The Last Page

I reached the last page of my diary
Now I write on the night skies
My words whistle through the wind
And on every leaf of every tree
Through eternal echoes
You shall remember me

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frozen faiths

do you expect frozen faiths
to thaw leaden hearts
when even god’s perfection
evolves, through
each experience, within
every essence

stagnant beliefs
decay minds

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the heart is the pulse of the body
the drum is the pulse of the soul

In yesterday’s harmonium lesson, our teacher brought along his tabla as an accompaniment. They really enhanced the lesson and we had so much fun!

20150321_151829_20150322092215536I came across these videos which really bring out how potent the drumbeat can be:

Watch how this little boy’s fingers fly!

I dare you to listen to this without moving to the rhythm!

Women too!!

If only we could recognise
That we all move to different rhythms
Perhaps there would be peace in this world

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A Season for Martyrs

Those who are slain in the name of God
Do not consider them as dead
And what then should we consider those
Who are merely dying to live
But suffer persecution in your name

Unintended pawns
In someone else’s game
Naive and unaware of their misdemeanors
Uncomprehending of those rigid minds
How do you permit your colorful world
To be viewed in black or white?

I ask not out of defiance
Nor from any arrogance
I only ask because
You counsel us to question
And to wonder

Perhaps as the winds change
This season too shall pass
A season for martyrs
A season for living martyrs


This poem was inspired by Bina Shah’s book A Season for Martyrs. It also gives me an opportunity to win the AudioBook which is now out at and is narrated by Saad Haroon. It would be my very first experience of an audiobook. You can read more about the book and listen to a sample of the narration at Bina’s blog.


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I set out to change the world

I set out to change the world
But instead, the world changed me

And it was only from this change
That I realised what it is
To even want to change the world

Change is her own mistress
You cannot force her
Nor can you prevent her,
When the time is right

Oh! to be an observer of change
Be it abrupt
Within an instant of an instant
Like threading a needle
During the flash of lightning
Or delayed
Over several lifetimes
Eighty four lakhs, to be precise*

All I know about change is that
You have to be prepared for it
With only two instruments

If you fail to be patient
That change may never happen
If you resist to respond
That change will hold you hostage

I set out to change the world
…. for the second time round

** A soul passes through 8.4 million (84 lakhs) births ~ the Vedas

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~ I will see it, when I believe it ~

he keeps saying he cares
to which i always retort…
well, you never show me!
i don’t feel it!

but maybe
i will never see it
until i believe it

i think maybe
we should believe
a whole lot more

maybe we should
err on the side of trust

why do we put up
a tough exterior?
one day it will all break

every color
shall turn to grey

so let’s get hurt
knowing we trusted
rather than barricade ourselves
never knowing
what might have been…

20150315_151505_resized_1 Photo credit: ME! :)

( I have categorized this poem in Relationships as well as Spirituality.
Step back and see how it fits into both)

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the breaking of a heart
produces no sound
not like glass smashing
or the crunch of bones

heartbreak is as silent as a feather’s flight
extinguishing the light within
the world slows its movement
and angels stop playing their harps
for the heart is god’s abode

heartbreak is the only sin
that justifies the existence of a hell

(Came across the first verse of this poem  I had written a while ago.
Decided to finish it today)

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questionless answers

if you receive questionless answers
perhaps a prayer is fulfilled
He gives you what you need
and not what you ask for

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Silenced Justice

while justice remains silenced
hypocrisy acts as the instrument
that deludes the ignorant
and subdues those exploited

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All Hell Broke Loose

When all hell broke loose
Heaven was finally filled with friends

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