Rejoicing a victory with loud cheers,

Do you realise the cost that others have paid?

Those nameless and faceless victims,

Would you care to remember their names? Or ask about their once dreams? 

These made up boundaries of made up countries, 

Leave ugly incisions across the canvas of humanity. 

You learn to hate countless people you have never met. 

And the grand castles of pride are built on this indoctrination,

Invisible to the emaciated, who dare ask, ‘What’s in it for us?’

Safe and sound in swanky cities,

Do you ever wonder what those frontline soldiers think? 

In a chance casual interaction, across the barbed fences;

What if, one day, they discover love or friendship that shatters these imaginary walls that keep us within. 

© YellowStylo


The Sign of the Moon #writephoto

A dazzling orb hops across the horizon,

Like a faithful pet,

To keep vigil through the night.

Quietly, it tip toes across the cloudy skies,

Searching for someone to reciprocate its ethereal light, 

Eager for any sign of life. 

Alas! The earthly world is sleeping, 

And the cold night is leisurely breezing. 

The forests are buried in their cosy blanket of darkness,

And the invisible animals cry and howl and buzz,

Yet others are hiding inside their inconspicuous caves, 

Who knows whether they are still awake? 

As the moon continues to prance across the skies, 

Searching for some sign of highs.

It’s charmed by a lone gleaming wink from afar. 

A tip of a hat from a dilapidated bar,

A sign of companionship,

And the moon smiles, at last. 

© YellowStylo

For Sue Vincent’s #writephoto challenge.


The poison of tranquil is beckoning,

As our world falls apart, 

The colourless violence screams,

Tired and drooping, our eyes long to see the blues and the greens.

Shouldn’t reality be real? 

This faux truth is sickening, 

A forbidden hibernation is welcoming. 

An illusion of tranquil swallows the pain,

Can you see them now?

Those few trees, as they gather around a serene pond, 



Like old friends during a school break. 

The breathing evens out,

And the scars run to hide,

The eyes drink the sweet nectar of light,

And the ears sleep to the music of the night,

Sung by the babbles of the ghost pond. 

But the time flies by too fast. 

The visions blur and the happy place melts,

Expelling us back into this sinking world,

With memories of warmth and a promise of another lull. 

© YellowStylo

For Sue Vincent’s #writephoto challenge.


A million thorns adorn the ways you walk,

They say you can’t even walk straight.

A million stones are showered upon you,

But they ridicule you for bleeding.

Countless judgements attempt to cuff your hands,

They complain how slow you juggle. 

Countless norms just hate you,

They dismiss you as an attention seeker. 

Nevertheless, you carry on. 

You give life and yet it is not your own,

You give love and yet you are burnt. 

Your voice is strangled and your being is erased. 

‘Where are your contributions?’ Blinded, they still ask. 

Despite all, you live.

Live like the mighty earth in a universe of hostility ,

Rise like the sun after an angry rain,

Rage like a volcano that can no longer be dormant,

Soar like the eagle hungry for its prey,

And scorch this glass ceiling with your strength. 

A strength so unwavering, a courage so indomitable,

They have not been able to dent it, not in a million years. 


© YellowStylo

Tell Me

Perfect people walk around me like shadows of clouds high up in the sky.
I wish I could catch them and float alike.
I run and I run but my feet barely lift above that marshy ground.
Out of breath, I can only sigh.
I wish if I too could fly.

Oh what secret do they hold?
That magic spell that does not seem so obscure.
The cipher that only I do not know.
Tell me how you defy the clutches of those earthly binds.
Pray, tell me more.

I run and I run but my feet are sore.
I lie on the ground and watch the clouds fly by.
I see them frolicking in the garden of timeless skies.
I watch them till the sun bids goodbye.

Restless and stubborn, I would not stop till I know.
How do they glide so easily up above?
Where do they hide their worldly anchors?
High up in the heavens, how do they never fall?
Pray, tell me all.

© YellowStylo

For Sue Vincent’s #writephoto challenge.

Dear Mind

After years of unrelenting suffocation, I finally had the courage to speak up. 

Why do you judge me so harshly? At first, my voice seemed like a whisper. I hesitated. I doubted myself and wondered if I would ever have enough conviction to stand up to myself. 

Why do you make me question myself a thousand times on every simple step of life? I want your help and not your cold judgements. I bear the hostilities of the entire world, somehow. But when I look up to you I seek redemption. This time the wave of anger shook my body. I found relief in that hoarse cry of mine. 

You campaign for the virtues of democracy and liberalism and yet you censor me like a frenzied  autocrat. Our conversations are mostly your monologues of bitter accusations. But sometimes, all I want is a straw of hope to cling on to. The dried wounds of the injustice I had long endured were inflamed again. But the pain gave me strength to continue.

Do you ever realise the scars you leave behind with your unkind words? You dismiss my efforts and yet you generously give others too many second chances. I am not perfect, I know that well. But I am not as worthless as you make me feel. Tell me the stories of unflinching tenacity of the great successes. Tell me I can do it too. Please, do not give up on me. It did not matter how incoherent I sounded as the inevitable sobs punctuated my speech. 

You see me crying, in pain and agony, night after night. But you never say a word. I call out to you, begging for a comforting thought. And then you turn around and continue to give to the world with your philanthropic gestures. Why must your bridges of compassion burn down over the rivers of my sorrow?  The pitch of my self-advocacy reached a crescendo. Today, nothing could hold me back. 

I do not want to be a tortured prisoner at your mercy. Dear restless mind of mine, do not be my prison but be my companion. Of all the people in the world there is no one I need more than you. I need you to see me, understand me, help me and love me. I want to hear words of compassion, words of encouragement and words of praise. Treat me like you treat the rest of the  world, if not better. And finally, I had achieved that ever elusive catharsis. 

I cried to my heart’s content. Please, I pleaded again. I only hoped that I had made a dent in that stony prison of my mind. 

© YellowStylo

More on mental health.


He prayed harder and harder each passing day. God, I place my faith in you. Exhausted and hungry, he would visit the altar of the divine King, everyday. Despite the pain, he would kneel down and pray with utmost love and innocence. 

But, every time, the merciless storms of failure and loss wrecked the ship of his life. Yet, he did not lose his faith. Perhaps, I did not pray hard enough. He rebuked himself for his callous blasphemy. The hurt of betrayal was masked under an unfair burden of guilt. The next day brought no respite to his beaten soul. He prayed harder and harder still. Forgive me my Lord, for I have sinned. The prayers grew longer and the penance became more agonising. But forgiveness remained as elusive as the shores in the middle of the ocean. 

Do not ask for anything, just be grateful. The words of the Holy man were like the gospel to him. Gratitude became his mantra and he did not live another thankless moment. But the evils of the world broke his body and left him empty. Yet he prayed. Thank you, my Lord. 

His heart was heavy and his soul bruised with the unspoken impassivity of his beloved Almighty. But he never stopped praying and he never stopped believing. Faith was his constant companion. But then the storms grew louder and fiercer. Save me, my Lord. He waited and waited. He knew God would not let him down this time. As he drowned in sorrow and suffering, he breathed a thousand painful breaths. 

The next day he felt numb, like a dead man walking. Yet he carried on. This time his prayer was interrupted unceremoniously. The chaos of the land spoke to him with an angry candour. And suddenly, the oceans of his misery seemed like a hazy dream of yesterday. The blinding bright light of divine inception dimmed and he could see the world before him. The injustices and horrors, the wars and genocides, the dishonesty and the oppression. Tears washed away his blindness. A million questions flooded his mind. Why must the innocent suffer? Why must the evil prosper? Whither justice! In solidarity, he finally learned to question. 

Once again, he stood at the altar of the divine King and sought to look into those divine eyes for answers. His saviour stood before him, looking away with arms extended. Do you feel guilty that my faith is stronger than your indifference? And in that moment, the believer stood mighty tall, atop the mountain of unshakeable and invincible faith. He had finally found his strength. 

#writephotoFor the #writephoto challenge.

© YellowStylo