Wrong Signals

Heyaa, I’ve been a little erratic of late. I can’t really blame myself. It’s not even a fortnight for my birthday which means I’ve nearly 3 extra liters of blood pumping inside me.

I will try and post often, but I don’t think that is what truly matters. I have been toying with the idea of open ended lines wherein the words are open to interpretation. I am not good at it because I am known to send WRONG SIGNALS. My best friend often tells me that I ALWAYS send wrong signals to people and my very good friends have told that my beloved best friend is right.

In fact, I’ve also been told to PUT THE “S” IN SIGNALS  :P


So, here I am pathetically trying to write something open ended which can justify my tag of wrong signals :P ‘coz I am so hopeless that I even like my embarrassing nomenclatures (wait, is that a wrong signal? :P) I LOVE LOVE LOVE when people give me nicknames.. I’ve a splendid collection of it <3 <3 <3 From Shruti (my real name) to Shade, Shroots, Mental, Sti(just the abbreviated version), Indy, LG, Chinky (real nickname), Chickles and some more which are mortifying to be put here.. I LOVE each one of them <3.

I just got distracted from the main point :P may be, I am better off writing poem :D 


Once you trip, you will FOREVER fall

So hard it is and still you try

You put up a fight

But you win and cry

May be, you want to fall

And feel the hug

Of the ones you love

And the ones who care

I did fell and I tripped too

I am still falling deeper again

Where will I land, I do not know

To clear the signals, where do I go?

Nothing to hold,

No light to show

I walk all alone

And the shadow 

Well, it follows.

I say things

I may not mean

I do not say things

I always mean

My signals are distorted

The roads are dark and deep

Once you trip, you will forever fall

But may be, the fall

Will be the PUSH

That will pull me back

And the signals and the roads

Will once again make some sense


P.S. I know the picture doesn’t relates to the poem, but isn’t that WRONG SIGNAL :P  :D

Poetry MURDER- I

Disclaimer: Don’t hate me after reading this and please don’t block me too, though WP has no provision for blocking :P :D

This post is going to be…. Trust me, I don’t even have words to explain. I LOVE poetry, but I just murdered it here.. and very brutally and ruthlessly too.. don’t hate me for this.. It’s just that I woke up happy drugged.. the type of drugged where I could drug drugs :D :D ‘Nuff said.. here it is.. A duet with Murukesh who is blessed with rhymes but ended up quizzing his sanity with me :D


 I’m up, I had my coffee..
Look at you poor baby,
Do you want a toffee?
You lazy poet..
You’re brimming with such violence..
Neither coffee nor a toffee,
My rhymes should bring you silence
 I seriously envy you..why oh why
Always a rhyme, sigh
The antonym, for live is die
Look someone’s giving it back,
But not with enough power..
Your arsenal shall bow before me,
Every second-minute-and-hour 
Today, if you rhyme any more
I swear, your mind will become sore
The best processor- intel core
Why don’t you just kill yourself,
Than kill me with your rhymes?
‘Knock-knock’ your coffin’s calling,
Didn’t you hear the chime?
I would make a smart monster
I am not a him but her
The second line made no sense
But, hello At least it had the right tense 
Jesus! Ram! Allah! Wahe Guru!
Look at the torture I’m going through..

Leave me alone, don’t give me this pain,
Pity this poor guy, don’t make him insane!
 If you were sane,
I might have tried making you insane
But, how on earth does a mad man get madder
To climb up, you need a ladder
 All your rhymes are super killer,
I die every time I read them..
If it goes this way for long, my brains and wit -
I’m afraid I might not need them!
How come you still type
When every time you die
Are you a ghost then
What came first- the egg or the hen? 
Your rhymes have a tinge of fun in it,
Not really the kind of rhymes we see..
A Shade Of Pen is how you’re known,
you’re unique – I must agree!
Like all other girls, I would say awwwww
A carpenter loves his axe and saw  
I wonder if you roll your eyes
The plural of mouse is mice
 Alright, here’s the deal – we call it truce,
Time to check this poetic loose..
You stick with your rhymes, I’ll play with mine,
A rhyme-master and his (virtually) bewildered muse!
The blue is he.. the Red is me :P :D
happy birthday
I know the picture doesn’t makes sense but hello half a month for my birthday.. let the PARTYYY BEGGGIINNNNN



There’s a lot more.. I will do a part 2 :P :D ‘coz too much of it in one post will have WP authorities slanging me :P :D


Don’t hate me.. you can facepalm obviously :D :D

Much Lovies,

Your Maddie



Shadows From Within

I had to coaxx a lot to make sure that Al wrote with me, but yessss the wait was worth it. He is currently one of my fave person at the moment because HOLY GOD, I’ve got a BIRTHDAY card from him.. Yes, yesss I will share picture very shortlllllyyyyyy… Here’s a duet that we two strum together and I hope, I’ve been too good a poetry partner for him so he won’t be scared and won’t run again :P I suck at humor, but heyy what’s wrong in trying :P

He’s British.. that’s reason enough :P :D Here it goes… the much awaited duet FINALLY!

The nights sometimes do not end
Even though the sun shines
Your sky still remains starlit
As the darkness will not leave

The shadows linger still
The moon your only light
Inner turmoil eating away
Silent screams no one hears.

Alone in the room of people
For times longer than eternity
A shadow is haunted, tormented and it cries
Seeking death, but staying alive

Sadness rips away at the soul
Tears creating streaks on the face

Nothing, no one can help
Solace, a joy long past and forgotten

But the shadows cannot stay forever
Hope ever on the horizon
Unseen whilst darkness surrounds
A glimmer, mistaken for a star

Reality is but an illusion
Nothing lasts forever
What is born, must die
The pain too must subside

Strength comes from within
As friends aid recovery
Life once again turns around
A light for all to see

brightness of light


A Guest At My Home

HEYYYYYYY, I’ve a guestttttt at my home.. as in my blog… Meet my latestttt smart find.. Karan Sampat. If you have  a knack for some of the yummiest and not to be missed tales, must hop to his blog HERE. Trust me, I’ve a knack and a blessing for finding the gems and this one does SHINE really bright. Read this tale because it has its own tempo and what is even more awesome is the fact that THE GUY ISN’T EVEN 18 YET!!

HOLY GOD, he is a KID and a veryyyy smarrrt one too. I must say, I was glued till the end. Damn me, why do i have to be so awesome finding the best of the best all the time. The kid writes holy good. I must stop my blabbering here and gooo give him a read and send him your much love.


She stood still as the flames raised high in the sky, and his soul left the Earth with the orange flares. She could not do a thing as he left her for the last time, but he would remain forever etched in her heart, as a memory, a gem of her past. With this revolving in her mind, she looked to the skies, and begged for forgiveness; she begged for him to be back with her; waiting for him to walk back from the flames to say that it was all a joke. The rivulet kept flowing down her cheeks, and she remembered the smiles he had brought on her face, and the happiness he had given her heart. And all of a sudden, she was all alone, no…his future, their future lay inside her.


She remembered the day when they had become one- a couple; the promises they had made to each other; it all remained in her brain. As the fire blazed in front of her, she could visualize that day- it all came back to her.


There she was, a magnificent glowing Princess, walking towards him. Dressed in the traditional red dress, she held her head low, but her eyes searched for him, her soul mate, from under the veil which covered her head. As the pandit said aloud the chants, she looked at him, to find his eyes fixed on her. Averting his deep eyes, she bowed her head again, her cheeks flushing red. At the other side, she could see her parents and also Anurag’s parents, smiling and reflecting happiness.


As the pandit called for them to stand in order to take the promises, she glanced at him, and he pouted his lips in a kiss. Shocked by his motion, she widened her eyes in anger, but her heart danced, in glee. This was the man she loved, and this was the man she wanted beside her forever. Walking the 7 circles, they held hands, and swore in front of the holy fire, the same fire which was tormenting her now.


He had hugged her tightly that night, and had repeatedly said that he loved her so much, but she had not replied; she could not as shyness drowned her completely. That was one of the only two days when she had not said it. The other one was the day he left- forever, and she regretted this day the most.


The fire in front brought her back to the present, and she dabbed at the stream falling down her cheeks. Her sister held her and led her to the car which waited patiently for them. Limping weakly to the machine, she stopped and looked back, and then up to the skies, which joined her in mourning the loss with their own tears. With a deep breath, Aditi ducked in, and sped off- towards memories, towards home.


The mementoes and his absence awaited her. As she went through the messages and calls, she missed him- she missed his arms around her; she missed his sweet voice and cheesy dialogues; she missed the whole him. Stifling a sob, she sank into the armchair he loved reading in, and she closed her eyes, tightly, as though to feel his presence. She wished she could change their last day together, she just wished.


The alarm clock shrilly cried out for the 5th time that morning, and Aditi ran back to shut off the hysterical screaming.


“Get up Anu! I got to go to office now, and so do you.”


“Nothing will happen if we skip a day honey,” he said as he pulled her down to sleep beside him.


“Fine, you don’t go, but I have to bye. If you wish then call me later. But don’t apologize.”




With this, Anurag went back to his slumber, and Aditi rushed to work, grumbling.


The clock chimed the 4th hour, and Aditi glanced again at the phone. This was the 15th call she was getting, but she didn’t want to talk to him. NO! This was the 3rd time he had acted like this in the week, but he had to understand that this did not work! She had wanted to tell him something in the morning, something very important, which would make him very happy. But his childish behavior had spoiled it all. She had had to wait for 12 whole hours to pass before she could tell him. Not that she was that pissed, but this did not work in real life.


“First I will shout at him like hell, and then I’ll quietly tell him the news. No wait, I’ll fire him from here, and then when we meet, he’ll woo me. Then I’ll tell him,” Aditi thought as she packed her bag to leave office. She was leaving early so she could get things set up for the news tonight, but her feigned anger had to reach him and she picked the phone. All she typed in was, “Stop calling me again and again. I never want to see you again.”


As soon as she kept the phone back, it rang, “I love you too. Get ready to leave; I’m picking you up in 15 minutes. I’m sorry love…L :’(.”


“I don’t love you at all. Get here soon, I’m leaving anyways.”


Putting her headphones on, she wiled time until he came. As the 15 minutes came to an end, she walked to the exit, and the phone rang- it showed it was him.


A curt voice started speaking before she could cut it off, and said, “May I know who I am speaking to? I’m speaking from the Police.”


“Well what’s wrong Officer? That’s my husband’s phone you are calling from? Is he in some trouble?”


In the background, she heard the man say, “Fill the name as Anurag, we have his wife here. Send a car and an ambulance to pick her up. Get going right now. Ma’am where are you? I’m sending a car for you, there is some bad news I’m afraid.”


With a cry, she fell to the ground in a heap, until the ambulance accompanied with the police cars picked her up. Anurag had been consumed in a high-speed crash, and as he died, all he said to the paramedic holding his hand was, “Just tell my Adi that I love her, whether or not she does.”


His last words came to her, and she repeatedly kept saying she loved him, as the armchair kept rocking back and forth, with the combined weight of Aditi and her unborn child.



Guest Author’s note:

To find more of Karan Sampat, get to his blog here. Still not 18, he pens some brilliant stories and his LOVE for haiku gives me “the jealous greens”. Not to miss are his posts where he drips sarcastic notes on movies, Bollywood and Hollywood alike.  His creative posts makes up for his lousy handwriting  and damn, how he makes me wish I too blogged when I was still not 18.

A blogger I am gonna stalk now.. a kid who knows how to get the ball rolling.


Singing Happy Birthday

I generally write serious poetry on pictures by Al Forbes ‘coz they leave a defining mark. This picture, I LOVE to pieces but I am not going to do an extremely serious post or so I believe.. let’s see where I tumble.


He stands in the middle of nowhere

He is all by himself

He knows he is watched

And yet he wants

To be himself

And for once


He sings in his voice

He whispers loudly

And smiles

The type of smile that tells

There’s a tale in the eyes

He laughs at the melody of his voice

Which soothes his heart

He is tone deaf

But he sings

And sometimes that is all

You really want to hear

Because when someone shows you

Their rawest side

You don’t judge them


LOVE them for who they are


He stands in the middle of nowhere

He is all by himself

He knows he is watched

And yet he wants

To be himself

And for once


And in that moment

The little (bird) girl

Watching him from behind

Smiles and smiles some more

LOVE happens


P.S. when I first saw this picture, I felt this handsome guy is singing me happy birthday.. I somehow still feel it so :* and so the title.. even though the poetry has none of it.. this picture just makes me fat happy because I feel this handsome hot guy is wishing me happy birthday which, BTW is on MAY 3rd, should you find it hard to recall.

I Won’t Be Forever Here

This picture has been captured by my beautiful Irish friend, Elaine Harte. She is awesome with pictures and I have a series of her clicks saved on my machine. You’re sure to be mesmerized by her candid shots. She is Irish, need I say more?

i won't be forever here

When you fall,

I will lend my hand

When you’re hurt,

I will heal

When you’re broken,

I will sew you back


I won’t be forever here

I will stand by you

When your days are darker than night

I will bring you the smile

When you’ve quite forgotten how

I will relive the memories

When you feel dead inside


I won’t be forever here


You seem trapped in 

Your own world

You don’t know who

You truly are

I will be your guardian angel

I could be your forever friend

We could be the story the world would read


You’re lost to all these thoughts

You’re caged to the

Yesterday that has died

You still bleed of the pain

You still kiss your own cuts

While I am there

And I will be

To help, heal and bring the smiles


I won’t be forever here

I have a long road ahead

I will have to walk

I too have a destiny

Sadly, I shall walk alone.

When I will fall,

No one will lend me a hand

When I am hurt,

No one will help me heal

When I am broken,

No one will sew me back


I won’t be forever there

I will rise, I will smile

And you will perhaps realize

You could have a FOREVER

If you ever opened your eyes

Sadly, we were not to be

And the tale shall not complete

My Author

This picture has been captured by my amazingly talented friend Anshu Dhamiwal. You must hop over to her blog to read some of the most brilliant poetry. I am in awe of her photography skills. This girl deserves all the love and more. I LOVE LOVE LOVE this picture.


She hugged the book

Like it was her own

The world laughed at her


They called her mad,


A lunatic

A dreamer who lost 

The touch with reality

But, she knew


More than a book

She felt the pain

Of the author

Who wrote a book

Even when it killed

A part of him

A part of her


It was is a part of her

The author wasn’t a nameless face

He was is a part of her. 

She was is a part of her.

She hugged the book close

Like she was in LOVE

Yes, she was.


Is silly and complex

If you can’t stop thinking about 


It is LOVE

She couldn’t stop


For her books

She was in LOVE

With the author who bled

To gave her the smile

That she had never worn.

She was in LOVE

With the author who bled

To make her cry for emotions

She had long locked.


IT was is a part of her

The author wasn’t a nameless face

He was is a part of her. 

She was is a part of her.

She sits with her books

Hoping one day,

She will read

A book

That an author



So that she could proudly 

Look and smile

And whisper

Finally, here he is


Until then

She showers LOVE

On all those books

Which she hugs close

To her beating RED heart

A flower sits on her books

As she dreamily sighs in


P.S. Slightly inspired by the novel, The Book Thief and obviously a shade of reality. I LOVE authors who can pen sheer brilliance.