RIP '23 year old paramedic'

Dear Mr. President's son and every other misogynist patriarchs (men, women & everyone in between)

Last night I had an epiphany
I figured what dented-painted means
I realised how dented-painted I am
Considering I woke up screaming from a nightmare
Bawling. Disgusted. Scared.
As I walk down my locality
Familiar shops
I get heckled by men 
And even though my brother is with me
All I can remember of the dream
Is the unwanted touch, my screams
And the look of desperation on my brother's face.

I am dented-painted.
I was dented as a child
As are a lot of women I know.
And some men too.
I have painted my thoughts
I have painted my memories
I have painted my body
I have painted my society
And yet with an overdose on the Delhi rape case
I wake up in the middle of the night
Wanting to rip my breast away
From my body
So that there will be no more denting.

I am dented painted.
So is my best friend, my lover
My colleague, my teacher
My therapist, my boss
My favourite author, the childhood friend
My sister, my sister-in-law
We are all dented.
Used. Banged. Damaged. Goods.
Most probably really young
When we were not 'soliciting'
As you would like to believe.

I am dented-painted,
Painted, because
The only reason I bravely walk the streets
Of any city I've lived in
Is because I believe what worst can happen
Has happened.
I'm dented yet again though
Because while I'm battling
My post nightmare insomnia
I stay awake to know that
Our 23 year old paramedic rape victim
Doesn't have it in her anymore to
Stay Alive.
RIP!

apocalypse

I live with a death wish
Today.
The world hasn't ended
And I realise I was looking forward for it to.
I live with blood-thirst
Today.
The stench of rusting iron
Rising in me wields daggers.
I desire apocalypse
Today.
I walk to it if it doesn't come my way.
Slit my throat, slit my wrist, bleed.
I cry murder
Today.
Even though murder
Wouldn't quench my need for justice.
I see my sisters rise
Today.
But I see innumerable
Hands ready to pull her down, shut her up.
I want justice
Today.
Slay my rapist, slay them who quieten me,
Slay my murderer, slay me for remaining alive.

Dancee

You swept me off my feet
Danced with me
And beckoned me to
Dream a little dream
Of you.

Breathe

Fingers crave
Arms ache
Wanting
To hold
To touch
To reach out
And melt into you.

While your house breathes louder
And I hold my breathe
At the sight of you!

A remedy for Anger

What's a remedy for anger
Anger that leaves you numb
Twists
Like a knife deeply wedged
In your gut.
Anger that leaves you impotent
Anger that torments you
With lust for blood
With red dreams of
Slit throats spurting.
Anger at lives
Futile
For it ends
At the hands of your helplessness.
Anger for the those
Who don't care enough
Who sleepwalk through existence.

This knife I twist further
To quench my blood thirst.

CloudCity

This city
That smells
Of temple smoke
Autorickshaw exhaust
And the dampness of rain.
This city
Trains screaming afar
Through the mumbles
Of incessant raindrops
Singing a comforting lullaby.
This city
Overcast
That tell stories.
Clouds, a messenger
From yesterday
For today.
This city
Green with envy
Yet content with self
In it's cold monsoon morning
Tazes away remains of sleep
From my dreary eyes.
This city
Forces out
The love in me
Tosses it around
And envelopes me
Back in it.

Pursuit of Poetry

On a day like today
When my arms want to give away
Feet hurt with immobility
Sleep rules every emotion
Every emotion becomes a drag
Every moment is worse than a wait
For unrequited love
For the day seems to extend
Beyond my want to breathe.
On a day like today
I wonder
If you can hear me loud and clear.
Can you?