As life goes on , sun rises and clouds disappears. As life goes on , heartaches increases and life moves on a platform. As life goes on , addition to the reel world increases and the life comes down to music . As life goes on , kids grow to be adults , adults age to old , and you are still wondering at the small hole of your wall. As life goes on ,plannings are done and the rest are completed. As life goes on you fly to your zenith and sometimes you are stuck by the bark of the pine . As life goes on puzzle is complicated and you get a see saw ride. As life goes on wrinkled mother flies to a new expectation over a lost son in the war. As life goes on you breathe and isint that enough?

As life goes on to the new year ,let this be joyous ever and a new happening. As confused I am today I will Penn down every thought that comes before my eyes. Maybe God has given me special powers to control my fate. New year eve grant you happiness and memories .


The blank space


Harmed in the sphere of biased lives I crept inside

Knowing not the untamed struggle ,I harness my enemies easily

Like a serpents venom and a child’s heart I lived

Facing the blank space of my own desire for venegence

I struggled and struggled victory and death together I pretended

I was a strong window of bolted chains of sorrow

Until I laid my head down under the blank space .



Let me reach to you

I am a devil

Don’t do right , do wrong

I am the opposite.

Who has measured your birth?

Pictures and few faces!

Ask them ,do they have a note

Of their own doings?


You are sleepless,thinking of light

Its dark away , now you are a devil

A stranger to good,let it go

World is full of bullies,you be your

Own doing, push them steal them away from the moment




Now is time to flourish,be strong

Pluck all the Eden’s and dance

Forget about the snake you saw last

Enjoy in the black death of past



Death ,came so fast

You wandered like a shroud

You wore it on your ongoings

Like a king in the war.







A parting from a loved one

A sting on your tender finger

A thunder which made you coil around the quilt

A mask that frightened you at ball

That’s not what it is like to be desolate.

I am a poet , I’ll answer it in a singing way.

Old women’s wrinkles , telling a story of lost son

Old man’s hat full of holes

Young youth struggling with peace over the ailment of old mother

Daughter’s struggling to live with the best old daddy

Trees blossoming away with no fruit

Taps open but with no flowing of water

Birds flying to the destination

Nests empty , of ugliness in their nature

Deserts out of rain

Mountains out of snow

My reader I am just a poet

Had I been a heart of emotion

I would have answered the Desolation.

That night.


That night oh Beloved , tremors and thunderings,

Past ,present and places ,all on a wall of future ,

Clouds of cirius circumscribed the courtier ,

As some were deep ,calm and others venomous ,

There was a mark of red , a light that often spoke,

Never shone , absent out of the stopping by the fall ,

Flowers bloom with the red , red of the past of the men

Stopping from entering her into the court of herbs.


The red colour of venegence wore its space ,

Flowing down the waves like a ritual ,

The flowers embellished into its colour ,

A frightful scent of prejudiced nature ,

Tripping down through a devasted past ,

It held no future in the blank space of the courtiers yard.

A tribute to my teachers .


In a crowd of ametures I began my tryst with the college ,not knowing I had be a woman when it all ends.

Kamala Nehru college ,is all what I needed. It was the institution where my mother told me that I would learn knowledge. It all started on a day of august ,seniors and super seniors and we the fresher’s. Mad hatters as they had titled the theme as. I was new to everything. Never had a fresher’s party before never dressed like them before but still I gave it a move. My first ever departmental fresher’s in the college common room. It was all that I had for seen but still I was nervous ,afraid. I remember my ameture friends wearing flower embedded hats and looking beautiful ,for mine was a ciggratte ashtray hat ,not joking it really was. That were the first few hours at college a silly girl wearing mad hatter hat promising herself to be like one among them and not a misfit.

The tryst was never ending. I was there and next I was in my class of Foucault’s theory and Marxist employers giving vague and ambthes answers for everything. I was there with my courage and friends talking haphazardly about my experiences and my travellings in the new city. How it had me old and its history afresh. I remember on the day of fresher’s Miss Elvina pushing me forward among the various girls presenting their bit of madness. While I cribbed but managed to win the competition. As the day approached I still remember a dedicated face coming up to the stage of the Room 7 and introducing herself as Susan Thomas. Ma’am your lectures are still afresh in our minds , and who doesn’t remember what  Goblins did to the sisters? While we were introduced to the teachers on our day of fresher’s little we had known that our Hercule poirot will leave us in the middle of this journey. Miss Deboshree ma’am your attitude is an aspiration to many who are looking forward to crime fiction and you are still there in our memories. With her it was the ultimate fun . Detective meant fun. As the event moved on we grabbed our food and danced. And we knew its karma that has to be paid back. Farewell had to come. And the same food and dancing with tinge of tears with the time. Living alone in the new city wasn’t scary by the end of the first semester. With the teachers like Neha Singh , we managed to be the fierce women of our nation ready to fight every calamity that came our way. Amidst all these happenings we had a great experience of unity , challenge as a class. For the second years Shandy gave us a real tough time but with you as a teacher Prithvi sir , we managed to read it with full eagerness and excitement . Prithvi sir with your amazing insight to world and theories of life you gave us a pedastal of guidance that we can do it. Thank you for your motivation. As the day passed we talked to our seniors told them where we belonged and laughed and chatted. To all the mother cum teachers out there , Shobha ma’am , Anjana ma’am , a shout out to your homely feeling that no matter how far we have come from , college is our second home and you my teachers are our second parents.

The fresher’s was no more a fresher party now. By the remaining last hours of the day we had made connections and foreverbonds. It was then that our promising teachers like Kanak ma’am , Nidhi ma’ am , Amit sir , Mahesh sir , Swarnim ma’am , Gayatri ma’am  ,Amrita ma’am , Harpreet ma’am leading  us to the wisdom of knowledge and from ametuers to matuer scholars of our class we were guided with some of the forever hands and some of the gifted hands who had to leave us in the middle of the journey.

Thank you Kamala Nehru college for everything that you have done to us. We take proud in you.

“I never saw my mother as a teacher until I had seen her image in every teacher I was taught by”.

– Takbeer.

Third year.

In the meadows of my dream.


The sun is shining bright , the bicycle starts horning. A little girl craves out of the window for warmth. Life is all about the blue sky and silvery roads , is it beyond the close walls of the meadows. The bicycle horning goes left to make way for a woman of the middle age. She is astonished to see the cars , a new horizon , a new modernism. Her wrinkles give her a tough time to realize life is all about the blue sky and the silver roads. In a group of five to four school children I noticing them while they whisper in their ears about me. I emphasizing my absence ,they validating it . I am present in them for once I was in a group of five to four school children whispering in the ears about the other me. The whispers lead me to a narroway and I realize life is all about the blue sky and the silver streets.

The roses are red , and the lover is blushed. At the end of the street I see a guy gifting his girl a bunch of roses. Clasping her face she realizes life is full of the blue sky and silver streets. The koel singing , the horns honking ,the lovers loving and the mourning. It gives you goosebumps when you realize that the life is full of blue sky and the silver streets.

Time passed and I saw them again. Struggling to win the race. For I realize someone calling me from inside. Because when you are old and your skin fades away . I was the little girl then I am the old woman now. The sun is shining bright still , I realizing thus. Life is all about the blue sky and the silver streets.

Welcome to the meadows of my dreams.

  • Takbeer ©