wanting, you left

क्या जीवन की रोशनी
इतनी फिकी पड़ गई
कि मौत के गहरे अंधेरे में
तुम अपने आप को खो गई?

Did life's light
Get so dim
That in death's deep darkness
You lost yourself?

He can play the violin
With such grace and love
I wonder if he might be capable
Of giving the same to me

He can move the strings
On his guitar with such a rhythm
I wonder if he can move his fingers
Like that on my body

He can sing in a voice that
Sounds like all the truth unfolds
I wonder if he can do that
At night when I can't sleep

He's a musician with talent
And I'm one in the audience
If only he could look through the chaos
If only he could acknowledge my presence

She wants a house
With a terrace garden and a bookshelf in her bathroom
So she can read while pooping to save time
She says she wants a tree house
Where she can put fairy lights
And spend her lonely nights
She wants a cot where she can doze off
And ooh, a shot glass collection
From all the places she has gone
Though she would not drink because
She does not believe in substance abuse
She wants to grow creepers on the walls
And have a bird feeding area
She wants many dogs who know
How to open the door and bring stuff over
And she doesn't want a bed
She wants a tent that she can move
And sleep in wherever the hell she wants
She wants a huge oven
Where she can make pastries and cookies and brownies and cupcakes
She wants a hot tub in her bathroom
And a chocolate fountain in her kitchen
Which will be open for the neighbourhood children
Because she always wanted one when she was young...
But now she's old
And things don't make sense anymore
The taste of reality is bitter
For her soft and rosy lips wrinkled with time
She doesn't want to be asinine
Mediocrity looms over her like a storm cloud
But it's okay, she says
Maybe someday, I'll live up to it
Knowing within that she wouldn't

What is your story, old man?
You lie in bed, shuddering
Do your kids burn their eyes?
Watching you suffering?  

What is your story, nurse?
You’ve witnessed every ail    
Are you too weary of deaths?
Detachment over pain?  

What is your story, lady?
You’re a pile of tubes and veins
Did life get too ******* you?
Dying from old age?

What is your story, doctor?
Try to treat and repeat
Is it all a tirade of situations?
Is normalcy too far away?  

What is your story, child?
Tear-stains cover childishness  
Is the reality too sobering?
Does it overpower happiness?

A poet would live in a hospital
Where there are lives to discover
And stories to be shared
Which may be left untold forever

Once I was 6 years old
My papa told me
"Be curious and question
Nothing is meant to just be"
And so I questioned
Everything that I came upon
But nobody knew the answers
And I just got completely lost
But still I dived deep
Creating confusion
My curious being
Started living in a maze of questions
Whatever was said
Were broken bits
It didn't make sense
Knowledge became unfit
Maybe people didn't know
Maybe they never thought so
But they seemed content
With everything that was written
What? Why? How?
My papa said,
"Minds have become a pretense"

Dear world,
I am a woman, immaterial
I am life itself personified
But behind this exterior,
I burn like a thousand suns
I rage like the devil inside  
I have loved ones
And ones to love
I have a past and a present
With memories that make me
My feet are strong, grounded
I have a spine of dignity
I do not bleat for dominance
Protection or misuse
I am human, skin and bones
Rights to be treated equally
I look forward at the future
With willingness to learn
I long for things I admire
That I will earn on my own
Without any rule-books
Or terms and conditions  
I want to pace the horizon
Chasing freedom and serenity  
I want to live in a world
Which allows me to breathe
Completely and fully
Sincerely,
Woman

I don't get **** sometimes
It makes me feel dumb and incapable
I wish we could transform science
So it wouldn't feel like a burden

Where is the spark of learning?
The prime aspect of education
Formulas, calculation, books
At the end of the day, I feel like nothing is useful

Fluids, kinematics, gravitation
Atoms, molecules and electromagnetism
Phylum and classes of plants and animals
Calculus and relation and function

Sometimes, I feel like maybe I'm just better off at poems