The Name Calls Us

A few things to know before reading the poem: The Name Calls UsThe name calls us the sun worshippers Like golden specks sailing skyward in a wide field full of wheat. This is us, or so I am told Dwelling in a sheet of snow where the sun dies in the day,where clouds of white

4 Short (And Perhaps Also Incomplete) Poems

1. Some Momentary Anti-Capitalism The mantle falls on this headIts owner thinks, shivers in terrorAbout a future and winter morning failing to comply. Dearth only suffers greater dearth. We are victims of it all. 2. Dante’s Tenth Circle (And the Cry of a Parent) Halt Alighieri nearing Inferno.“Dante, I am seeking a Tenth Circle,” I

Conversations with Selene

Note: This is merely a compilation of the last three poems I uploaded on this platform. Spanned across nearly nine months, these poems are simply a torn attempt at articulating emotions that I happened to associate with a singular theme. Part 1: My Inability Led Tonight I shall speak to Selene Of my dismal cowardice

Fleeting Grief

WB Yeats once wrote, “You must be won at a full Moon in March, those beggars say,The Moon has come but I am here alone.” Fleeting Grief: Tonight I write words of why words fall short Of how futuristic fascinations keep them at bay. Tonight I tell myself I live no waking dream Yet from

The Lady at the End of the Horizon

Nothing lies in these unaccomplished stridesFor at the end of this wasteful day The Lady at the End of the HorizonPays no heed to my adoring criesAnd when she never looks backI ponder on this Horizon’s deception: How it dares to show me an end,How it foolishly brings along hope,How it reeks in unpleasantness and

Hark

Tonight I shall speak to SeleneOf my dismal cowardiceFor in the night I speak to the moonI shine in lustre of vainAnd in the night so fierceI brazen, and I beg with fragile knees O, Selene! Speak to meBerate me if you willWhy, in this beautiful delayed duskDo I wither aloneWhy, when I tried this

As Thick As Two Short Planks (Part I)

Ananya’s existence solely relied on the Principle of Disintegration of Success, a theory she created no less than twenty minutes ago when she promptly decided that nothing was worth anything and anything that really seemed to matter actually didn’t.The theory states, “Unless backed by a hundred per cent success rate, it is a scam.”Therefore, on

Sarfaroshi Ki Tamanna

These murderers grimace at the scent of our blood.It’s farcical—they massacre the people they deem inferior merely as a mechanism to prove theirsuperiority. They call us uncivilized, they colonize us, and they shower upon us the wrath of their ammunition when we express discontent over their brutal ‘civilization’ process.Amidst this darkness, an Indian mind is

Humanities Student Tops JEE Mains, Astounds Nation

A terrorizing wave of obnoxiously high amplitude is currently passing through the minds and souls of every person in the country. Two days ago, just as the JEE Mains results were being announced, it was discovered that the topper— Taahira Sanyog — was not only a girl but also a humanities student studying in twelfth

How One Became Three

Close your eyes, And float high above the clouds Higher, higher still Where the foggy haze is blurry no more And God’s explaining to his apprentice Why three aren’t one anymore. “Twas two in 1947 An already diverged subcontinent And when the stratocracy: Irredeemable, clad in dark green Bombarded airbases where the tricolours bleed” “What