Sunday, 22 December, 2013

Damsel in Distress

A stog tucked between the index and the center
She dragged her steps from the floor to the couch
A skimpy, shiny golden embraced the bosom
And black leather chinos, the long legs
Her luscious glossy lips let go of the smoke
As she flicked some ash on the floor
Her black long tresses ended at the round tush
She clicked her heels and left the club
The damsel wore the thickest kohl
Blood-shot eyes and a bottle of fine wine
A woman of class, quarantined
Still walking eye-to-eye
Transgressing each stare
She marched to a loft secluded somewhere
Broke the bottle on the floor
She crashed on her bed
Scribbled something on a paper abandoned
it read, "I don't like being alone,
you all ruined me when we were together
you disappointed me each time I tried"
The pen slipped off her cold, desolate fingers
Reached the ground and made a sound
The only sound in the room
That echoed for a while.

Monday, 25 November, 2013

A Carnal Fervour

Tossing and turning
Up and around
Those bodies intertwined
Those lips whimper softly
As they fight for dominance

His tongue then travels a path
From the nape of her neck
Finding its way to the navel
It lingers along the breasts

With eyes those of a tamed lioness
She looks at him as he charges ahead
His burning eager advances
Melts her supposed rebellion
As she lies there with her legs spread.

Her sweet entrance he pampers
When his tongue penetrates inside of her
With her body turning numb she moans
Not feeling her thighs anymore
Wetness and hardness come together again
As those bodies exhaust in a carnal fervor

Monday, 7 October, 2013

To the Fear of Self

Deprived of an ear to hear you scream
Drag yourself across the floor, to the hall
Consumed in your own darkness, you tussle
Tussle along the rugged path
Bleeding on the drudgery of everyday life
Having tried to blend in pastels and neons
Exhausting bottles of wine, every time you were let down
You sit with your lonely self, with no one to call
All you hear is your own voice
After a while, even that faints out
Suicidal, you try to pull the trigger
To put an end to the pain
But the trigger fails you just as well
For distrust took you down, consumed your soul and burped.

Thursday, 29 August, 2013

Red is for Love, Black is for Kohl

A snippet from my debut novel, 'Red is for Love, Black is for Kohl'

"My family is like any other Punjabi family. Mom, Dad, Arjun Bhaiya, my elder brother, Mishti, my younger sister, Beeji, my grandmother and Bauji, my grandfather.

Our vocal chords were a little more blessed than others.
While we could not lay claims to the family of the great Ustads of Lucknow, we could certainly imagine sharing some vocal kinship or connection with Dolly Bindra!"

Go get your copies at


Thursday, 18 July, 2013

Font 35

In every choke down your throat
In every outlandish thought you hide
In your meek smile
In those little blue eyes
In my lipstick stain at your forehead
In your last bite of pizza
In the little bread crumbs on your bed
I reside.

In your prayers sung and unsung
In your sip of warm coffee at the window pane
In the folds of the mattress on your bed
In the musk of your body, in your passionate advances
In your asking for blue but wanting red
In your love said and unsaid
I reside.

In a message on your phone, font 35
Of an ‘I love you’ to someone blonde and white
In a kiss planted on her lips than on mine
In your sudden disposition form beer to wine
In removing the little notes I would leave on your wall
In your ruining my life, in your breaking my heart
In the spaces between your fingers filled by hers
In an unknown fragrance from your last hug

I have died.

Thursday, 30 May, 2013

Thirty Minutes

Quarter to nine
It started to drizzle
I stood there waiting
Waiting for a little more
Waiting for it to take me by storm
Literally too
Washing away the kohl in my eyes
Those little drops of rain, ran on my face
Slipping down the nape of my neck
Reaching my bosom, they tickled around the navel
Exploring places they haven't been to before
A few settled at the eyelids
Those he touched, kissed and took away on his lips
But I was waiting
Waiting for a little more
Waiting for him to take me by storm.

Quarter past nine
I lay nestled in his arms
After an ordeal thirty minutes long
His fragrance crawled up my body
Settling in my wet hair
Our skin by now was one
The hand of the clock had moved a one eighty
Those that were his, explored a three sixty round.

Sunday, 10 February, 2013


A finger taps and then another
Recalling all you ever did, said, taught
The ear-piece lying astray gawks at me
Mocking my feeble advances and aggressive tears
Sunshine yellow and pristine white
A few dresses untouched, cursed
Burn them, do I?
That coffee table across the café cries
Asks me to leave
“You don’t belong here” as if it yelled
And I dragged my feet outside
Head hung low, abreast the nasty wind
I walk, keep walking, still walking
..And yet never walked past by.

Thursday, 7 February, 2013

Debut Novel

Speaking about my debut novel 'Red is for Love, Black is for Kohl'  tomorrow at the World book fair, Pragati Maidan!

Venue: Hall 1 A
Time: 5.00 PM- 6.00 PM
Event hosted by Lifi Publications.

Drop by?