Who am I?

“You may know me, but you have no idea who I am.” Neither do I. Tsk tsk.

I know naiveness is not exactly a word and my English teacher would cringe in pain if she sees me writing naiveness.

That said, many many people have called me naive. I just don’t get it. I trust and I get cheated. I believe everyone to be like me – as within so without. My face is like a mirror, reflecting my worst fears and my best thoughts. Try as I might, I fail to put a veil across my face. For example, I went to the dentist recently. She was the sweeeeeeeeeeeeetest dentist I ever met (not that I have met too many of them). Awwww she had hand written testimonials all over her clinic’s walls. She was so careful and so worried for me. She cajoled me, cooed with me and cured me in a jiffy. Well, me being me, I was bowled over by her compassion. Trust me, the gaaliyan I got –😛 Baby this is called PR. Baby not as in Babe Baby, but little baby, not grown up baby… Eeeee!! I. Believe. Everyone. Period. I deserve to be spanked.

Contrary to this, people also tell me that they don’t understand me. I am a puzzle to them. They are not able to gauge me. Do I bask in this anonymity? Absolutely I do. I have no idea why people can not gauge me, but I love the idea itself.🙂

Being a mystery is a mystery in itself, for I don’t really try – it usually happens naturally. And so very naturally that I wouldn’t even know how I come across to others.

I am a snob. I am too high headed. I am headstrong. I am like a man!! He he he… so much for feminity and liberation. Trust me, it’s a blast. Contrary to this, I love pinks and mauves and whites. Oooh I am soooo girlie that even pink feels less girlish in my presence.  Another paradox. Don’t blame me. I have no idea.

If one were to ask me, that you are so transparent about your feelings, how is it that people are not able to understand you? Well, I may reply with a poker face, I don’t know.

I absolutely don’t know.

Self introspection leads to nothing. Questioning leads to more questions.

Who am I?

I am just myself.

As within, so without.



Love, they say, is Euphoria

Many a times, there is nothing one can give another. Just by being themselves.

Just being.

Neither do we take nor do we give. It’s all destiny.

Just by being, we add value to another.

Like waves that merge into one another, life moves on, scrambles, unscrambles, merges, unmerges, and when you come to your senses, those waves that were your best friends are no more there. Those pieces of puzzles that fit so perfectly that some believed they had found their other half, some believed that they had found that perfect hand for the glove, everything is no more there. The pieces of puzzle unscrambled themselves and reassembled with other pieces – perfectly. Those waves merged into others – in perfect symphony.

And life goes on.

Pages of time turn one by one, from the right to left. As future unfolds, there is just one truth. No one can be bound. No one is free. No one can be held. No one is abandoned. No one can be defended, no one supported.

Ages go by, but a peek into the eons that have passed and no one ever said, I found salvation. Who finds salvation? What is it? Salvation for a thirsty soul is but a drop of water, for a hungry soul, is but a morsel of food. Salvation for a love besotten maiden is but a glance of affection, for the other half, is but one nod of soul.

The book of life, is an unending epic. There is no end, neither is there a beginning to it. Is it Shiva? It may not be. Is it Infinity? It may not be. Is it Zero, naught? It may not be. Has anyone ever seen it, measured it, dived into its depths?

Many think they have. No one did. No one.

For when the end comes, there wouldn’t be anyone to speak, and anyone to hear. There wouldn’t be the heard, and the spoken. There wouldn’t be the seen and the felt.

It’d just be one. Black.

When rains spelt love

Here is one of my favourite songs on rain:


Once upon a time, rains spelt love.

Teenagers to adults loved rains because they signified the onset of tea and snacks evenings.

Poetry was written on rains.

I wrote poetry on the rains.

Today, however, I hate rains. I shouldn’t be making such a hard hitting statement. But rains today mean danger. Floods. Destruction. Losses.

Everywhere, rains leave a trail of havoc in their wake.

Nature is not to blame though.

The governments, the administration, the state politicians – who all to name?

The Bird of Paradise – India, where there should never have been a water problem, neither should there have been a drought, we see both the problems happening simultaneously. While regions are being flooded, some states still face water problems and drought.

So today, come rainy season, and my heart flutters, not in love, but in fear that the news may bring another disaster every day.

Awaiting your arrival

I never knew I wanted you until I got you

I awaited your arrival until you blew me through

It was a silent night by the sea

When you held my hand in yours to see

If I would feel the warmth in it

Made me feel what love unspoken can be

I wasn’t even sure what that moment could be.

Love swept me off my feet

Before I could realise my own defeat

I had lost hope, living a painful death

But you caught hold of that little girlette

Let me go, she screamed in her girlie voice

You didn’t – you just said that’s not why I held your hand

One does not love to leave and one who leaves,

Was never so sure of Love, my love.

I fall in love with you each day

Every second etches our stories into sands of time

I raise my eyes in astounding respect

You are what no one could ever expect

Not of all the people, I, the little lost soul,

You are all that I never knew I always wanted.

People betrayed me, some used me, discarded me

But you, you, uplifted me beyond all that weakness

Showed me my divinity, my true pure soul

And made me fall in love with my own self.

As I awaited your arrival, innocent

You came riding the waves of the sea.

Your acceptance was my destiny

Your arrival was my flight across the sea

Today, I thank you, my love, my knight,

For holding my hand, for being just mine.







I am unbroken when you touch me to say I am there.

I am unbroken when you look into my eyes and show me that you care.

I am unbroken when you weep in my pain,

I am unbroken when you wipe my tears away

I am unbroken when you cup my cheeks in your palms

And tell me, “You know how much I love you?”

I am unbroken when you make my family whole

Unbroken when you make every wish come true

Unbroken when we make surprise plans

Unbroken when you love me crazy

Unbroken when you pull my leg and make me crazy

Unbroken when you are next to me, side by side,

In every path of life, every strife

You take me here, you take me there,

Unbroken when you care so much, you take me everywhere

Unbroken when you call them family

Tell them “I am there” and mean it from your heart.

Unbroken when you make my numbness your challenge

Unbroken when you pull me out and make me feel

The pit is dark and it’s deep, too deep

Unbroken when I invariably see your hand beckoning to me

No pit’s so deep that your benign eyes don’t call me

No challenge so tough that we can’t make it together

Yes this poem, Unbroken, is very personal.

I asked for A Walk into the Woods

I got the woods for a beautiful home

I can take a walk in the woods every day now

And what’s more, hand in hand with you, we go.

Unbroken is how you have turned me into,

Piece by piece, you wove my shattered bits.

Unbroken I am today because it was you

I never thought there’d be love as pure as you.

Unbroken is our past, unbroken our records

Unbroken we march, unbroken we unite.

It’s my promise to you, my love

Unbroken is how you’ll see me – A vow.


The Void


I see them all talking
Voices from every side of me
My head starts spinning
And sweet void closes in.
In this sweet void, I see
A world of never ending glee
Sometimes it’s also black
Then I take time to come back

Sometimes, I am quiet. Silence.
Meditating, guided only. Yet,
The voice disappears. Comes dread
The void, sweet void closes in, quick.
This time, it’s a fall – a never ending fall.
I see myself parallel to the ground
Only, the ground is nowhere. I am in air.
Black beneath me, no lights at all.
It engulfs me, the black, the fall, the void.

I am playing with colors, creating art.
Makes me happy, dance with joy.
As my brush dances on paper, wet and dry
Wet and dry. There comes the sweet void.
My brush keeps moving, art keeps happening
But my void keeps me company. Throughout.
As I think what to create, my void eggs me on.
And I feel elevated. Anxious but elevated.
The art just like that, gets created.

I am done with the day, all chores perfect
I am tired and spent, great day well spent.
I have to sleep, but sleep eludes me
There is an anxious voice inside of me
It says do something, don’t sleep
Sleep wastes minutes and hours, don’t sleep
Do something, something, something
Take a brush, a needle or a crochet hook
Do something, don’t let the day end
And sweet void slips in again.

Sweet void, oh sweet void
When will you leave me and go on your way?
Sweet void, don’t haunt me
For I just don’t want you to stay.
Sweet void, you can’t win with me
I am stronger with great kith and kin.
I am aware now, much much aware
So I catch you red-handed when you
Dawn upon me. No, you can’t escape.
That was then, when I didn’t see you
Never knew you existed all through.
This is now, today and tomorrow
I will catch you, each time bigger you grow.
Go Go Go, sweet void go
On your way, to sweet void, go.

(c) Punam J R
All Rights Reserved

Robots in those days

In a world of machines

In a world of machines

In a world of machines,
We strive to emote
We emote through smileys
And forget to be whole.

In a world of machines,
We try to be fair,
We judge via Internet
And mistake it a great flair

In a world of machines,
We share our blues
Thinking all those other hues
Will bring home joys true.

In a world of machines,
We shake a leg to YouTube
While we enjoy a stationary dance
We put on weight huge

In a world of machines,
We buy stuff online
While we love those discounts
The quality is a crime!!

In a world of machines,
We connect our smart phones too.
While I-pads and mac books
Play a coochie coo

In a world of machines,
We want artificial intelligence too
We wish a robot in the kitchen
To cook our tasty food

In a world of machines,
We wish a reality on unreal ‘things’
When virtual projects a scene
We introject its emotions and feelings.

What’s real, what’s not?
When smart homes become true
Will we ever be ‘unslaved’
From this world untrue?

Pic Credits

  1. By HumanroboOwn work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=18947366
  2. By AlejandroLinaresGarciaOwn work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16860633