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We’ll walk holding hands

With all eyes on us.

They’ll pose and flip their hair,

The celebrities within.


We’ll step into the party,

Red passion on our minds.

The red goblets will clink,

I’ll toss my hair and wink.


I’ll straighten your bow tie

And tame your wavy mop.

I’ll ask you to get me a drink

While I adjust my shiny top.


Bystanders will watch and envy

My sequined Eliza J. dress,

Your dress shoes from Cole Haan

And dreaming up no less.


My hesitant heels will dance

Your hands around my waist,

We left our watches home

While cleaning up our best.


With midnight upon us

Worn down by the smiles

I’ll blow kisses from my coral lips,

You’ll wave, escaping the wiles.


We’ll walk back, holding hands,

Flicking between the frames,

Tucking in some stray strands,

Recollecting new names.


I’ll slide happily into my pj’s,

You’ll lose yourself in the news.

There’s no eyes on us now, baby

Life’s back to a snooze.



Come see my darkness, take my hand

And you will know me like none have known

Let me show you my edges, cuts and blemishes

That none can see in the blinding light.


Come see my darkness, take my hand

I will introduce you to my friend, the night

Who embraces, loves and does not judge

Who cleans while you are asleep in bed.


Come see my darkness, take my hand

I will show you the place you can find me at

And see me at my best in my worst

When everyone says I am not around.


Come see my darkness, take my hand

Let me open my box of fears and worries

You can hold them and feel their texture

And then we can lose the box in the dark.


Come see my darkness, take my hand

We can drown in the shower of our secrets

Let’s unfurl those tapes that we preserve in our lockers

And forget what shame means.


Come see my darkness, take my hand

I have been here long enough to know

I will hold the torch for you, as we walk

I will help you through the maze, my friend.


The darkness is forever true

It doesn’t lie with a new color each day

This tramp that I have fed for years

Steals my time and runs away.




My broken pieces, restless

Wait for their glue

My incomplete song yearns

For its final verse to brew.

A thousand years I have waited,

A thousand years I’ll wait

The last word that you didn’t spout

That last handshake.

The million words you didn’t speak

Echo in my mind.

The sweet words of yesterland

Escaped in the bitter grind.

I haven’t thrown the shattered glass.

It lies where you saw last.

Come pick it up, come clean the mess.

It won’t hurt, come just once.

What was the beautiful song

That played when we were young?

It heals my wounds and bruises.

It quenches the dry land

Come play that song for me

Let my spirit dance

I wish to know how the story ends

So peace can return home.


The Second Chance

Take 2

I am leaving the house now.

I wanna get out.

It’s been so lonely lately,

I want a second chance.

I have been through a lot.

Life’s played it’s nasty game.

It’s bowled me out.

I want a second chance.

I am clearing out the clutter,

The chaos has rendered me deaf.

I want to be at peace.

I want a second chance.

I have a few broken bones

And terrible bruises too.

I want to clean up now

I want a second chance.

I wanted shiny panes

I got a broken window.

I am building a new house.

I want a second chance.

The ghosts of the past did visit.

They saw me shudder with fright.

Not anymore, I tell them.

I want a second chance.

I have set out on a journey,

A journey to a place called Heaven.

I won’t go wrong this time.

I will get my second chance.


     Ever wondered why the number line has positive numbers on the right side of zero, and negative numbers on the left??? Well, isn’t it obvious, considering the substantial amount of superstition and orthodox opinion surrounding the issue of ‘left-handedness’? Well, as you can see, even mathematics hasn’t been spared the opinion against left-handers.

     Majority of humans use their right hands for most of daily activities, who are the ‘right-handers’. But, there is a minority of humans, who prefer to use their left hands more frequently. They are the ‘left-handers’. Left-handers are the most unorganised minority, being just 10-15% of the total population and scattered without any proper organised behaviour.

     India has a great past and a rich history. Religion came into existence as a set of guidelines and rules to adhere to, by the commons to lead a life of spiritual satisfaction and assure a way to the path of spiritual enlightenment. Later on, the religious notions and beliefs became rigid and took the form of distorted and unfair opinions, often creating a divide. One of these notions is that of the TABOO on the use of left hand. Left-handedness has been looked at with a lot of curiosity, doubt, apprehension and as something dirty, inauspicious, evil or sinister. We, in India have heard and learnt of several cases of left-handedness being ‘corrected’. Children, with the ‘left’ inclination are urgently corrected by their elders and forced to use their right hands for activities such as offerings to deities, receiving a present, or ‘prasad’, or any form of encouragement.

     This has being going on since time immemorial. Without putting much thought into the matter of handedness, our ancestors have been carrying forward with this notion, without stopping to think about the effects of such ‘correction’ on the left-handers. Those believing this notion consider handedness as just a matter of practice, and something that can be easily changed. But, that is not true. Handedness or Hand Preference is an inborn trait. It is not a habit. It is related to brain and Neurological Make-up of the person and can never be changed. An effort to change hand preference can have disastrous effects. It often leads to undeveloped growth of individuals in terms of confidence, and self-doubt in some cases. It also leads to talent getting suppressed and disallowing the complete realisation of the individual’s potential.

     While the scenario is seen changing in educated households, this biased view on handedness is still prevalent in god-fearing families, where left-handedness is still a curse. The world has witnessed left-handers attaining unimaginable goals and becoming achievers in almost all fields. The fields of arts and sports are full of extra-ordinary left-handers. To list a few: Leonardo Da Vinci, a left-hander, was not just a famous painter and artist, he was a scholar and an inventor as well. Innumerable American presidents have been left-handed. Amitabh Bachhan, a legend of the Indian Film industry, is a left hander himself.

     While history shows us repeated examples of the left-handed achievers, the contradictory attitude of society has become an intrinsic part of most left-handers’ lives. Living in a right-handed world isn’t easy! While the lefties make an effort to live a ‘right’ life, they will surely prove to the world, by example, that LEFT IS RIGHT!


The Quest for Happiness

Sitting by the footpath, hungry and bare,

A coin’s chime makes it ten,

His single day’s meal is won,

Oh, happiness is on its way!

Roaming alone all day,

Clean clothes but no one to play,

A hand catches the kid’s with a smile

Oh, happiness is on its way!

Waiting by the shore,

Watching the waves rush,

Ahoy! A message in a bottle!

Oh, happiness is on its way!


Fought with folks and left the nest,

Rested, a foreign pen, tried his best.

Earned a living, sense made its way back.

Oh, happiness is on its way!


Playing with her tresses,

Stares blankly at her phone,

A call returns the lost glow,

Oh, happiness is on its way!


The birds are chirping a merry song,

They know not where the gale blows,

A cheery flutter and they are gone;

Oh, happiness is on its way!


Part of a crowd, alone still.

Lost, without a purpose or will,

Toiled and found the calling sweet.

Oh, happiness is on its way!


Don’t count you dollars, think not of your riches.

The joy of being lies in moments small.

Count your blessings and you will know it well,

Oh, Happiness is here to stay!

Please, let me go!

I recently bought a book on Flipkart, a buy which I now realize was a complete waste of 110 bucks, straight out of my pocket! The book titled, “Never let me go”, written by Sachin Garg, looked promising from the cover as showcased on Flipkart and the review was completely misleading. It did not tell me that this was another run-of-the-mill story with the same old plot of a guy and a girl falling in and out of love and building on and manipulating their confusion and the chaos. It does not matter now that I read the complete book(I bet no one but one who has bought it with expectations will have the pluck to read it!), and that I found it to be a complete waste of my time, because I can now warn others to be wary of spending time on something so astonishingly ordinary!

Now, you must have guessed that it is yet another love story from the Indian writer’s factory! Excuse me if that was bordering rude, but I can’t help but notice that extremely ordinary and cliche love stories(sadly, by Indian writers) abound in book stores in India and yes! they do have an audience! Now you know why online shopping websites put up a good review even for the most undeserving books!

The basic plot is that of a young couple, in an engineering college in Delhi, who “love to spend time together and laugh on undeserving jokes “; I hope you are getting the drift. Yes, so the story revolves around Samar and Kanika who are “oh-so-much-in-love” and who keep up the mushy conversations without much effort! Samar is the kind of guy who trusts his girl, but still would take things on face value, and that is exactly where the story starts building! He trusts what he sees one fine day, which causes his world to collapse in front of his eyes. Without a second thought, he boards the train to Goa, with his friend Zeeshan, to get rid of the anger and feeling of dejection fuming inside him. Goa presents him with a host of new experiences and he gets transformed into a guy who takes each day as it comes and starts loving the unpredictability of his life. He meets people who change him into a confident and street-smart guy whose latent talents are invoked by the new tasks and weather he faces there.  God only knows how his engineering college does not mind him taking one month of uninformed leave! So, when he is almost cured of his depression, he is pushed back to square one, he is forced to unlearn all the street-smartness and return to being the old Samar, which leaves the reader clueless and scared about what twist awaits next. But, fortunately, the story wraps up thereafter and comes to a rather melodramatic end(Bollywood! Are you listening?) end, where Samar realizes what he has lost was because of his silly misunderstanding and that he now has to live with the pain of his great loss.

What the author is presenting is his own story when he was 21 years old and as-far-as-I-get-it, he wants to put forth the message, that one must not believe in things until a full explanation is received and that misunderstandings can lead to everlasting pain and grief. Okay, but what I fail to understand is, why do you have to let some random characters loose on a recycled plot? Why the same-old “masala” read? Why not attempt to write something with minimum conversations and more on the verge of being accepted as true literature?! Never again will I read any book that warns you of being an Indian love story and fools you with a beautiful cover page! It is after the read that you understand why the book pleads so earnestly through its title!

The change in rhythm

The contours potray a jovial glow,

The turbulence within no one does know.

The tightening knot appears divine,

A growing relation deepens like wine.


A beautiful smile garners many a cheer

The Sun setting within away does steer,

A hand held tight, now appears remote,

A hand brushed past, in memories does float.


A mix of colours, now red and white,

A mix, not sure, so proportionate and right;

The white seemed pure, though distantly fine.

The red, so close, so intimately mine!


Cheeks, pale white, were missable two.

The red brought back the rosy hue.

The firey red struck rhythms divine,

The diamonds old, relive the shine.


The tender gaze once sought hands warm.

The warmth of some hands, never had the charm.

You have arrived, an evening summer breeze!

Now I sweetly smell flowers, which once made me sneeze!

-Anuja Kelkar

Fly together

The skies were lit a brilliant blue,

A group of clouds played hide and seek.

The Sun watched over a mob that flew

The flapping wings and many a beak.


Some bold wings beat the air with might

Wings naive flapped away haughtily

Some had their sight on the air above

Some beat air under their wings happily.


The birdies soared with steady sight

Up high they aimed, and managed the flight.

Some greenhorns flew at slower pace

They envied those who won the race.


The violet shade of envy grew.

The blue now turned an angry hue.

Those lying low wished greater heights

Those up above gave sleepless nights.


A wise old feather spread the word

A lower height would do some good.

The pace now slowed, the level now low

Wings now flapped with a brighter glow.


The Sun now shone on the birds, with warmth.

The golden glow did lighten hearts.

The clouds made way for happy wings

And flying together, the mob now sings.


-Anuja Kelkar

Words elude me

When the morning peeps with myriad shades,

And the warmth of the morn seeps in with glee

Monotony with vigour fresh trades,

I see then, words elude me.


When caring eyes spot grief behind a smile,

And loneliness, caught in a crowd, they see

The warmth of the comfort lightens a while.

I see then, words elude me.


When stares so cold chill you to the bone

A warm, assuring gaze shelters the knee

The heart forgives the stares of stone,

I see then, words elude me.


When the clouded sky shows no ray of hope,

And a second Sun comes along to be,

The light then clears dark tunnels to cope.

I see then,words elude me.

-Anuja Kelkar