The Raw me - As mystery unfolds

  As my soul leaves this earthly shell, I release myself from life's mortal spell. Dear ones, do not grieve or sorrow, For I have completed my karmic borrow.   You were but instruments in my life's play, Guiding me along the destined way. I hold no grudges, nor do I feel any pain, For all that happened, was for my spiritual gain.   Through your actions, I learned and grew, To lighten my soul's journey anew. Every tear shed, every hurtful word, Was a lesson learned, though at times absurd.   I am grateful for all that you did, Though it may have caused my soul to be rid. For now, I know we are all connected, In this grand play, no one is rejected.   To the spirits I now ascend, My journey's completion, my karma's end. No need to be reborn again, For my soul has learned all that it's been ordained.   Life is a magical mystery to behold, Directed by spirits, stories to be told. No rehearsals, only punishments for flaws, A play so grand, guided by universal law...

                                            Living on edges was always my calling, Adrenaline humming beneath my restless skin. The wind roared loud inside my veins, A heartbeat racing, wild and uncontained. I never reached for anyone’s comfort, Solitude felt safer than borrowed warmth. Then you arrived like sudden lightning, And something in me began to shift. You saw my chaos, never tried taming, Held it gently, called it something beautiful. Where others feared my untamed wilderness, You stood still and chose to stay. You painted color across my fractures, Turned my storms into something resembling music. In your presence, my fears grew quieter, Like waves settling beneath a silver moon. You are the adventure I never resisted, A pull stronger than reason or caution. Your scent carries whispers of deep forests, Your arms, like branches, shelter my wandering. Your eyes hold sto...

As a child, I lived in the quiet spaces between being seen and being forgotten. Love, in my home, felt like something distant— a language, I was never taught to speak. My father dreamed of a son, not a daughter shaped like me, and my mother— tired, worn, and heavy with life— carried storms, she could not put down. She once dreamed, of a home filled with laughter, but what she held instead, was a life of sharp edges and unspoken wounds. I was born into the shadow of that grief, into arms that never quite opened. Each day, I learned the weight of being unwanted— in the silences, in the curses whispered like truths I was meant to believe. I wondered, why didn’t they play with me? Why didn’t they hold me like I had seen others held? Why did love skip past me as if I were invisible? They expected strength before I learned softness, Confidence, before I knew comfort. So I grew up believing I was not enough— not enough to be chosen, not enough to be loved. And so, I built another world. In da...

  This house still hums with the rhythm of my hands— faint, but unforgotten, like a song that lingers after the singer has gone. In its quiet corners sleep the mornings I borrowed from the sun, waking before light could claim the sky, kneading warmth into soft dough, stirring love into silent breakfasts while the world dreamed on. I stitched time into tiny uniforms, threading patience through every seam, packed small boxes with more than food— with courage, with comfort, with pieces of myself you never saw. My dreams— I folded them gently, creased them small, and tucked them away between laundry lines and lullabies that carried your fears into sleep. Your father’s evenings, heavy with unspoken weight, found rest upon my quiet strength. Your storms— loud, restless, wild— broke against my arms and dissolved into safety. I was the bridge no one noticed crossing, the pause between anger, the silence that kept the house from breaking. I was the lamp that refused to dim when darkness kno...

I was born like a question no one wished to answer. A stubborn spark, they said—  too loud, too certain, too unwilling to bend. When I walked alone through corridors of doubt, their silence followed me like a shadow. No hands held mine. No doors opened. No voices said  you will make it. They watched instead— waiting for my fall to become their proof. So I built my road, with splinters of refusal. I stitched courage from sleepless nights, from insults thrown like stones at my unfinished dreams. Every step forward, was rebellion. Every breath, a quiet argument against the world that had already decided my ending. And now— Now they gather, like birds around sunlight. They speak my name with admiration, decorate my victories with borrowed pride. They say, they always believed in me. But I remember the long winters of walking alone. I remember, the echoes of empty rooms where hope was the only voice that stayed. Still, I do not carry bitterness. Because the girl who fought the worl...

  They folded your uniform with the careful quiet reserved for endings— each crease a goodbye no one dared to say aloud. A flag replaced your warmth. Cold metal took your voice. And suddenly the world spoke to me in hushed fragments, as if grief were fragile— as if it might shatter if named too clearly. But they do not hear the second heartbeat I carry— soft, insistent, asking questions my body cannot answer. Your child turns like a whisper beneath my ribs, like a story still searching for its beginning. How do I tell this life that its father became memory before it could become a name on its lips? At night, I press your dog tags against my skin— metal meeting breath— and for a moment they warm, as if memory itself refuses to stay cold. You left in boots that promised return, with laughter stitched into your jacket pockets, with tomorrow still folded in your hands. Now the wind moves through your absence, through sleeves that remember shape but not touch. They say you died for a n...

 The war does not end,  when the guns grow tired. It lingers in the cracked walls, in the silence of streets that once carried laughter. A rusted helmet half-buried in dust remembers a name no stone was carved to hold. Boot prints fade, but the earth keeps the weight of marching. In the quiet fields where bullets once argued with the sky, wildflowers rise without asking who won. Children now run through broken corridors, their footsteps echoing where commands once lived. War leaves no monuments as honest as its remains— a bent spoon, a torn photograph, a letter that never reached home. And somewhere beneath the growing grass, the past breathes slowly, waiting for the living to remember.

I long to be loved the way jasmine loves the mango tree— not with the urgency of storms that arrive loudly only to vanish by dawn, not with the hunger that consumes more than it creates, not with hands that grasp yet never truly hold, but with the patient devotion of something tender that understands how to grow slowly, how to wait for the right season, how to climb softly until it becomes part of another soul. I long to be loved in the language of roots and fragrance, where nothing needs to be shouted to be known, where affection moves quietly through bark, branch, leaf, and bloom, where presence itself becomes a form of prayer. Let it begin gently— with kindness laid down like fertile earth, with trust watered daily, with laughter falling like first rain on thirsty ground, with eyes that listen before lips begin to speak. Let love not rush us. Let it learn our silences, memorize our wounds, trace the old fractures we hide beneath polished smiles, and kiss them not with pity but with ...

Three Days by the Sea Last week I walked beside the restless sea, Where winds were cold and sharp with memory. My mind kept whispering, Stay one moment more, As if my heart still lingered on that shore. I did not wish to taste a freedom bright, Afraid it would be stolen with the night. For some joys come like sunlight through the rain— They warm the soul, then disappear again. Yet when I went, I stood against the blue, The endless sky, the waves, the world anew. I faced the horizon, silent, bare, and still, As though the sea could hear my hidden will. I thought of life, of those whose smiles were light, Who seemed to carry happiness so right. A handful of souls, so gentle and so true, Who made the world feel softer than I knew. Take me out— Out of this ache that quietly remains, Out of the waiting heart that wears its chains. Take me somewhere where sorrow cannot stay, Where dawn is kind and fear has lost its way. The waves kept kissing softly at my feet, A rhythm slow, unhurried, bitt...

In a land so far from home, where the seas whisper low,   A little girl wandered, lost in a world she didn’t know.   The colors were strange, the faces all new,   Her heart ached for the place where the skies were her hue. She remembered the fields where she used to play,   The lullabies sung at the end of the day.   But now in Kanyakumari, with fear in her chest,   She searched for a smile, for a place to rest. Auto drivers saw her, their eyes filled with care,   A child out of place, with a lost, lonely stare.   The word spread like fire, through the towns and the streets,   Until the news reached the ears that so longed for this beat. On the second day, a miracle so sweet,   Her parents appeared, their hearts skipping a beat.   Tears flowed like rivers, washing away the fear,   As they held her close, whispering, “We’re here, we’re here.” She buried her face in the ...

In the stillness of the night, when shadows softly creep,   A fear takes hold within me, pulling me from sleep.   Daddy’s breath was heavy, his heart caught in its strife,   And in that fleeting moment, I feared for his life. I am their only daughter, no sister, no brother near,   And in that fragile silence, my heart trembled with fear.   What if the world took them, left me on my own?   In the vastness of this life, how would I be grown? I imagine days without them, a life too hard to bear,   Without their loving voices, without their tender care.   Mom’s gentle words, Dad’s strong embrace,   A world without them feels like an empty place. I close my eyes and wish so deep, from the core of my soul,   That they live far longer than me, that they never grow old.   For I’d rather walk alone into the unknown,   Than face this world without them, my heart, my home. So sta...

In the quiet of the night, where shadows softly fall,   I sit alone, where once there were voices, now just a hollow call.   The earth took more than ground beneath, it tore apart my heart,   In the landslide’s cruel embrace, my world was torn apart. Mama’s laughter, soft and warm, now echoes in the past,   Papa’s gentle, steady hands, I felt their touch last.   My sister’s smile, a guiding light, now lost beneath the clay,   In one swift, merciless moment, they were all swept away. I search the skies for answers, but the stars give no reply,   Just silent, distant twinkling in a cold, unfeeling sky.   The mountains stand like sentinels, indifferent to my pain,   They hold my dearest in their grasp, under the fallen rain. I cry out to the heavens, but my voice is lost in wind,   No arms to hold me close, no solace can I find.   The world is full of strangers now, in a home I don...

I love you, though I fail to say The thousand words I feel each day. For long years, through time’s embrace, Your memory has kept its place. I loved you then, I love you still, A quiet heart, a stubborn will. Though silence wrapped my soul so tight, Your name still glimmers in the night. Back in that office, side by side, Where dreams and deadlines would collide, We worked beneath the humming light, Through weary days and sleepless nights. And when the clock struck midnight’s chime, Those stolen breaks became sublime. The world grew still, the halls grew bare, Yet all I knew was you were there. I’d pass you by with trembling grace, Pretending calm upon my face. The scent of smoke around you stayed, A strange sweet memory never swayed. You stood so close, yet far away, Unknowing of my heart’s dismay. While I, in silence, watched you stand, And longed to simply hold your hand. You never knew the storms inside, The tides of love I tried to hide. Each glance from you, though brief and smal...

 In the shadows of the moonlit night, Where whispers linger, soft and light, She hopes he'll share what's in his heart, Yet he remains, reluctant to start. Her gentle plea, a heartfelt call, Encouraging him to break love's thrall, To reveal the depths he hides inside, In hopes their love won't be denied. Oh, tender soul, she softly cries, Let love's sweet song break through the night, In whispers soft as twilight's glow, Through words that dance on evening air, My heart reveals what words don't show, A silent vow, a tender prayer.

  You are a memory from eight years past, Back then, I was naive and young. Longing for your attention, it lasted, A phase of yearning, when our paths swung.   We drifted apart, then reconnected, A yearly conversation, a fleeting delight. Each time we spoke, my heart was affected, Yearning to confess, yet filled with fright.   Now I stand here, still unsure and shy, Hoping to express what's deep inside. In whispers soft as twilight's glow, Through words that dance on the evening air, My heart reveals what words don't show, A silent vow, a tender prayer.   In every glance, in every sigh, I speak my love with every sigh.

    Got lost in the woods,  Smelling that freshness of nature,  That was long lost.  Expressing love without any fear of barriers, Beholding it as it comes, Drowned in love,  Soaked in lust, I live! Yes, now I've started living, As nobody chains my emotions, Or hinder my way of expressing, My thoughts flies, And my life has started flying along,  I smile wide with a over whelmed heart, And an unstoppable urge to live!

In the realm of dreams, a girl aspires, To soar on wings, her spirit on fire. A longing to transcend earthly bounds, To dance with clouds, where freedom resounds. In twilight's embrace, she closes her eyes, Envisioning a canvas of cerulean skies. Imagining a world beyond mortal strife, Where beauty unfolds in the afterlife. Her dreams take flight on ethereal wings, Exploring realms where the soul sings. A tapestry woven with colors untold, As she envisions a destiny to unfold. Through cycles of life, a cosmic ballet, Reincarnation's mystique in the astral array. A phoenix rising from the ashes of time, Each rebirth, a new paradigm. In the tapestry of existence, threads intertwine, Past and future, a cosmic design. She dreams of lifetimes, an eternal quest, A soul's journey, an unwavering zest. A butterfly emerging from a cocoon, A symphony played on the moon. In each rebirth, a chance to refine, The essence of self, an eternal design. Through the corridors of time, she weav...

As he departs from sight, a void unfilled, Words, like gentle raindrops, you instilled. Even when love's arrow pierced my heart's wall, Desolation echoed in every breath's call. Yet, your gift was a world of words and hue, A sanctuary that within me grew. I've witnessed this departure, a thousand times told, Bodies turned to ashes, stories of old. Today, it's different, a sorrow so vast, For it's you, turning to ash at last. Brother, why did you leave so soon, Could you not stay beneath the moon? You could have lived, not just for me, But for the mother, you see, She endured life's relentless strife, Your promise, her reason for life. Was your karma to the divine supreme, More important than her lifelong dream? Hey, death, a senseless jest you play, Ignoring pleas, taking him away. A widow's hope, her only thread, Snatched by you, as you sped. Oh, death, you heartless clown, Leaving sorrow and despair all around.