#indian
I am white.
Well, I carry Indian blood
And Cape-Malay culture
The taste of biltong in my breath
But I do not know my mother tongue.
No Urdu, no Afrikaans.
And so, I am a foreigner.
Intruding my heritage
Aunts and uncles speak words I cannot understand with pride.
Pronounce every syllable with passion.
And all I can do
Is watch in admiration and envy.
Teach me, I beg.
Feed me your knowledge
Like a chicken to her chicks.
Enlighten me.
All I ever wanted
Was to not be called a coconut
I can eat all the curry in the world
But if I cannot speak my mother tongue
How can I say I am anything but a white girl.
Somebody teach me.
A phrase.
A word.
But they never bother to try.
So I sit alone and cry.
And write in my diary
With English at the tip of my pen.
May 25
May 25, 2026 at 8:52 PM UTC
To say he loved her would be an understatement.
He adored her like a gardener adored the art of gardening. I can imagine them as newlyweds— her serving hot tea for both of them, and him doing the dishes alongside her. She was not just his deceased wife, or someone he loved back in time: she is the only soul he would love for the rest of his life which is close to death, like a leaf that is close to falling off from a tree.
People use grand gestures to speak of love, to prove their love. But for her, his warmth was enough, and his smile was valuable. For him, only her luminous, ethereal presence brought the will to live. Two souls bound together by marriage, living through different seasons in life, and ultimately falling in love. To find your soulmate in a complete stranger is a rare blessing.
Like the swift current of a river, years floated by.
"In health and sickness," people recite during their wedding vows.
He didn't know that she meant it— He didn't know that she would move him around while he had to use his wheelchair, that she would feed him every one of his meals patiently. She never made him feel like a burden. On the contrary— he was the one person she never wanted to lose.
Perhaps that's why she had to go first.
And when he found her, devoid of life, he searched for her soul everywhere. Under the bed, in the cupboards, among the walls...
Where did his beloved go? Why was she hiding from him?
When realization dawned upon him, he wept, raged—
"Do not touch anything in her room! Let it be, let things stay where they are. Let the room stay the way it did when she felt. Let it be untouched."
He guarded the dozens of sarees she owned, kept in the shelves. Her scent was still living between the folds, carrying a fragment of her self.
After the funeral, he picked up the newspaper and found her photo in the death column. She was gone— she really was gone.
After carefully cutting out the photo, he kept it on his bedside table, and when sleeplessness tormented him, he would stare into those eyes he fell in love with, a lone tear rolling down his cheek.
La tragedia del amor es que pasará.
Apr 3
Apr 3, 2026 at 2:33 PM UTC
Who is he?
His eyes, they hide the secrets of the sea,
and as his gaze washes over me,
it makes me suffocate, leaves me breathless.
Who is he?
The one that appears in my dreams
with eyes shaped like lotus petals,
and body painted by shades of brown.
Who is he?
The one that leans in closer to my face,
my lips,
watching tones of red swim upon my cheeks
as his hands rest on my waist.
As I write poems, twirl my pen on the paper,
he reads every line I have written
and the soft wind caresses his hair.
If this is not intimacy, what is?
He kisses the mole next to my eye
like we have been lovers from time immemorial.
And when I awake from my slumber
I would still smell his scent, feel forlorn.
Why do I go on to mourn for a love that is not real?
Mar 2
Mar 2, 2026 at 8:59 AM UTC
The Indian brave rides all alone
Beneath the mountains made of stone
Under the clouds that go sailing by
With heavy heart and occasional tear he will cry
Lost many tribesmen during the Indian wars
Though white men he killed by the scores
A war of hate from both sides
That’s why a lonely path he now rides
A fearless warrior, a commanding chief
Who had to lead his people through all the grief
See women and children killed at will
Many terrible sights he see’s still
Now he wanders in his buckskin clothes day and night
With his feather in his hair an awesome sight
With his trusted pony his only friend
He will now roam until his end
Chawathka, a last remnant of the Great Plains war
Now he rides and thinks what was it all for
Was it worth all the sacrifice
His people paid a terrible price
As they fought for freedom from the whites
But he still has nightmares during his lonely nights
And he will wander until his dying day
Under the Sun and Moon, riding every which way
Feb 2
Feb 2, 2026 at 4:17 AM UTC
Ganesh Chaturthi festival
It's like a frenzy carnival.
Celebrations are for ten days.
Fun and frolic in many ways
Lord Ganesha idols are presentable.
They are kept in pandals where suitable.
The drum beats that played are irresistible.
Elephant-headed deity idol Glaze
Happy Ganesh Chaturthi.
With wisdom it is selectable.
Giving prosperity is countable.
Removes obstacles from our lives
With new beginnings and beliefs
Ganesh festival greetings to all.
Happy Ganesh Chaturthi.
Aug 27, 2025
Aug 27, 2025 at 10:46 AM UTC
I want to be a patriot
But it's very difficult
Because we aren't really independent
That's the harsh truth
Divided by thousands of castes
And a handful of religions
Steeped in poverty
Hard to find humanity
In this third world nation
Easier to find depression!
I want to be a patriot
However, I am hurt
By the sheer apathy
Ever present in our society
Towards the sufferings
Of the depressed and so-called backward classes
As well as mental health
Not to mention, so much filth
Leading to countless diseases
And thus deaths of thousands!!
I want to be a patriot
But nothing to be patriotic about
Most people are selfish
For gossip, they fish
However, when you truly need help
You don't get help
In this society, only pain
Not a single gain!!
I want to be a patriot
But no use for it
This country protects the corrupt
And the morally bankrupt
The good people suffer
Especially the women
And of course, the needy and poor
I am ashamed to be an Indian!!
I want to be a patriot
However, I cannot
All I care about is my close circle
Of family, cousins and friends
Call me anti-national
I won't give two hoots
I'm done
With this so-called nation!!
Aug 25, 2025
Aug 25, 2025 at 4:39 AM UTC
What Abhinandan left incomplete,
Vyomika rendered it complete.
And she wasn't alone this time.
She flew with Colonel Sofiya Qureshi.
Together they bombed terror camps.
Eliminating terrorists and leaders.
Operation Sindoor runs deeply.
Aug 6, 2025
Aug 6, 2025 at 3:21 AM UTC
A stranger who doesn’t fit anywhere on Earth
Something about her skin
Too dark to be white
Not dark enough to be her heritage.
A girl whose skin is too light
Her hair not black enough
A girl wearing American clothes
Living the American way.
Little mixed girl
Who doesn’t even speak the language
Of her grandfather
Fake little mixed girl
Who talks about being Indian
To actually feel connected
To her culture
Yet, she knows it’s a lie
She doesn’t celebrate Diwali.
She doesn’t know traditions
Little mixed girl
Who isn’t ethnic enough
To get offended over slurs
Fake little mixed girl
Who knows her ancestors
Look down upon her
Whitewashed self
And feel nothing but shame.
Fake little mixed girl
Pretending to be something she’s not.
Apr 23, 2025
Apr 23, 2025 at 3:17 PM UTC
I saw you off that day. I exiled you!
You came back to me the very same as a pigeon.
You flew through the opened door deliberately
And wisely as if it should be so. You were sure in.
I packed you off that day. I removed you.
You returned to me like you didn’t even notice.
You closed the door behind, looked steadily
And smiled as if you were looking at an Indian lotus.
I forbade you to suffer privations with me that day.
You as though didn’t get it and stopped at the same thing.
You made fresh tea and stayed by my side that day
And began to make silly jokes to set me kookily laughing.
I don’t let you go! I’ll keep you close to me everywhere.
I’m stuck to you! I’m trapped inside you in whole!
If you didn’t go that day, then stay evermore, for all time.
I love you much! I need none other in my life at all.
Feb 17, 2025
Feb 17, 2025 at 5:09 PM UTC
As we enter and branch off
In & as each different stream of water,
Let us share flow equitably as pressure,
May no loose colmation of ignorance
Seperate us. To the maturity of our emotions
And to the equality of our intellect;
May we wash away
All the built up silt and dead rot,
Which if without purpose
Only exists as an obstacle
Toward greater understanding.
May we wind & wade not
Where we face arrest by impasses
But are found by oceans.
May we be worthy,
That we walk away
More than we entered.
Feb 10, 2025
Feb 10, 2025 at 12:45 PM UTC
I
Did
Realise
In Time,
To succeed
And my dad
Guided me to
The epitome of
Worldly success.
Now I'm a beacon,
For you and others,
In this complete fray.
You have my example,
I realised that I have to,
Without procrastinating,
Put efforts for success too,
And for a lifestyle achieving,
I practised writing mock tests,
Not any more novels, none bro,
For I realised that I'm mi'l class.
The Indian mi'l class put efforts,
Without these, there's no bun,
So, I solved mock tests daily,
I didn't shy away and run,
Put my efforts regularly,
You too need just study.
No legislator will think of you,
For you come from the mi'l class,
And from the gen'l cat'ry too.
Nov 1, 2024
Nov 1, 2024 at 11:54 PM UTC
Pragya Bhagat's Poem:
this poem isn’t an answer
it’s a question
how do we become the stories we tell ourselves
how do we become the stories we tell
how do we become the stories
how do we become
how do we
how
My response:
Answer Can Be
Or rather the stories become us
Perhaps no becoming
Perhaps they just are
As they wait for expression
Hidden beyond sight
Aug 30, 2024
Aug 30, 2024 at 12:22 AM UTC
Candolim Beach, crystal-clear waters
Pristine, sandy shore, it offers
It has water sports like waterskiing.
The perfect place for sunbathing
The long coast line used by the walkers
Leisurely spent time is what matters.
Calmness and beauty are its factors.
It was so pleasant and refreshing.
Candolim Beach
Too good a place for beach explorers
Fantastic location for filmmakers
In North Goa, it's best for site-seeing.
Pleasantly so mesmerising
Known as the best beach for foreigners
Candolim Beach
Jul 13, 2024
Jul 13, 2024 at 11:01 AM UTC
On this day of pride, we gather 'round,
With cupcakes bright, where colors abound.
Orange, white, and green they wear,
A sweet salute, beyond compare.
Saffron swirls like morning's dawn,
A vibrant hue, where hopes are drawn.
In every bite, a promise new,
Of strength and courage, tried and true.
White cream peaks with peace in sight,
A symbol pure, of truth and light.
Each tender crumb, a gentle nod,
To harmony's path, where all may trod.
Green icing dances, fresh and bold,
A future bright, in tales untold.
With every taste, we see the fields,
Of dreams we sow, and harvest yields.
In every cupcake, a story lies,
Of freedom won, beneath the skies.
On this, the 78th year, we cheer,
For India's spirit, ever clear.
So take a bite, let sweetness flow,
In each delight, let freedom grow.
For in these treats, our hearts do sing,
Of India's past, and what tomorrow brings.
Aug 18, 2024
Aug 18, 2024 at 1:48 PM UTC
Independence Day, twenty-four
Thursday, August 15, 2024
It's a day for celebration.
Commemorates liberation
From the British for evermore
I thought of the freedom fighters once more.
Their sacrifices were done for
Is remembered by the generation's
India's Big Day
Its seventy-eighth independence, therefore
Full of tricolours everywhere, fly for
Remembering Air Force operations
Independence Day preparations
I salute the tricolour from ashore.
India's Big Day
Aug 14, 2024
Aug 14, 2024 at 10:12 PM UTC
Will you be forgotten?
Will love spread?
As a shadow I will come beside you
Will you fall as fresh rain?
A love for you
N heart song
Falling slowly
In the moon of colors
Darling in your memory
Just like Moon
Am I gone?
You remember the way you came
Will it spread in my soul?
Like a river
I will be filled
You are a picture
Will leave me
You are wet
It will fill the eyes
A look is enough
To fill the heart
Darling in your memory
Just like Moon
Am I gone?
You remember the way you will come
Will it spread in my soul?
Aug 13, 2024
Aug 13, 2024 at 5:16 AM UTC
There was a time
When I used to be proud
Of being an Indian
However, that feels like light years ago
Since then, so many things have changed
That I wonder sometimes
If this is indeed the same country
Where I was conceived
Imagine surviving a plane crash
Only to have your face charred in such a way
That it resembles a piece of barbequed meat
And thus even your own mother fails to recognise you
That is the India of today
A democracy only in name
Where the gap between the rich and the poor
Is even wider than the river Nile
The way in which the so-called upper castes
Treat the so-called lower castes
Is even worse
Than the way in which the Nazis used to treat the Jews
Nearly a century ago
Not to mention, to insult a cow
Is considered nothing short of ******
However, harassing a woman
Especially a woman from one of the underprivileged sections of society
Is treated, in the manner in which a simple traffic violation is dealt with
That is, all you have to do; is pay a fine
And you are free to go about doing whatever you were doing
Including harassing more women
Then we come to the small matter of mental health
If you are undergoing therapy or counselling
Or if you are meeting a psychiatrist
As you pass people on the way
You might hear a lot of whispers and murmurs
Making it sound as though you were dying
Or worse, on the verge of insanity
Therefore, whenever you air your views publicly
The chances of people taking you seriously
Are even less than that of Netherlands winning this year's Men's Cricket World Cup!!
It may have been seventy-six years
Since we gained independence
However, the reality is
We are as much independent
As Salman Khan knows how to drive a car
Without killing people in the process
As I mentioned earlier, I used to be a patriot
However, when I think of India now
I feel a remarkably similar kind of shame
That I used to experience during my Engineering days
Whenever I failed in a subject
After all, when your country's international image
Takes precedence over the living conditions of your people
Then it is only a matter of time
Before you are headed down the path of the Nazis
Yes, I am an Indian
And difficult as it sounds to believe, I used to love my country
However, my love for its people
Exceeds that by thousands of miles
Sep 22, 2023
Sep 22, 2023 at 1:24 PM UTC
In Bhaarat, the Lok Sabha
Requires a 10th attendance
To function.
Yet, they hardly work,
But they consume
Our resources.
Jan 24, 2022
Jan 24, 2022 at 8:46 AM UTC
On that August day
From heaven the martyrs cried
Their dream
Their struggle
For which they died
Was finally realized
The dawn was breaking
It was history in making
The charkha of time had turned
After so many years
A nation was waking
Up
Aug 14, 2021
Aug 14, 2021 at 3:28 PM UTC
Funny
They can tell
When my
liver's working too hard
But they can't tell
When I'm on
Drugs
Funny
They accuse
me
of mischief
and mayhem
but they don't know I'm high
till I tell them
Nov 24, 2020
Nov 24, 2020 at 11:04 PM UTC
trauma drifts down through the branches of my family tree
like summer pollen
Sep 26, 2020
Sep 26, 2020 at 12:13 AM UTC