I don’t doubt my power, I know it’s there deep,
But sometimes even flames need a night to just weep.
There’s a brand in my chest, a dream still unbirthed,
But right now, all I crave is to just feel my worth.

So I stayed and I cried, I didn’t resist,
The tears fall like rain from a cloud that insists.

I don’t know what’s next. I don’t have it all.
But I’m not some failure, I’m learning to fall.
And somewhere beneath all the grief and the night,
My tigress still paces, preparing to fight.

So if I forget, remind me again:
I’m not in the dark, I am the flame.
And if tonight I feel too broken to rise,
Let me sleep in the words, with stars in my eyes.

-

I sat with my fears in a room full of mess,
No rhythm, no reason, just crushing distress.
The fridge still buzzing, the clock ticking slow,
I’d packed up my paycheck, with nowhere to go.

Today was the first of the jobless unknown,
Everyone paid but I sat alone.
No team, no emails, no calls to attend,
Just the sharp, haunting silence that won’t try to pretend.

I miss my Ma in a way I can’t say,
Like she’d scold me gently and show me the way.
I miss the old me who held it all tight,
Now I crumble in pieces, too tired to fight.

I’ve done it all, every plate, every chore,
Every solo goodbye behind every door.
But tonight, I admit what I’ve hidden so well,
I’m scared, I’m exhausted, and trapped in this shell.

-

He arrived without noise, a shift in the stillness, her sorrow once claimed.
She saw him the way dusk sees reflection, quiet, soft, aware.

He was never tethered, just a glance that made the weight in her chest float.
Where he moved, her footsteps followed, not quite knowing why.

Even silence felt louder when he was gone.
Not unbearable, just thinner.

They spoke in pauses, never in pages.
Still, it lingered and lingered enough to feel like peace.

Some arrivals were never meant to stay, some never even arrived the way they were meant to.
But for a heartbeat, he felt like peace, and peace, even borrowed, is worth remembering.

And if they meet again in some quiet hour, she will smile, not flinch.
She will carry no bitterness, only gratitude for the way his presence softened her storm.

-

Motherhood is a crown, but only if I choose,
Not a debt I owe, not a role I must prove.
Some hearts ache to birth, but physical health denies,
Yet society mocks with the judging eyes.
You don’t know her fight, her sleepless cries,
So keep your pity, your whispers, your lies.
Whether she bears a child or simply dreams,
Her worth is whole and it needs no seams.

-

Some days will crush you.
Don’t just survive them, meet them.
Hug the chaos back with a crooked smile.
Whatever the day throws, throw back your optimism.
Let today be kind, so tomorrow doesn’t have to heal so much.

-

More than Minutes

I don’t need hours, I don’t need much,
Just a word, a smile, a loving touch.
When you say ‘busy’, I understand,
But I miss the warmth of your hand.

Not in presence, not in sight,
Yet I crave your voice at night.
A message, a call, a whisper small,
Something to feel I’m part of it all.

This isn’t doubt, nor bitter blame,
It’s love that burns with a steady flame.
So if you can, just let me know,
I still cross your mind when you’re on the go.

-

The medals fell like rain on rooftops that never saw lightning,
While I stitch the sky back with thunder in my throat.

I am not bitter.
Just... done being sugar in their tea.

My poem starts in smoke,
but ends in ink.

A few more dances with silence.
A few more masks with careful smiles.

A few more mornings where I remind the mirror,
“Don’t worry. You're not lost.
You're just gathering fire.”

And when I rise next, it will not be for applause.
It will be because I am flame.

And this time,
I will write the credits.

-

I am the matchstick,
Lit not by love, but by exhaustion.

I flicker between ashtrays and dreams,
Where smoke dances softer than people ever did.

They called me strong, but only when they needed saving.
They called me kind, but never stayed for the kindness.

My hands built ladders out of firewood,
Just so they could climb and forget who burned.

I’ve been the sturdy raft
to them when drowning in every direction,
But I never learned how to swim with my softness.

And so I imagine storms,
Just to daydream a shipwreck that lets me float away clean.

-

In the echoes of words unspoken,
I stand alone in the dim-lit room,
Memories flicker like dying embers,
A love once bright, now wrapped in gloom.

I never meant to hold too tight,
To guide, not chain, was all I knew.
But now I see the weight I've placed,
On someone who never asked me to.

Was I too fierce, too loud, too strong?
Did my fire burn instead of warm?
Or did I give too much of me,
Until I was no longer my own form?

He sleeps while my mind races,
Tracing circles, chasing pain.
I wait for words that may not come,
For love that speaks, yet feels restrained.

And here I stand, a soul in storm,
Wanting truth, yet fearing loss,
If love means changing who I am,
Then tell me—what’s the cost?

So I close my eyes and seek the dark,
Not to escape, but just to breathe.
For even in silence, even in pain,
I am still here. I am still me.

-

Hey Ganapati Bappa,

Mujhe aage badhna hai,
Mujhe aage ka rasta dikha dena.

Jis raste per main chalu,
Us raste per sath nibha dena.

Is raste per thokar laage toh,
Is raste ke pathar ko hata dena.

Bus sath nibha dena.
Bus rasta bata dena.
Bus pathar hata dena.
Manzil koi bhi ho,
Bus viswaas ko na dag magane dena.

-