Design a site like this with
Get started

May – A Ghazal

April ended and May just started. I want to write a ghazal for the month of May.
May all of you reading this be blessed with more books to read.😂😉

It’s that time of the year where the sun is at the top.
Fruits, tender coconut and water are all in peak demand this May.

Birds, just born, old age people mostly rest this May.
Even the less affected tends to get the most affected this May.

It’s been a month since the financial year has started.
All accounts start flowing this May.

Water becomes inevitable to the most evitable this May.
Summer holidays are for a reason every May.

What are you going to do this May, Rohini?
Going to pour all my thoughts into the paper this May.

Mostly Obsessed,

P.S. Well, this is my own version of ghazal. So, It doesn’t necessarily follow the traditional pattern of writing ghazals. 😅😙

Let’s Celebrate – National Poetry Writing Month🎉

Hi Guys! Hope you all are doing great! It’s national poetry writing month (NaPoWriMo) which begins on the 1st of April and runs throughout the month. I know I’m late but “better late than never”. So, I want to share the happiness of writing poems with everyone.

My poems are spread throughout,
Like icing on the cake.
So, I neither cut it,
Nor eat it.
Just give it to you.

My poems are spread throughout,
Like rainwater on the earth.
So, I neither waste it,
Nor leave it.
Just save it for you.

My Poems are spread throughout
Like clouds in the sky.
So, I’m neither above it,
Nor in it.
Just showering some rains for you.

My poems are spread throughout,
(Will spread throughout) Like fire.
So, I neither pass it,
Nor burn with it.
Just give the right warmth to you.

My poems are spread throughout,
Like air, everywhere.
So, I’m neither without it,
Nor can be without it.
Just always with you, within you.

Always for poetry,

NaPoWriMo Day 30: To be a Poet

We are on the last day of National Poetry Writing Month. It’s been an exiciting journey to write poems an entire month and share it with wonderful readers. So, I’m with my last poem for the month. Nevertheless, the journey of writing poems will continue.

To be a Poet,
Is to walk through the roads
one hasn’t explored before.
To be a Poet,
Is to knit the thread of words and
weave into fine saree to be draped.
To be a Poet,
Is to imagine the impossible.
To be a Poet,
Is to breathe through words.

To be a Poet,
Is to make people walk into the world of rhythm.
To be a Poet,
Is to drench in rain without sky.
To be a Poet,
Is to feel the petrichor without rain.
To be a Poet,
Is to feel the fragrance without flower.

To be a Poet,
Is to love and feel loved.
To be a Poet,
Is to feel gifted.
To be a Poet,
Is to splash colorful words
to paint a beautiful poem.
To be a Poet,
Is to have a timeless
devotion to everything around.

To be a Poet,
Is a bless and bliss.
To be a Poet,
Is to walk through the river,
to reach the ocean.
To be a Poet,
Is to live on one’s own world.
To be a Poet,
Is to be simple,
yet live luxuriously.

Journey continues,


Hi guys! Immediately, as you saw the title CORONA you might think i’m going to write some article on corona etc. But that’s actually not the case. Already social media and other news channels are flooded with news about corona. I thought why not write a ghazal on corona. Yes, you read it right. A GHAZAL.


Interviews postponed, employees working from home due to corona.
Social distancing makes a lot of sense due to corona.

Enjoying doing my hobbies to the greatest extent due to corona.
Newspaper, Television and social media are flooded about corona.

A single sneeze during corona sends shivers down the spine.
Self-Hygiene is the best way to take care of oneself during corona.

Hats off to doctors and nurses who spend days and nights through their services.
Scientists are trying to find some vaccines for corona.

Share market, Small scale organizations are hit due to corona.
Old age people, Children are the most easily to be affected due to corona.

People get to know who their neighbours are due to corona.
Many lives all around the world are lost due to corona.

Lock down, section 144 imposed in different parts of the world due to corona.
Animals are having their own freedom due to corona.

Aren’t you feeling bored sitting at home, Rohini?
Connecting to my readers through a ghazal due to corona.

With great obsession,

World Poetry Day (21st March)

Hi guys! World Poetry Day just got over. So I thought I would share one of my own poems.


Few find something in me,
Few just flip,
Few just glance,
Few just stare,
Few underline,
But very few, observe, feel, breathe,
Take a moment to experience what I am
And I am everything for those fall in
love with me.
A forever companion.

Your’s Lovingly,

Poem(s) for You

The many roads to cross,
The many people who pass,
The many winds that blow,
The many eyes that look,
The many background voice that plays,
Nevertheless of what happens around
The only rhythm that keeps beating in my heart is

The many clocks that tick,
The many lips that smile,
The many moons that come at night,
The many suns that shine bright,
The many stars that glow,
The many water that flow,
Nevertheless of what happens around
The only rhythm that keeps beating in my heart is

The many heads that turn,
The many hearts that yearn,
The many hands that touch,
The many dramas that happen,
Nevertheless of what happens around
The only rhythm that keeps beating in my heart is

The many thinking that happens in my mind,
The many songs that I sing by heart,
The much anger that I get,
The many smiles that bloom on my face,
Everything that is happening and happens to be,
Nevertheless, nonetheless, of what happens around and within,
The only rhythm that keeps beating in my heart is

Because of You,
Amidst You,
Despite You,
For You,
Forever You.

Not me it’s You,

An Ode to the Many Questions – Part 2

Why am I constantly thinking about you?
Why am I missing you?
Where were you so far?
(As I type this, a song plays in the background
which resonates much with the moment)
Why do I feel like I need you near me?
Why am I always waiting for you?
Why is my mind and heart, longing for you?
Why did I get attracted to you?
Why am I writing poems about you?
Why am I writing poems for you?
Why are these poems being born?
Is this a blessing or a curse?
Or just both?

Figuring out something,

An Ode to the Many Questions

Who are you?
When did you come into my mind
penetrated my heart?
Now I have built a small world for you
where I don’t know whether we are going to live together
or am I going to die all alone?
(As I pause to write this my backspace
blinks at me)
Have I lost in the forest “you”?
Am I trying to find myself through “you”?
Have I lost the very map of ‘myself’ in the name of love?
What is the actual path for our hearts to unite?
Is it in the many times our eyes meet?
Is it in the many times I call your name?
Is it in the many times we exchange messages?
Is it in the many times we speak to each other?
Is it in the many times where I try to have
some silent conversations with you?
Where is it actually?
Where are you?
Where am I?
Seems like everything I had,
is lost
Nothing is left only but “you”.

With many questions,

Sunburn Sunday

I walk along your footsteps
on the sands of the beach,
Like how a child follows a mother.
But I’m neither your child,
Nor you my mother.
But I feel like I have lost you
Lost in you.
Like how a child loses its mother
when a child loses the path.
But it’s a little different in my case
I follow you and lost in you, lost you.
Lots youuuuuu….
Lots youuuuuu…
Lots of youuuu…
A child never loses itself in a mother’s love
But I feel like I have lost myself
by falling in love with you.
May be sun wants to soak itself in me
and ruined my face
I got soaked in you
and ruined my heart.
You are my lullaby,
You are my musing,
You are my nostalgia,
I will ever cherish
and ever want to cherish.
As I hold your hands for balance,
I feel like I want that forever in my life.
Maybe in the next birth
at least be my father
or be my child this birth,
even if not love(r).

Trying to find myself,

Love Whispers

As you lie down near,
I want to whisper this poem in your ear.
You are my biggest adventure,
You are my biggest secret,
You are my greatest favorite,
You are my truest truth,
You are my sweetest sweet,
You are my loveliest love,
You are my heartiest heart,
You are the kissiest kiss,
You are the prettiest pretty,
You are the yummiest yum,
You are the twistiest twist,
You are the best mistake
I ever want to make
I’ll ever make.
I want to whisper this poem in your ear……
As you lie down near……
Lie down near…..

Yes but no,

Love – A Ghazal

You feel more delicate and more strong when you are in Love.
Your mind is constantly thinking when you are in Love.

Time to delve into more poems in the upcoming days.
I wish to spend more time with something I love.

You resonate with almost every other song when you are in Love.
Every tune might leave a dent in your heart when you are in Love.

Even silence has more things to tell when you are in Love.
You are in your own world when you are in Love.

Everything is a poem around you when you are in Love.
You turn out to be a writer when you are in Love.

Living gets more difficult when you are in Love.
Life makes more sense when you are in Love.

What other experiences do you get being in love, oh Rohini?
You start writing more poems like this when you are in Love.

Trying to make sense,

To the one in my Aorta

You are in the world within me,
the world within me,
which I have never shown to anyone,
Nor will ever show.
My eyes speak a thousand words to you,
which your ears will never hear,
Nor your heart will ever understand.
The tree(s) doesn't think of the leaves it shed
but the leaves will always remember the tree(s)
it lived.
Maybe my age's fault (but I cherish it)
Maybe your fault (there's no Ctrl Z option)
I'm happy that we are able to catch up
for most days in a week.
People say Crush means,
something beyond friendship
something below love.
But what do you call "something beyond love"?
Do you have a name for it?
As I write this,
mosquito sits on my screen
to have a bite of this poem
or maybe a bite of you.
But I kill it,
just like how

Missing Myself,

My Happiness

when the
literature festivals were happening
the whole space lit
with books, authors, readers
and some spectators in between.

I walk, walk and walk,
sit and gaze at the many leaves in the tree
some green, some yellow
some breeze touches my face
some my heart.

Some books for breakfast
Some writing for lunch
Some poems for dinner
Some money to spend
Some prayers to live
Live peacefully,
Live happily.

Writing, to live and to love

The Art of Feelings

You would have walked many a million steps in this world,
Sometimes wounded, sometimes healed,
Sometimes you got to walk despite the wound,
Sometimes you walk despite the wound.

You would have heard people say,
Happiness and sadness should be treated equally
Or one should remain calm and composed in both situations.
But oh fella! Is this possible to be so being born as a human being?
It’s difficult, I understand.

You miss someone so deeply,
You know you are there in their heart
and they in your heart.
Yet you wish they might be
near you,
with you.
They might become God to you sometimes
They will always be there “for you”.
You can feel them, but cannot see them.

You want to keep away from toxic relations
You keep away, but they come near quoting certain reasons.
But you might feel like saying “hey look, I don’t care about you, please keep away!
Yet sometimes we fuck with our own selves
and with the same toxic others in the name of relations.

You are at home,
Yet you feel you are far away from it
Far away from the people in it.
This art of feeling is so difficult to describe
Or is this a feeling at all?

Wounded and Healed, Healed and Wounded,


Not a bag of toys
But a single doll
To make memories with,
To eat with,
To sleep with,
To play with,
To cherish childhood with.

It doesn’t have to be
a bouquet of flowers,
It could be,
One little flower in a pot
or a few flowers in a small garden.

Not an elaborate smile
But a sigh of relief at least.
Not a heavy rainfall
But the waves of the ocean
that touches the shore.

It doesn’t have to be
a fixed deposit for a lifetime
But a small insurance premium
that will save many lives in time.

Not an anthology
But a small poem like this
That will help and make better
days to come.

This isn’t a result but a doorway
towards the next step in the journey
and a way in which many journeys may begin.

With many prayers and hope,

P.S. The inspiration behind this poem was drawn from “Praying by Mary Oliver”. Both the poems have been written and can be understood and perceived from different perspectives. Hope you all like reading it.