Once there was a girl
Who was as beautiful as a shining pearl.

She was her father’s princess,
And for her mother, an ocean of happiness.

Her angelic smile was contagious.
Amidst her laughter and giggles, she was a genius.

She would paint and play all day—
“A chirpy little girl,” they would say.

One day, suddenly, her life changed;
A storm came by, unexplained.

She stood there strong at the age of seven,
When people her age live in heaven.

The storm went by after a year,
and left her shattered in tears.

Her mind was flooded with memories that were bad;
She ceased to smile, as she was sad.

The misery did not end there—
Another storm could be sensed in the air.

She endured that too, silently;
Her mind was left with another bad memory.

The storms ceased to leave her,
And the memories became even more bitter.

But she managed it all so well—
No one knew she was living in hell.

But one day, she could take it no longer.
She decided to give up, not knowing she was stronger.

She now turned to medication and pills,
because she could no longer deal with the ills.

Suddenly, on her darkest night,
She found her brightest light.

What brought in the brightest light?
The realisation that she could fight.

I miss how the hours passed—filled with joy, connection, and pride.
How the city night lights accompanied me home.
The routes, the journey, the walk.
How some nights were long, exhausting—
And reaching home felt like heaven-sent.
I miss the mundane, the routine.
I miss living the days I once prayed for.

Now I wait—to heal, for time,
For the days to pass and release me.
A better version—the one I’ve prayed to grow into.
How expensive it is to be deserving—
Of a better version, a better life.

I promise to do better each day.
Promise not to let this drag me down, consume me.
I promise to savor this:
A break that is a gift.
And I promise not to regret being given the chance to rest.

Learning that I, too, deserve unconditional love.
I’m thankful for this pause
And I know it will not be in vain.
Receiving love does not mean
You have to spare your bones for it.

I can smell it in the distance. This pause,
This current life I’m living.
It’s pulling me closer to a better version of me.

So now, all I do is try.
Survive.
And savour this life,
The one that’s slow,
The one that crushes you on certain days.

I promise to survive this.
In triumph.

A woman dragged to court by her hair,
on her red tide —
torn and insulted — hey you,
look at her, and wipe your tears.

Was it blood or silence that spilled over her destiny,
chained her soul to the weight,
left to pain all alone?

Her five souls stayed mute —
for whose sake?

Whose verdict was her fate?
Whose vengeance was her life?
Who takes the blame for her pain?
Whose ego made her scars?

Men chose.
Men fought.
Men gambled.

But —
who was stripped?
Who got hurt?
Who bore the injustice?

She — Draupadi —
her tears, her strength, her wisdom —
shook the whole world like a storm.

Her rage, her wounds, her curse —
set fire to Kurukshetra.

She was the fire never meant to be unlit .
She was the mind that housed the might.
She got struck by fate,
but strengthened by faith.

Her face — as beautiful as the ocean,
her eyes — shining like pearls,
her hair — like the waves;
with unfathomable strength.
Echoing her power across generations,
praising her alluring soul —
isn't this the time to unleash the Draupadi in you?

In
Summer ,  
Before the fall
Into resolve
Time has healed.

Chin up
Shoulders back
Powerful stride

YOU!
Have been found

My heart poured out in silent cries,
Its yearning bared to starless skies.
He, with cold and careless art,
Gave no respect to my devoted heart.
I loved truly, deeply—no mistake,
With a good heart, no shame to break.
A soul sincere, love pure and clear—
He couldn’t revere what I held dear.
In this age of love’s deceitful play,
Where hearts are bartered, thrown away,
I loved you like the old ones do—
Soul unbound, no greed in view.
Your name a hymn through all my cares,
My loyalty too much to bear.
The hurt still lingers, quiet, unseen,
Yet I carry no shame for what has been.Now I’m healing, rising, glowing bright,
No more proving, no shrinking from sight.
He was never ready, his heart too slow—
From ashes of pain, I’ll soar and grow.

Smoke slithered skyward, a silent silver hymn,
Like snakes of sorrow where the light grew dim.
My body, bruised, crept low through war’s refrain,
Yet my heart rang loud in the hush of pain.

The grass, like velvet, welcomed weary skin,
As pines above swayed slow in sacred spin.
The heavens stretched — a canvas washed in gold,
A breathless scene too wondrous to be told.

The Sun emerged, a monarch on his throne,
Scattering sapphires where the wind had blown.
Each blade of grass wore jewels like a bride,
With dewdrops dancing, star-like, side by side.

“Steal them!” stirred the mischief in my chest —
But peace, not plunder, filled my soul with rest.
The fields lay still, like hearts in silent prayer,
The world — a whisper held in morning air.

A single drop, like love, fell on my face,
A gentle kiss, the sky's forgiving grace.
The breeze began to hum a nameless tune,
The clouds gave way, and rain became a boon.

Each dewdrop held the story of the land,
A mirror forged by time and nature’s hand.
They gleamed like thoughts too deep for voice or ink,
Then vanished softly at the eyelid’s blink.

I closed my eyes — not sleep, but soul’s retreat,
Wrapped in the warmth of dawn’s unfolding beat.
Even as darkness tried to claim the day,
The dew kept shining — soft, and sure, and gray.

And I, though broken, found my burden gone —
Bathed in the beauty of the dewy dawn.