Cruising Alone

  I know that you don't like me, Even if he was the one who first wrote to me. You never really understood Why I cared for him. So I kept my distance. Because I could never have him The way you do. He only remembers me When he's feeling blue. We started off as friends, And perhaps that's How we were always meant to end. He chose you To be his wife, And he's grateful You became his life. I exist only in his memories. You lie in his embrace. You stand beside him In sickness and in health, Through the trenches and life's wealth. And I would never wish To be the cause of pain, Or the reason Love begins to strain. But sometimes I wish He had kissed me, Back when I believed We were meant to be. Because you get to share Your tears with him. I hid mine Whenever life turned grim. You will always have him. Yes. You will always have him. I will simply Be  A memory.

It’s one of those days again The way I’m feeling, it’s insane It’s getting hot in here, don’t need the gym sesh to sweat, oh dear Maybe nights would’ve been more fun with reckless choices, like playing with a loaded gun But lately, I’ve been getting good at catering to my temptations icing my cakes and buns Who cares about those part-time lovers, someone’s new petty chauffeurs Isn’t it amazing to have grown, enjoying the sounds of my moans… 

  Baby, I am no Snow White, I am hardly fairest of them all. You can try your best to take my kingdom, And have me take a fall. I am not afraid to crawl through a sewage pipe, Give and take 500 yards— And still rise to the top, No matter how much you fumble up with my dealt cards. You can drench that tasty treat, And act as if you had me beat. But if you try to poison me, I will spit it right back on your face— Because I walk my own road, Not a rat like you, Who tried to play me and then said I am stuck in a maze. You are no one's charming prince, Let everyone see you wince. The fact you said you'd rather be with a dumb one, That you are happy you dodged an effing c*nt... That you would rather climb someone tall, And that I am only a runt... If that's true, Go ahead and do a witch hunt. Because you can try— But I rise from ashes, No matter how much I am burnt.

  Wandering through orchards, tasting the sun, Searching for the ripest berry—just for fun. You stroll alone in this earthly Eden, Yet blame every Eve for what was forbidden. Can you even find the way to that cherry, Hidden deep in the fruit of the loom? Or do you still believe only the serpent Knows the routes to diabolical bloom? Not every Eve is misguided by the deceitful viper, She dances to the tunes of her inner piper. She goes on her own quest, no need to impress, Finding the cherry to savor from that sacred chest.

  To the first woman I ever knew, Who carried me close, whose love stays true— My mother, my courage, my guiding star, Her strength and wisdom have brought me far. Then came a sister, a healer so bright, Her hands mend wounds, and her heart gives light. Through every struggle, through every win, She stands beside me—my closest kin. To the teachers who shaped my youthful mind, Urging my light to shine, unconfined. Aunts, cousins, friends and sisters-in-law, Each leaving wisdom that filled me with awe. NishaMadhulika, a culinary queen, Once unseen, now on every screen. Before the internet sang her praise, She ruled the kitchen in the golden days. To women of history, fierce and grand— Kiran Bedi’s courage, Jhansi’s stand. To heroines drawn from ink and lore, Wonder Woman, Hawkwoman, and many more. And Lily Singh, with humor and grace, Breaking barriers, carving space. Nidhi, Jaclyn, Seema Anand, too, Voices that teach, inspire, and renew. Pop stars who sing my spirit alive, Through t...

  You bow down to a woman, only to do her dirty, Preaching freedom while drowning in hypocrisy. You treat her right when your throat runs dry, Lust-driven hands, masked with a lover’s lie. Did you think she breathes for your vanity? You break her down, then mock her insanity. Does it thrill you, watching her question humanity, While you revel in the comfort of your profanity? You wear your sins like a crown of pride, Hiding behind walls where your cowardice resides. But doesn’t it burn when a woman plays you? Lucky for you, she’s not wielding swords— Or you’d beg for mercy before she slays you. Even Shiva had to bow to still Kali’s wrath— What makes you think you could do a woman dirty And she would go down easy? Me? I could inflict all the pain on you, Be it the trigger's pull or the dagger's kiss, But for now, I hope you die with a thousand cuts, And my words will be forever here— No ointment can heal the stings.

  Dancing under the moonlight, silky rose petals caressing my skin, seeing the reflection of sculpted form in the silver-glazed quartz. Engulfed in lavender smoke, there is only room for moans— not ugly cries. Who says I deserve love? I am Love. Fingers tracing all my curves, as if just learning to ride waves and surf. My lips, matching the shades of a rose, my eyes beaming bright— like pearly sea shells under the starry night. Who says I deserve love? I am Love. The silky tresses fall over my face, dew drops linger on my chin and lips, my torso covered in sacred oils, like a sculptor working hard to make his muse stand out. Who says I deserve love? I am Love.

  Labelling me as a failure, while you stand so fly— Did it not hurt when your father died, and you rushed to marry your sister off? But if you hurt me, does it matter? My father is alive, and I have no blood brothers. Oh, so you were just a kid? And who was I—Erin Brockovich? You felt so cool, asking me— "Have you not watched American Pie?" Now you brag about tasting continental sides, while calling me the one full of lies. Telling girls how they’re tight, how you’d want to do them when you're high as a kite. Did you really think you'd mess with me and I wouldn’t bite? "Are you asexual?" "Are you not finding someone else to sleep with?" Well, can you pass the phone to your mom? I’m sure she’s too tired, raising boys like you while your father left to have a heavenly fondue. Failure? No. That title belongs to the man too afraid to look me in the eye.

  You teach us the divinity of temple grounds, The sacredness past the mortal bounds. You explain how "Pran Pratishta" is done in those stone moulds, And how it feels closer to the divine home. Yet you often forget this body is my temple too, My soul lives between these skin and bones too. You go to war if they disintegrate or ruin it, And energy released is painful. Then why do you say I am dramatic? Who will fight my war? I never said I am God, But am I not a creation of that divine thought? Then why can't I weep for how they touched me with their lust? Why am I called names for my rightful outbursts? You teach me in detail about the sacred grounds, But forget that I am as much a part of it. You love adorning them with flowers and jewels, When I put on makeup and adorn myself with silver and gold, Why must it be seen as vanity, not a reflection of my soul? You bow down in temples and ask for abundance, But hurt my very soul. The others might have looted this land and ma...

  When you have his baby, Always remember how he paraded your "sexy" body, Like you were his goddamn property. But I stood up for you, Even without knowing your story. Because that man has no spine, He’d brag about how he made me whine, How he dimmed my shine, Puffed up with pride, Claiming he’s the only one touched by the divine. He’d mock my belief in something deeper, Sneer at my refusal to measure worth in the shallow, Calling me irrational, Just because I wouldn’t rate people along the hollow. But I see you, Caught in his games, A pawn for his claims, And I hope one day you’ll know— That I spoke for you, Because I saw what he’d do. Not for pity, not for revenge, But because I’ve learned to stand tall in this storm. And while he’ll claim divine favour, The truth is simple— He never even deserved a glimpse of your form. So when you cradle that baby, Knowing this truth I softly hum: You were meant for love, But maybe, Not with this one.

I die every day to live a little, In ways I’d never imagined before. Death is not always loss or an end; Sometimes, it’s the shedding of masks, The breaking of beliefs that tethered me tight, The crumbling of identities I thought were mine. Perhaps, a bit of innocence fades Each time life demands I confront the unknown— The darkness, the vast, unyielding abyss. Yet, within that void, my soul reignites, Moment by moment, piece by piece. I tried hiding in my cocoon, But I still transform into something raw, Something true, Something new. I die every day to live a little, When I see the scars on another’s soul, Deeper than my own— And yet, they carry on. Their resilience becomes my quiet hymn, Their pain whispers to my own: “Be still, and rise again.” And so, I learn to live a little, Not in spite of the breaking, But because of it. For every death births a seed of life, And in every shadow, I find a glimmer of light. I die every day to live a little. Then I learn to live some more. I die...

This year has been monumental for female pop music, with icons like Taylor Swift, Sabrina Carpenter, Billie Eilish, Ariana Grande, and Rosé leading the charge. Taylor's Eras Tour became one of the biggest and most impactful tours in history, a celebration of her entire career and the music that defined multiple generations. Sabrina Carpenter gave us her hit album Short N Sweet , filled with catchy tunes and heartfelt lyrics. Rosé’s collaboration with Bruno Mars on "APT" brought a smooth blend of pop and R&B, and Ariana Grande stunned us with her insane vocals as Glinda in Wicked , proving yet again why she’s one of the greatest voices of our time. These women crafted anthems that delved into themes of love, self-discovery, and the connections that bind us all. Inspired by their unforgettable music, here’s my short poem—a little ode to the magic of love, discovery, and the melodies that make life feel like a beautiful journey. The unspoken words between you and me, Un...