This one is for all the women bosses out there!


I am at a superior position, I hope you realize

For that I do not have to apologize

I have spent more years, acquired more grey hair

In this profession compared to you, thus it is fair

That, despite my gender and stature petite

I call the shots, why do you aim to compete

With me, or argue with me at every step of the way

You would not dream of doing that any day

If your superior were a man, I guess

I am disheartened that you cannot process

The fact that your boss can a woman be

This is still a patriarchal society..

I have proved my mettle by working my way

To the top, yet I feel compelled every day

To prove my competence emphatically


Only to be labeled automatically

As bossy and difficult to work with-

While I keep trying to tackle the monolith

Of male dominance at positions highest

There are times when I feel the zest

For my profession diminishing, but then I remind

Myself to ignore your behavior of this kind

I know I am capable, I have set my eyes

On the glass ceiling- the ultimate prize

That I aspire towards; your criticism unfair

Cannot deprive me of my rightful share


Whether you like it or not, know it is true

In your career you will encounter women bosses too!















The Weight of Expectations

istanbul girl

She had a story to tell, and for writing, a flair

She conjured up characters in thin air

And wove a yarn in a voice so original

In a format completely nontraditional

That when the first publisher read her manuscript

It would be a success- he did predict

The book was released- he was proved right

She became a celebrity overnight

As millions of copies quickly sold worldwide

She came to take recognition in her stride

Offers of contracts for her second book were many

She signed up quickly, but could not get ideas any

That were intriguing enough to make her spin a story

Expectations were high, and she did worry

About being labeled a one-book wonder

She did not wish to lose her thunder


Unlike the first time when her creativity had been

Unshackled, untarnished, unseen

This time the weight of expectations was upon her

Considering that, she still did deliver

Another masterpiece, not quite as distinctive

Yet up to readers’ expectations it did live

With that she became an acclaimed author

Expected to produce a book every year..


She became adept at churning out tales

Her books still did well, they did not fail

To deliver to her loyal readers what they desired

However she was now getting tired

Of writing similar stuff, her stories were formulaic

The zest was gone, her prose was now prosaic

The critics had moved on, there was plenty of talent around

Lavish praise for her books was no longer to be found


She continued to write, uninspired, bound by obligation

To her publishers and readers, despite her reservations

Until one day she read a scathing (but true) criticism

Of her new novel, she was forced to look through that prism

And realized writing had taken the shape of a chore

Her plots were contrived, they were not  interesting anymore

She decided then that she had to take a break

For herself, and for her craft’s sake..


Five years  later, after her self-imposed exile

She made an impressive comeback in style

With her masterpiece, the best that she had yet written

Readers and critics alike were smitten

To her, the reason behind this success was clear

She had removed herself from expectations, let go of fear

For the creative process does not work well under duress

An artist needs complete freedom to express..

















Writer’s block


The well of words has run dry, it appears

I am here facing my biggest fear

The dreaded writer’s block has invaded

Every creative bone, all my ideas have faded

Away from my mind-a reminder on facebook I see

That I have not posted anything on my blog recently

Jolting me into action, forcing me to think

About what to write, ideas do not appear in a blink..


So I google “ideas for poems” and try to find

A way to inspire my lethargic, vapid mind

I try the first suggestion and take a glance

Outside my window, and perchance

The view is beautiful, all covered in snow

I try to write about winter, but  ideas do not flow

I try the second prompt on the list, it says-

Start with a quotation and take it your way

So I try to recall all the quotes I know

Search for some too, but unfortunately so

Further inspiration eludes me completely

I keep going down the list, just to see

If inspiration would strike me somewhere

That does not happen, I am in despair

Looks like a new poem is not going to be

Written anytime soon by me..

As I struggled, the “eureka” moment came to me 

I decided to describe my writer’s block, you see

The result is there for everyone to appraise

I had the will to write, so I found ways!










Cure sometimestreat often, comfort always.” – Hippocrates

Blood_lettingI know you are here in my clinic today

Looking for relief- even before you say

Something, I know you are in pain

I hate to disappoint you again

The unfortunate truth is; as a specialist of the heart

I am not quite prepared to treat another body part

Your legs hurt, you tell me, and I have ruled out

Every heart-related cause I could think about

I know that I am going to make you feel

Worse by giving you my usual spiel

About the benefits of exercise on your heart 

Forgoing that advice at present would be smart

Infact, when you ask for pain medication, I have an excuse

Pain-killers make heart failure worse, so I refuse

To give you relief from the symptom that bothers you

At least your heart disease is stable, that much is true..



You and I,  both leave the examination room dissatisfied

Your pain persists, I’ve taken a blow to my pride

How I wish you had symptoms with which I could deal

Or have a solution to your problem somehow revealed

It bothers me much more than I am willing to admit, I confess

My failure to alleviate your suffering overshadows any success

That I have had today- because I could offer to you

Neither cure, nor treatment, nor comfort today- it’s true

I am a specialist with years of training behind me

In treating  afflictions like yours, I should have mastery…

Yet at my ignorance I am humbled again

I send a silent prayer heavenward for relief of your pain.

(Image source: wikimedia commons)










Carpe Diem


This is the break that I clearly need-

She said to herself, settling down to read

An interesting book in a cosy corner

Of her hotel room, she had left behind her

The mayhem of her life as a homemaker,

A busy career woman, and a mother..

Teetering at the edge of a major burnout

She had sought refuge here, without

Telling her family why and where

She had gone, of course she did take care

To let them know she would be gone for a day

She needed a break, and there seemed no other way..


Her mind, however, conditioned to place

The needs of her family first, had difficulty making space

For the idea of snatching away from her family

A day for herself- she found it difficult to be guilt-free

Checking into a hotel for a night all alone

Was something she still couldn’t believe she had done

She worried if her precious children were all right

Without her being at home to tuck them in at night

Although this escape she had justified to herself before

This was a selfish move- said a voice she could not ignore..


While she tried to relax, still feeling conflicted

She received a text message, at first she resisted

Looking at it, afraid that something at home 

Was not quite right- but finally picked up the phone-

“Carpe diem!” the text from her husband said

That everything was fine at home came in another text

Relieved, she put all her worries aside

She would seize the day, and go for the ride

Today was the day, her rare chance to unwind

To rejuvenate her tired body and mind.





Victim no more

Domestic Violence and Abuse as a AbstractShe walked in hurried steps, furtively

After having lied, out of habit, glibly

About the bruise visible on her forearm-

No one could know about the bodily harm

Inflicted on her most days by her spouse-

This shameful secret belonged inside the house

They were educated, liberal and well to do

It was universally accepted as true

That such things did not happen in the society

That she inhabited, everyone behaved with propriety..

Beneath skilful make-up,  tasteful scarves and  long sleeves 

Her secret was safely ensconced, or so she believed

Besides, she was clumsy at times, this could not be tolerated

By an important person like her husband, who berated

Her for falling short of his expectations every day

It was her fault after all, she had nothing in her defence to say



This time things had gone too far

The abuse had left more than just a scar

Her facial bones were fractured; with a deformed face

To hide her injuries, she had no place

Seeing the ER nurse’s expression she realized

Her shameful secret was revealed to public eyes

Within minutes she was seeing a counselor who specialized

In domestic abuse- even this professional was surprised

That she had escaped attention for so long-

What she had been tolerating was far too wrong..


It was not easy to stand up to her abuser

At times courage threatened to leave her

With help from a strong group of women

She fought for her rights, and made a decision

To leave the abusive relationship before it was late

She learnt to believe she could have better fate

Today she works for victims of domestic abuse

Her experience she has put to good use

Abuse hides in plain sight, she knows

She strives to release women from its throes.


(Image source:














Size of my dreams

dreamcatcherSome days my dreams are

Vast, stretching far

Beyond the horizon, bursting

With ambition, my soul thirsting

For fame, fortune, grandeur-

Some days these things hold their allure

Enticing me- I run in their pursuit

Until my mind makes an observation astute

That they are dreams, improbable it might be

For them, the light of the day to see..


Some days when I am lonely

In my dreams I just long to be

Surrounded by love and laughter

Familial bonds are what I lust after

I dream of my family being in the same place

Not separated in time and space..

Though this dream is not as rich in ambition

The idea of one big happy family is still utopian..


Some days my dreams shrink some more

Swathed in exhaustion, my limbs feeling sore

Constantly running on the hamster wheel

My senses are blunted, benumbed I feel

All I can dream of is a pillow to sleep

In a dreamless slumber, a sleep so deep

It erases all vestiges of consciousness

I wake up rested, and then- I confess-

My dreams take the expansive route again

I start chasing them once more, often in vain..

(Image source: