A Quest on Overdrive … :)

An eccentric rambler on life's lessons and mercies, found and lost… :)



Neat, clear, legible.

Shall I
Contain my content
Within them?
Doubts punctuate
The easy distribution
Of the sky of notions
Of clouds-
Storm gatherers.
The bubbling angst
Of liquid molten emotion.

Do I lock my universe
In a grid?
Or go-

Right off it.

Drop by determined drop.
Blur the lines
With my own es-scents.


And let the storm
Pour down
Wear down

That, which would



4 September 2014
(You guessed right – words spiralling out of control, from silence of an exam hall 🙂 )
Pic. Courtesy: Google Image Search 🙂


A Poem, Buried

It came to me
A poem.
Crept into my
Surfaced in the

Softly caressing
With a lover’s touch.

I remember smiling
Then shushing it.
It faded.
(Slept on, with me!)

Then why did I feel
A heaviness
A hurt
Singeing, searing
Under my eyelids
When I woke?

Why do my eyes
Seek it?
Why do I feel
That crushing
Sense of loss?

I buried a poem
In the soft loam
Of lost words.

Weary words that dropped
Overworked, but under-used
Heavy with nuance
Staggering, weighed with
Too much meaning.

Lost thoughts, groping
For expression
Mourn that poem.

Other poems come
Squeeze like tears
Through ink
Asking to fill the void.

I give them space
And try to flatter myself.
Attempt to smile
And live.

In vain.
For, it now comes to me.

I am that poem
I lost.

22 September, 2014
Would you believe this crept through eyelids a few nights ago, and left; revisited during invigilation time, yesterday morning. Too nonsensical, surreal maybe. But a goosebumpy personal favourite for me, now 🙂 🙂



Why friends weren’t born in the family
And family didn’t all turn out to be friends.

How laughter and tears are just the same;
Most times, even anger and love!

How people listen, but seldom understand;
But some understand, even if nothing is said.

How words hurt, and silences heal.
But silences gouge, yet words never heal.

And Life. The biggest of them all.

5 March, 2013
Seriously on the way to being an absurdity 😀


One Day

And just when bone deep exhaustion

In my soul clamours for a break from it all…

A gusty wind picks up, and whooshes through

The curtain, that partly opened window;

The one I tried to shut. Tight.

And out billows tendrils of not just

My stringy hair…

But labored threads of threatening thoughts.

The “What If”s, the regrets, the tiny tenacious lichen-like

Scabs of memories. Of another day.

This gutsy gusty thing. I wish I could be it.


23 July, 2012


Clouded Hopes

That cloud, it grew, as it passed

Over sea, over beach, over valleys and hills…


And burgeoning with the heaviness

Of promise, or was it warning?

It arrived: longed for release.


As did she, looking upward

In empathy. Know the portent

Of that darkness, of that weight

Of expectation, of the helplessness

Of being left, to the

Winds of change.


And while she waited, it blew away.

Was blown away.

Looking longingly after it, she wished

She too could grow wings and follow;

That she too, whimsically could just

Up it and off.


A day later, she heard it rained

Where he was.

Unappeased, she forgave herself.

And waited for the next one.

17 July, 2012


On a random thought, while gmail chatting with Soumya, about a cloud that did not rain here 🙂

Text belowUncanny, the thought that it took me by the scruff and wrote itself here. 😀 The last line says I hoped to read it from him 😀 

On 16 July, 2012:

Soumya-Amused: :
and how is the weather there?

 me: Almost but not quite rainy.. overcast most times… but the intensity of the rains is yet to pick up
07:00 Soumya-Amused: hmm same here.
  but interestingly
  the cloud that goes above your house, the same comes to ys.
  esp the ones that do not pour
07:01 me: Now THAT is a thought 😀
  One should write about it, no?
 Soumya-Amused: Yes yes.
 me: So I’ll read it soon?”
Your turn now, Soumya 🙂