Romance is DEAD.

yes it is,

yes, you’ve read it right,
Where are those long hand written letters,
Where are those chocolates bought with savings,
Where are those sneaky, shyly taken glances,
Where are those anonymous roses,
The answer is,
3feet under the earth,
The grave has been dug 6feet deep,
Romance is half way through it,
You don’t really see men waiting for a woman to reciprocate their love nowadays,
All you hear is
“oh he has a crush on you”
“Oh he’s been following her for days now”
“Oh she’s a bitch, hasn’t been answering my dm’s “
“Oh she’s not that hot and not that fun type”
Where are those men who would ask a girl if she wants someone to walk her home,
Where are those men who would genuinely want to know what a girl really likes,
Where are those men who would literally do anything to see their girl laugh till her stomach hurts and eyes water,
Where are those days when just by accident touching eachother’s hands gave goosebumps,
Or sharing an ice-cream was considered a token of love,
I wish men who would have a heart as pure as the colour to every flower,
As unadulterated as the honey in a honeycomb,
They come by in your life,
Wanting nothing but your happiness and joy and love and effortless smile,
Expecting nothing but love, trust, comfort and warmth in return,
Before romance is 6feet deep into it’s grave,
And it ends up only in books and classic novels,
I want Romance to live fresh breathe,
Rewind those days,
Rewind those emotions,
Rewind the trust in love,
I know for times like today it’s too much to ask for,
But hope is a beautiful thing they say.
I live by it now.

Tommy Shelby

Your pain was new to me,

Your melancholy,

Your emotions were known yet unfelt to me,

You loved and lost,

You again loved and yet lost again,

That hollow that you carried within you,

With Grace couldn’t be seen or felt,

Without Grace,

You were all over the place,

Your love was powerful and strong,

But out of three you were only in love once,

Your Grace gave you that love despite the hardships that you encountered before you left her,

You lived fully with her,

You celebrated every moment with her,

The very smile that your smiled was directly from you heart when you looked at her,

You wanted her to stay,

You’ve already planned an eternity with her in a very short span,

But she left,

Leaving you broken and heartless all over again,

And this time forever,

She was your Grace,

And I bet no one can take her place not even your very darling horse,

When it comes to love,

Now things have changed,

You are not the same Tommy,

But more of a heartless businessman Mr. Shelby,

Well good luck to to you.


I have these,

Silly boundaries around myself,I have built them,

But never thought of making a door,

Or a ladder,

To cross them or penetrate them,

These boundaries were made to define me,

To safeguard myself,

From the rest of the world,

But now i see myself,

Confined in them,

They are too high for me,

I cannot even think of crossing them,

I feel captivated in my own boundaries,

Can you feel me?

These were initially a set of goals,My aspirations,My ambitions,Something I used to look up to,

But now they seem too high,

That my neck hurts,My eyes they go blank,

When i look up to them,

They scare me,

They make me feel unworthy of having built them,

These boundaries have become a loop,

Slowly tightening around my neck,

Suffocating me,

Every night seems to be a nightmare,

Having No motivation,

No support,

I try to climb these walls,

Wound myself,

And bleeding take myself to sleep,

This is useless existence I feel,

An animal can do better than me,

I have no clue why have I been born,

This life seems to be lived in vain,

Everything starts with a rainbow and ends at a ditch,

From soaring high to falling flat faced to the ground,

This is exactly how I depict my existing till date.


An insult,


Birthdays are an insult,

To those who have no idea of what they are supposed to do with their lives,

They are an insulating yet sweet way of telling that “look you are a year older yet a year more stupid”

They make you feel ” it’s about time that you start counting days before you do something more regretful”

You see people who wish you on your birthday are not really concerned about how you are and what you mentally experience,

They just need you to say *Thank you*

And this is exactly what you are supposed to do,

Without vomiting your pain, guilt, that single sentence that has been hanging in you throat to be let out to someone,

And you brush everything aside and like a good happy birthday girl you say ohh you remembered, thank you sooo much,

These wishes are like ” i wished you on your birthday better remember mine and wish me too” in undertones

I personally think we Humans have lost the real touch,

I am too sceptical when it comes to emotions,

For me birthdays mean nothing, nothing that can make me happy,

Maybe I am too pessimistic,

I can agree with you on that,

But birthdays are just an insulating way of telling you that “look it’s time you get a job you are too old, get married you are too old, or it’s time you have babies your are too old, you gonna have menopause, you are too old to be appealing and sexy” all at the same time for different people,

For me it’s nothing but my parents way of saying you gonna be married to a man you dont know and you’ll have to take care of him like a baby for the rest of your already useless life,

I wanted to say something to someone it was something very important to me but i too brushed it away thinking myself to be too loud about my emotions,

Believe me or not,

We are all hypocrites,

We are scared to open up,

And hence this post is being written,

I cannot spill my beans to anyone except this beautiful page,

It’s my beautiful yet pessimistic world.

To, Miss Jean Louis aka Scout ❤️

You are an inspiration,

A little bundle of joy,

A hard nut to crack,

An overnight thinker,


All this and much more,

You got it from Atticus,

You prefer to call him Sir,

Instead of dad,

You love your father,

In ways,



You follow him,

Trust him,

Respect him,


He on the other hand,

Loves you unconditionally,

You are his Star,

His ray of sunshine,

On extremely cloudy days,

Throughout the novel,

You are trying and trying too hard maybe,

To make things work,

You hate,

You hit,

You love,

You hid,

All that you do,

You do with such grace,

Miss Jean Louis,

Your kindness makes me fall for you every time,

You rebellious heart makes me love you even more,

You are not just a character my love,

You are a whole new and beautiful world in yourself,

I will keep you close to my heart,

Forever and ever.

With Love,

From Tannya💫

Exploring myself. Prompt- Explore

It is too hard to accept yourself,
the changes,
that you encounter in yourself,
are something,
you’ve never seen coming,
And yet,
Now they are the most prominent,
part of who you have become,
I know change is the only constant
Will be, your argument to this,
But to me these changes, they make me feel fractured, in many aspects,
you feel too much,
You feel NOTHING,
You’ve been good to yourself,
You’ve become a dictator to yourself,
This is you too,
But sometimes,
You are a social butterfly,
Then Sometimes,
You are a turtle,
Refusing to come out of you shell,
Just because,
you’ve been a butterfly lately,
Life is never,
All black and white,
It’s all shades of Grey,
And you my dear is one of those shade,
Grey is colourful too,
Cry a River,
Build a bridge,
Get over it
They say,
Life was beautiful with black and white Tv’s too,
They say,
You’ve changed,
They say,
I am now lost into,
These nights,
THEY sleep,
At night,
And i am wide awake,
Playing a game of chess with my demons,
Every night,
Only to loose it every night.


No one,
On a serious note,
No one,
Knows what goes on,
On the other side,
You are,
And what not,
And you are ,
All over the place,
Under the sheets,
In the kitchen,
Stuffing all the stress,
Into you stomach,
Feeling trippy,
This us you too,
Even Harder,
When you stay like a ghost,
Away from,
And when someone asks,
How are you,
And you are,
Back from your Grave,
To say,
I am good ,
Hope you are fine too,
No one,
Like literary,
No one,
Ever know you,
You hide,
You hibernate,
You cut off,
You live,
You love,
You survive,
Is this you?
Are you hiding?
Are you afraid?
Are you still alive?
Ask yourself more questions,
You yourself run away,
From answering them,
Life is ironic.
Well have you heard of living dead,


The Tree.

The tree outside my room,

I keep looking at it most of the time,

From my window;

Last night it rained,

While I was looking at this tree,

The only thought I had was,

I want to be as wild as this tree,

The way it dances,

While the rain on it leaves bounces,

The way it almost smiles,

When the thunder shines,

The way it humms a song,

While the wind play along,

I want to be like this tree,

As happy,

As growing,

As flowery,

As helping,

As loving,

As living,

I want to be just like this tree,,

Every day I look at it from my window,

The way it progresses,

From a little plant,


A whole new tree,

It has been quite a journey,

But all the time this baby,

Stood still,

Stood tall,

And never took a toll,

Whatever may come,

Be it heat,




The tree always enjoyed wherever the situation may unwind.

May(pun intended)2020

Say whatever you may,


This world is full of,

Dead wishes and unsung songs,

This May;

Do whatever you may,


This pandemic has swallowed,

This May,

All those lives it has taken,

Are gone forever,

The ones left will never see,

The same May;

Go wherever you may,

To the kitchen

To the balcony

To the bathroom,

Will be your only destination,

Whatever may?

When you finally breakdown in this lockdown,

Call who so ever, you may,


The television,

The laptop,

The moon,

The stars and the beautiful sky,

Will be your only companions,

To console your wailing heart,

This May,

Think whatever you may,

This disease has gulped down its throat many lives,

This May,

But, But, But,

I am surprised at its audacity to promote,


Breaking this class and caste hierarchy,

In this society,

Everyone is a potential victim,

Whatever may,

Look wherever you may,

The sun will rise and so you may,

The SON should rise,

So, pray you may,

Let your prayers be answered,

We all are together in this,

Whatever may,

And will win this too,

Whatever may.

And hope for a beautiful next May.


How do you deal with it?
Do you even deal with it?
Or do you ignore it?
What do you exactly do with it?
Does it haunt you?
I need an answer.
I am constantly failing,
At everything,
Fucking everything,
I am failing,
At being myself,
I cannot really see myself clearly,
To be true,
It’s all blurry,
I am failing to see myself,
I am all over the place
It’s not a mess,
It’s a filthy web that I call myself now,
How do I even deal with myself at this stage,
I have Three companions,
Nothingness,(A Deep Mr. Void)
I cannot say no to them,
You see,
They are my only companions,
I have literally,
Lost all,
Respect and dignity,
For myself in my eyes,
Let alone others,
I am at loss,
Of words,
When I have to describe myself,
There is a blockage,
Inside me,
It wont let me do anything,
I am lagging behind,
Into nothingness;
I was a front bench student,
Who used to be a topper once,
And now look at me,
I cannot even recognize,
what I was,
Who I was,
At one point of time,
This is just not me,
I am lost somewhere,
Trying too hard,
Not at all,
When I think of future,
I don’t see myself anywhere,
I wanted to accomplish something,
Till 24,
It was my only dream,
What I used to call my religion,
And look at me,
Just look at me,
And I am nothing but a wrecking piece of flesh and blood put together by force,
I started with a destination in my mind,
And amidst this web called society and its discourses I lost everything I had,

And a plan that I knew as the back of my hand,
I lost my will,
My will to do anything,
I lost it…
With no hope of getting it back,
I dont even want to try,
I give up.

Day-23 Prompt – Note

Night owl by heart.


Never have I ever been a morning person by heart,

Always been a night owl,

Never have I ever slept early with consent of my heart,

Always been sleeping at 5am as a woe,

Never have I ever slept before the birds started chirping,

Always been a lover of birds song,

Never have I ever missed the sunshine peeping,

Always been a lover of big open windows and curtains drawn,

This morning was also the same,

But a little changed,

I smiled like a baby,

As soon as I woke up,

Kept staring at the sun lit curtains,

Giving me hope for good things to come up,

I smiled like the roses outside my room maybe,

Ran to smell them and meet my four paws babies,

Took a refreshing bath,

With my special body wash,

Tried to complete the to do list like a psychopath,

But what I mess I made in a hurry Oh my GOSSHH,

Leaving everything aside,

Going back to sleep was what I finally decide,

Again slept like a baby keeping all the worries aside,

The day passed by like this,

The night knocked the door,

Again the night owl woke up like this,

And the brain started working like a conquistador.

Day-22 Prompt-Tempo

An Introduction

by Kamala Das

I don’t know politics but I know the names
Of those in power, and can repeat them like
Days of week, or names of months, beginning with Nehru.
I am Indian, very brown, born in Malabar,
I speak three languages, write in
Two, dream in one.
Don’t write in English, they said, English is
Not your mother-tongue. Why not leave
Me alone, critics, friends, visiting cousins,
Every one of you? Why not let me speak in
Any language I like? The language I speak,
Becomes mine, its distortions, its queernesses
All mine, mine alone.
It is half English, halfIndian, funny perhaps, but it is honest,
It is as human as I am human, don’t
You see? It voices my joys, my longings, my
Hopes, and it is useful to me as cawing
Is to crows or roaring to the lions, it
Is human speech, the speech of the mind that is
Here and not there, a mind that sees and hears and
Is aware. Not the deaf, blind speech
Of trees in storm or of monsoon clouds or of rain or the
Incoherent mutterings of the blazing
Funeral pyre. I was child, and later they
Told me I grew, for I became tall, my limbs
Swelled and one or two places sprouted hair.
WhenI asked for love, not knowing what else to ask
For, he drew a youth of sixteen into the
Bedroom and closed the door, He did not beat me
But my sad woman-body felt so beaten.
The weight of my breasts and womb crushed me.
I shrank Pitifully.
Then … I wore a shirt and my
Brother’s trousers, cut my hair short and ignored
My womanliness. Dress in sarees, be girl
Be wife, they said. Be embroiderer, be cook,
Be a quarreller with servants. Fit in. Oh,
Belong, cried the categorizers. Don’t sit
On walls or peep in through our lace-draped windows.
Be Amy, or be Kamala. Or, better
Still, be Madhavikutty. It is time to
Choose a name, a role. Don’t play pretending games.
Don’t play at schizophrenia or be a
Nympho. Don’t cry embarrassingly loud when
Jilted in love … I met a man, loved him. Call
Him not by any name, he is every man
Who wants. a woman, just as I am every
Woman who seeks love. In him . . . the hungry haste
Of rivers, in me . . . the oceans’ tireless
Waiting. Who are you, I ask each and everyone,
The answer is, it is I. Anywhere and,
Everywhere, I see the one who calls himself I
In this world, he is tightly packed like the
Sword in its sheath. It is I who drink lonely
Drinks at twelve, midnight, in hotels of strange towns,
It is I who laugh, it is I who make love
And then, feel shame, it is I who lie dying
With a rattle in my throat. I am sinner,
I am saint. I am the beloved and the
Betrayed. I have no joys that are not yours, no
Aches which are not yours. I too call myself I.

This is my favourite poem, every time I felt helpless, alone, unable to speak or was unable to bleed with ink on a sheet of paper, the lines of this poem come running to my rescue, reminding me that someone felt exactly what I am feeling right now, they remind me that I am not alone and this too shall pass and there will be sunshine and flowers blooming and butterflies.

The literary device named Anaphora has been used in the poem to deepen the pain, feeling of alienation and melancholy that the poet has been struggling with and the sufferings in a patriarchal society, which has been constantly suppressing desires.

It is a confessional poem, the fact that the theme of society, politics, family, sex, marriage, love and an unnamed relationship are all so beautifully blended together that one never really feels disconnected.

Kamala Das has been considered as a pioneer of confessional style of poetry and this poem has been considered as one of her masterpiece. While you go through the poem you can visualise each and every line which makes the poem even more impactful and appeals to the heart and the mind at the very same time. You can feel the pain, the agony, the hate and pangs of hunger for love and for being accepted all at once and you cannot just let go of these emotions, they stay with you for long, longer than you can imagine. Hence the poem is in itself is a masterpiece.

I read this poem for the first time in 2016 and since then it has stayed with me and has become my source of strength and courage.

Day-21 Prompt-Instrument

I would love to learn how to play a Flute. I am a follower of Lord Krishna. As far as I can remember, I always accompanied my father to the temple
and there were huge paintings and sculptures of Lord Krishna playing a flute and all the Gopis swooning around him. It is said that none of the Gopis could resist the sound of Lord Krishna’s flute they would come running to hear him play the flute. It is also said that Lord Krishna would take his cows for grazing while playing the flute and they all followed him and the sound of his flute blindly. There are several myths and stories like this and they always fascinated me as a child. Also during my graduation, the city I used to live in, had a lake, I loved visiting that lake and every evening there used to be an old man who used to play soul soothing flute at the lake. I used to sit there for hours, looking at the people, the lake, the trees and everything the flute playing in the background used to be the best part.
One day when I will finally manage to learn how to play a flute,I will play my favourite song on it that is Bhage re maan from the movie Chameli.
The song begins with a flute being played.

Day-20 Prompt- Music

Dear Mr. Void.

I have been mentioning your name,

In my scribblings,

Time and again,


With spontaneity,


With resentment,


With contempt,

But these are just words you see,

They fail,

Every time,

When I want to open my heart,

And let these words bleed,

All I find is you,




This abyss,

This engulfs me,

Leaves me with nothing,

But a hanging skeleton,

Why can’t you just take a break,

Roam around,

Let my soul fill itself,

With what the world has to offer,

I want to feel roses,

I want that electric blood flow,

Which I feel when I swim,

I want to swim into the deepest Oceans of happiness and success and love and desire,

But since,

I have been your favourite,

Swimming to me has just become melancholic,

You see,

Swimming in a pool was my source of deepest pleasure,

And look what you have done to me now,

You are the reason I cannot breath this air the way I used to,

With a little smile on my face and a pinch of happiness drooling in my heart,

I have to force it inside me now,

The music that i used to call my healer has now become nothing but a rant,

I used to fill my soul with it,

Music gave me wings to fly,

Reason to believe in everything,

Most of all it gave me hope,

But now all I hear is,

Echoing nothingness,


A dead silence,

Everything to me is a noise now,

Even the chirping of birds that i used to love,

Is a noise,

Look, look, look,


Your presence has been quite affective and enough soul searching has been done,

Now please,

Please have mercy and leave me alone,

A humble request,

Dear Mr.Void begone.

Day-19, Prompt- Three

Three Magical Words.

NOTE- I am not going to talk about *I LOVE YOU* or *SORRY, PLEASE, THANK YOU* as the three magical words because let’s accept that we all have read enough about them, so here we go about my three magical words.


Trust me when I say this


more than ever,

We need to learn,

How to say NO,

It is the need of the hour

Say it out loud

To all those who

Try to,

 Sabotage you,

Dominate you,

Suffocate you,

Suppress you,

A clear no to them;

And to yourself too,

A clear no,

To those negative thoughts,

To the self hate,

To self doubt,

To overthinking,

To procrastination,

To self harm,

To reliving painful memories,

To self blame game,

To all the stress eating, (most importantly during this lockdown)

A clear NO;

Try and say NO loudly,

Close the doors and repeat it,


Open the windows and scream on the top of your lungs,

Over and over again

It feels exhilarating my friend;

A clear no is always a better,


A mind full of,

Oh no,

Hell no,


Oh God no,

Life never asks for consent my friend,

(before well…You know what it does)

But gives you enough chances,

To learn how to say NO,

So better learn to say NO,


It’s too late,

And you do not have a clue.,

Of what to do,


Where to go,

And you are stuck in a world full of,

What ifs.