#invalidation
Even a humble society’s nod
Feels heavier than empty praise elsewhere.
Validation is no vanity,
But a mirror showing
Our efforts have touched real lives.
Through 7 Seconds, I foresaw my own triumph,
After surviving the coma’s shadow.
Yes, I'm worldly successful.
I've a fine second job,
Previously, a Probationary Officer
With the State Bank of India,
Now I'm a Group-B Gazetted Officer
Working as an Assistant Audit Officer,
With the Office of Director General of Audit,
North Eastern Railway HQ, Gorakhpur
Assigned by the Comptroller & Auditor General
Of India.
All that professional success,
And a fine equity portfolio too
At a time when most expected me
To fail, to become a liability on
My aging parents' drooping shoulders.
In my 2021-novel Swansong, I predicted hostilities
That would shake the world in 2025.
And in the many novels since,
Each line, each story,
Holds a fragment of truth waiting
For the acknowledgment it deserves.
A simple village cheer,
A neighbor’s quiet respect—
These small affirmations
Anchor the heart more surely
Than gold or lofty accolades ever could.
External validation matters.
Even from the humblest of societies,
Their acknowledgment is a compass,
Guiding us to see
That what we create carries meaning beyond ourselves.
External validation matters not
If I were to go live in the Himalayas
Like an ascetic, a hermit,
Cursing the narcissistic human society,
Extracting pleasure at every falling pillar,
Their sufferings have become mine—
My happiness, I mean, the Schadenfreude.
Oct 11, 2025
Oct 11, 2025 at 11:51 AM UTC
They say
She says
He says
Some say “it“ but are do not mean well.
You say “whatever“
And call yourself a bread
A sandwich.
You joke, you giggle.
I make it real.
Taking things serious,
Taking things literal,
Is a talent of mine.
But the idea of identity
It is a story of yours
These pronouns
Fresh like bread
Wholesome like wheat
Savory like heat
They are just like you
When nothing works
When all feels wrong
Sandwich will put a smile on you
And you
Might give a sandwich
to sandwir
A sandwich
is sandwirs
It is meant to be
Sandwich
Sandwir
Sandwir
Sandwirs
And sandwichself
The mania of grain and wheats
Will never be gone
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 5:07 AM UTC
I'm not greedy
I'm not indecisive
I'm not a ****
I'm not loose with my heart and my mind and my body
Denial is a wooden box I locked myself into at night to quiet the voices that cut me down and let me pretend I wasn't what I thought I was
the wooden box that kept my heart from feeling for more than one face
who are you to tell me who I am and what I love
and who are you to tell me my heart is wrong
I'm not unlovable but **** am I so tired of feeling like I will never be good enough for you who loves one face and not another
I am so tired of being too straight for a girl but too gay for a man and anything outside that box
I am enough and I have nothing more to prove.
Mar 19, 2019
Mar 19, 2019 at 11:17 PM UTC
We have incentive to collect our fears,
replace them with hope in the incoming years.
But we tie them off and leave them alone;
stash them away in the deepest parts of our bones.
Stamp them in blood, or tears we forgot,
switch off the trauma and train of our thoughts.
The tracks mail letters, to the backs of our minds;
a land unknown from the depth of our blinds.
I promise you, this ill way of thinking,
doesn't solve the problem, nor help it sink in.
Someone will find them,
somehow deny them,
for the points you could've made;
and the pain you couldn't take-
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 11:02 AM UTC
Here I am
Again
Mumbling excuses
For my misuses
Of any likeness
to rhyme
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 12:22 AM UTC