How to travel in a metro train.

1. Stand behind the yellow line, or maybe on it, or just maybe in front of it because if you wish to be the first one to enter the veins of Delhi, you must risk it.

2. If the day is bright for you, you will get the privilege of walking yourself into the metro and if not, then even better, because everybody around you will take you inside. A tip is, to know beforehand which kind of a traveller you are. Are you the one who travels in a Women’s coach? Or the one who prefers General? Or do you constitute the population that stands on the connecters?

3. When you travel in the metro almost every day, it will begin revealing its secrets to you. Just keep your ears and eyes open. For example I, who after travelling in the women’s coach for a year now have realised that the area that connects a women’s coach from the general one, actually separates them from each other. Being the distinction only two lovers standing on either side understand. A binary understood only by the man who has to walk from the women’s coach to the general one, when he accidently enters the women’s coach. It’s a gap discovered by a girl who is wearing a dress and feels intimidated by stares when she travels in a general coach.

4. Your metro journey will give you the strangest of all experiences, beginning from the random smiles you will exchange with strangers to sometimes striking a conversation with them. You will witness women quarrelling over seats and women standing together to cover a breastfeeding mother. You might be intrigued to see how everyone is enamoured to a kid’s presence, and how this metaphor of capitalism is a platform for human connections to breed.

5. If you travel from the route I take, your reverie (because day dreaming is inevitable in metro) will soon be broken as you head into the underground line towards Rajiv Chowk, with your own reflection in the glass door. You may end up feeling alienated to your own physical appearance, but that’s okay, I am sure by now you know how to fool yourself.

6. When you finally reach Rajiv Chowk a huge swarm of people will be waiting for you to get out of the metro. Struggle your way out and make sure you don’t leave anything in the there, most importantly, your own self.

7. Finally when you regain your breath feel free to be amazed by the variety you experience there. As you walk along the yellow coloured feet to catch another metro, you may feel the insignificance of your existence in this capsulated world with people of sorts. But don’t worry; just remember that the crowd around you exists, because you do.

8. The next step is to run just like everyone else around you, but if you are not that competitive like me, then you may watch people running and laugh at them for that but remember, the same may happen with you too when you might be running late.

9. And now when you have finally caught the next metro successfully, maybe you can just resume your reverie amidst the pretty quarrels, funny gossip, prayers full of sincerity and banter oozing with love, and wait for your destination to break it again.


To the tea shop near by

Today again I stood beneath the green awning.It was my routine to have tea at this tapri nearby my college and It was certainly the dense awning’s routine to not let my eyes meet the sky, except the few rays of sun that were stubborn enough to sneak.It seemed like a cluster of leaves that never left each other’s hands.
I was in this boys college and the tapri was the chai- sutta place for all of us.Even though I didn’t smoke this place had managed slip in my heart and I came here quite often.

I stretched my neck and walked with the cup of tea in my hand.Walking while looking upwards was one of the strange things I loved to do.
It helped me avoid the world in front, for a world much more beautiful and I had begun to think thwt it was fair to practice this way of walking sometimes.
I took a walk around, trying to make sense of the strange shapes the clouds covered my eyes with. Along with every sip of tea, i found myself emerging more and more into the land of clouds and much away from sky of roads.
Then I returned back, under the awning, as I was strolling looking in upward direction, a collision with a stranger broke my reverie. I was englufed with green under this green roof. I also noticed a rusted green window and green benches.
On one of the benches was occupied by ” “seemingly” two boys while the other, with a “man” and a “woman”, I suppose. However, something common on both the beches were eyes full of affection with affection. Love of, as it were, which type, I know not and neither did i want to. Just the essence that curled them embued the air which reached me as I inhaled.
I had always believed that humans can never be confined into vessels. Just like tea, they change, they move from kettle to glass to floor to sometimes clothes, they fly in vapors and and brew to different colour. They grow.

Suddenly my focus was shifted from them to a sound that came from.above. As i looked upwards, it was a purple sunbird which had stuck its feet in the leaves of this green awning.It was struggling its way out through leaves so hard as though she had been there for hours and just wanted to break free.
She kept on moving to and fro but the leaves continued to grip over her.But this one was stubborn, it didn’t stop moving even for one tiny seconds.
I observed It for sometime and finally found a stem near me.
I used this stem to pull apart the grip of these leaves, pushing through the strength with which they held each other.It was after the third attempt I manged to help the tiny bird find its way, it flapped its crimson wings and flew into the blue sky.
The sunbird and I together had managed to carve a hole into the tight grip of leaves and now finally my eyes could meet the sky as it peeped through the hole.
As I went back to college after completing my tea.I was determined to break through, just like the tiny sunbird and be that (w)hole.
That was the day I finally confessed to my partner who was my bestfriend then that I loved him.

The therapy called : Art 

( A painting that i made today,  which made me realise the beauty and power of art yet again. Though this isn’t a really great one but the therepautic nature of art never fails to manifest itself 🙂 )

Because art gives you moments where you loose yourself  and learn the art of conscious living.

From shackles to wings 

( This is a painting that i made recently ) 

​When the cage is too hard to break,

That everyday is making your smile fade.

But you continue to live like that, 

Fearing the struggle that can drive you mad.

Think about the  freedom beyond that cage,

Because that will give you the strength to find a way out through this maze.

Cage is common to every being , man has always been famous for feigning.

Animal or human , who is there  that is free? 

Bound by insecurities internal and external here stand , we .

Just like the bird we all wish to be free , 

but for that shackles need to transform into wings , 

to break our self created tainted claustrophobic rings.


( A picture clicked by me recently)

Because when the road is full of stones sky gives you hope  . 

When you feel the days are getting low , just give a glance up above and you will catch sight of infinity .

 Peaking through flowers or accompanying the stars,

Holding the sun’s rays and being bird’s home to stay.

Smiling silently  at this little creature .. who is busy counting the perishable stones in his way . Ignoring the sky  who was there all the time.

Dont touch me !

​Don’t touch me if the curves of my heart dont excite you like those of my body.
Don’t touch me if the bare  dirty uncouth feet of mine is something you cannot take.

Don’t touch me if you don’t find the hair on my skin as beautiful as those on my scalp.

Don’t touch me if my sweaty neck is not as alluring as my bare back.

Don’t touch me if the stain on my pants will make  you cringe and not love .

And don’t you dare touch me to curb my curves.

Touch me if you can like the wings touch the birds.

Touch me if you can to embrace my scars, like the sky touches the stars. 

Touch me if you can like the rain touches the mud.

And touch me if you can like the  canvas touches  a brush.

And if you can’t  , then don’t touch me at all.

Messy orderliness

Just like in life, order becomes mundane without mess to adorn it.                                 Chaos embelishes symmetry breaking the monotony.                                                        Its just the camera like perpective from a little distance that we all need , to set things just right.

Coffee Connotations

​In different forms on every table, 
I see how a new story begins to initiate. 

As i sit  on one  of them confiding mine inside the latte coffee by my side,

and a drawing pad trying to doodle something fine. 

In front of me is a bunch of chirpy friends who seem to have met after long,

In this sprinting world whats better than a coffee to cherish their bond.

And there in the corner sits a seemingly a  fledging couple,

Fiddling with each other’s feet with every sip they take.

And just next to their table is a young girl telling the tale of her breakup to her friend,   for her scars seem to crop up with this aroma in the air which is equally bitter as it is sweet much like the life we breathe.

And i see there the  aromas  of love and heart break in  coffee blend.

Just next to them is a women middle aged

Her experiences clear enough  by the wrinkles on her face.

Savouring  the cappicino she had  ordered as if  each other’s  strenghth  they both embrace.

And in another corner is a guy with his ambitious eyes glued to his laptop’s screen   drinking his cold coffee with brewing dreams 

As i turn i see a little girl with tainted  clothes but a face too cute to ignore   staring through the glasses looking with earnesty to this world beyond her reach 

I count the cash in my wallet and decide to bring her inside 

 and offering her a seat i order a coldcoffee and sandwitch hoping it will suffice  

And as she finishes with that content on her tiredface and the happiness in her much longed eyes i bid her good bye

and finally end my doodle with a line 

Coffee isnt just coffee for its a feeling  , a prologue to new stories , to new endings 

That we all  need to discover for our own selves . Cheers !

Myth of trap

( A picture I had clicked trying to capture the beauty of the sky in its unreachable infinity)

Black and blue the birds flew 
sprinting and chirping they had a green hue, 

unlike you and unlike me 

From far away they could see ,

life pass by everyday thought a man sitting in his room.

The bird watched the human as it sat on the bay,

doing things in a seemingly unique way.

From the window that was a prison like divide , both of them couldn’t slay.

Their eyes met and inside were sighs they couldn’t say.

Little did they realised that both of them were soaked  in the sun’s rays . 

Pursuing quests different , which just they could get,

 but enviousness did intersect.