Author Archives: Reshma Radhakrishnan

About Reshma Radhakrishnan

I'm a girl of 16 years. I love to express myself. So my life has, is and will continue to be filled with the best ways of expressions-DANCE, MUSIC AND WRITING :)



Picture credits : DeviantArt

You’re my longest eyelash.
The one that curves more than the rest.
You flicked along with my arrogant eyes
And sneered at the world you saw.

One day,
You got right into my eye,
Made me wince in pain,
Made me tear up.
I tried and tried in vain
To get you out.
Touched my already sore eye.
As you stayed put,
Until you were just a black speck
In the corner of my eye,
Till you went all the way behind
Watching the sight of the world
That was meant for me to be seen.
Until you come back again,
You silent threat.
Until you flood me up,

You just are.
And I just am.


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No Rhyme Or Reason

htouching2One late afternoon, 
I lay against his chest,
His strong arms wrapping me in my nest.

‘Twas a time when I believed,
There was nothing more sincere,
Than his love for me.

And mine for him, 
For he was my world,
His eyes held the universe beyond.

As bright as it was, my sky,
Filled with rainbows and butterflies,
As happy as his smile made me..

I snapped.

I broke free, raised my voice,
Kicked around, stormed about,
Insanity, has no reason.

As Miss High Handedness
Pranced about,
He watched and left in misery.

The tide did ebb.
Senses surfaced.
I looked about and found him gone.

He’d drawn the curtains,
Blown a bubble,
Sat inside, as I watched in despair.

That sight, of my dreamy-eyed,
Debonair of a man,
Heavied my heart, though hollow.

Am I the reason?
Am I to be blamed?
Am I no princess, but a horrid witch?

I shrieked, I cried,
I scratched at the walls,
While he sat, deafened, nonchalantly.

Inside, I screamed,
That I knew that it hurt.
That once, I had felt it too.

A time ago,
Just like him,
Music eluded me too.

I’d heard no hum,
Could sing no song,
Until he awoke the rhythm within..

Explanation was unheard,
Concerns went unseen,
A love so keen, was unheeded to.

I ached as he searched,
To grab the right thoughts,
Which he lost to a gibberish of a girl.

It took a moment too late,
To know that a touch of calm
And love, would have the bubble burst.

Would apologies suffice
To sink this mess?
Would he dismiss my lunacy??

To err is human,
If I had a chance, one more,
If he’d let me in again…

I’d put him against my breast,
I’d sing him a song,
I’d whisper as I kissed his lips. . .

‘Oh but I’m the music,
That not evaded,
But was spurned away, away..’


-Reshma. R

Nothing spurs poetry like sadness. It helps when one doesn’t have to look for the right person to feel understood. It listens, it agrees, and sometimes, that’s all you need. 


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Deep Purple

No copyright violation intended

Deep purple,
Were the gift wraps,
Deep purple,
Was the art.

The man she loved,
An artist,
And she,
A purple charm.

A slender porcelain doll was she,
Clad in pink and a princess crown.
Black curls falling on her shoulders,
Gleaming eyes of a striking brown.

And right beneath,
Beneath her right,
Tattooed was a crescent moon.

On a pleasant night,
Under the full moon’s light,
Gifted by the window of her room.

Now, as she faces the sky,
And its mystery blue,
As her fingers
Caress the window pane,

An autumn leaf twists
On her forearm skin,
Marked by the sweet
Kiss of a cane.

Wounds of  fury, no,
Gifts of love.
For he was an opulent giver.

Time would sing songs
Of the love of a man,
Who made a canvas, of his lover.

His heavy blows
Turned her black and blue,
His kisses turned her red in a daze;

She bore it all,
And of it,
She painted a portrait.

Of a woman,
With pursed lips, screaming eyes,
With such beauty that pierced you so.

Of a woman who never cried,
Nor spoke; Of a woman,
Who never knew to say no.

‘Twas but a blithe encumbrance,
Wrapped in passion,
That bore on her relentlessly.

It was then tied with marriage,
And tagged with love,
That she acceded to, helplessly..


The story of a woman whose scars were etched far too deep for the shackles of love to undo.

Not every woman is as brave as she wants herself to be. Not every woman finds the courage to fight her own war. Not every woman is loved the way she deserves to be loved.

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It is this, that every person yearns for, Acceptance. To be accepted without a mask, without pretense. Our confusing, mind numbing journey revolves around finding acceptance either from another human or from society as a whole. 



Thrust Into The Void


Illusioned by company,
She was impressed too soon,
Lured by the mystical strangeness,
She deserted placid loneliness.



The journey lasted
Long enough to matter,
And then, with a bend,
The road came to an end.



She was then thrust.
Thrust into the void.
Wreathed by nothingness,
A non-binding emptiness.



A lonely walk,
Than a walk alone,
She dallied on, farther and farther,
With a fear like no other.



Hollow screams.
Tearless cries.
Voiceless protests.
Aberration at its crest.



She paced on,
Till her legs could take her.
She was now crippled,
Her sobs turned to sniffles.



She searched for answers,
That lacked existence.
Her questions were born,
To remain ignorant.



More futile brooding.
Baseless blather.
Insanity of a mind, confused, hurt.



Such is the search,
For the ultimate salvation,
Of an embracing, whole consuming,
An all encompassing acceptance.



It has no escape,
It is a loop.
If she did make it out,
She would be back too soon.






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Through Portals…

The various stages of life is like travelling through portals, each of which opens a different world before you. Going from door to door, one collects the pearls of wisdom and treasuring each experience, moves on to the next..



Old and ashen,
A lump on the sofa side,

My eyes close to that travel,
Through portals of my life.

The first, an intricate artwork,
Every detail refined,

I walk in, a portrait of innocence,
Amazed at the pretty pictures I find.

Thirteen years hence,
Lured by dazzling colours,
I stand at the doorway,
That leads to the hall of mirrors.

Each time I walk,
I bump, I fall,
And yet, knowing I’m right,
I walked through the hall.

So full of confusion,
So full of me,
Yet my head stayed high,
For all I see is me.

The portal up front,
The most beautiful sight yet,
Pulled me to its mystic,
Its magical world ahead.

Once in, I met,
Love and passion set on fire,
And their heady pals,
Lust and desire.

Friends for years,
Memories for life,
Sweet and bitter scars,
Marked with a sharp knife.

Spent and sated,
Now a woman wise to bits,
I walked with steady steps,
To the door marked “Feminists”.

After years of big words,
It was time to sit down.
So I headed to a special door,
Inside, I put down my crown.

With a silent song behind,
And a life of purpose to live,
Found a man who assured me,
All the love he could give.

Many have come and gone,
With rays of joy and drizzles of pain,
‘Twas my little one’s turn now,
Through him, I saw the portals again.

Hence, in and out, through portals, I go,
A requiem for nuance,
Still at the sofa side,
I slowly woke up from the trance..

-Reshma. R

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The Test Of Time

timeIn life, there are many moments that pass, which might seem to be your happiest, many people you meet, who might seem to be the most important, many tinges in your heart, which might seem to be love. . .

But how is it that one can make out if these are the results of a bored, ideal mind or not?


Time is the sole answer which helps you see through such illusions life throws at you.

If anything, anyone withstands the bitch in life called time, have no doubt, for it has withstood the biggest test.

Even as time passes,
If you feel happy at the thought of a hap
py memory,
Forget it not, for it is your happiest.

Even as time passes,
If he is the first on your priority list,
Doubt not, for he is the most important.

Even as time passes,
If you still feel magical,
Worry not, for it is love.

And love of the purest kind. . .

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Have you ever had some incident in the past which you must have struggled to forget, yet it came back to you at some point in your life, hurting you as much as it did before?
This is a poem about someone like that. Someone who hallucinated about a time in her childhood that she wished to remember but also forget. 


A gush. A swish.

A knock at my windowpane.
Silence at whose arms I slept, was first,
Then my sleep, was driven away by the rain.

I awoke to the blistering thunders,
I awoke to the pouring rain,
In spite of it all, a desire,
I awoke, but I felt only pain.

Thoughts of a childhood summertime,
Like the lightening flash came first.
Haunting aches of those summer rains,
Like the thunder bolt came next.

Streets and roofs and tanks and pots,
With the tears of the skies did fill.
It drew me into a whirling spin,
Forcefully, against my will.

The oblivion ebbed, the rain still poured,
A scenery lay ahead,
Of a hundred things I loved back then,
A place I’d once reveled. 

Hills of pain stood achingly high.
The seabed brimmed with tears.
I stood ashore, to recall a smile,
But it was all I saw, just fears.

My eyes, they wander on,
But they know not what they seek.
Amongst the unfamiliar familiarity,
Over to the most magnificent turn yet, I peek.

My piquancy, it rises.
Twas the naked picturesque beauty,
Of a single green spot of an old connection,
Amidst the strange and howling sea.

Of all the other million things,
I hear, I touch, I see,
Twas this alone that made it past,
A past of haunting memories.

A smell that touched and touches still,
As I stand on the greens spot’s shore,
A million thoughts, like a reel it runs,
As I close my eyes to Petrichor.

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Do You See Me Fly?

DoYouSeeMeFlyI have wings.

None in the crowd around me now, can see it.
They don’t see it.
YOU could if you tried..

Look at me spread my wings,
With an alluring grace,
Open them up as far as they can stretch.
Go straight ahead, 
And towards the horizon, that you see,
And beyond. . .

To that one destination I have been flying to,
All my life. . .

What remains,  is a few hundred miles…
Before I reach my kingdom,
Before I rule. . .

I’m on my way now,
Drinking the tears of the skies,
Reflecting the smile of the sun,
Looking down upon the mighty mountains, and,
Drifting along with the clouds,
That share,
The symphony of hope. . .

I’m on my way now,
Another fogged morning you see,
But, a new dawn to me. . .

A journey to where I belong, 
A companion , if you wish,
A word lost, if you don’t,
I could take you along and fly,
Yes I could give you wings, but you should fly.

The crowd around me, they look on, but they can’t see my wings,
They don’t see my wings,
YOU could if you tried.

Do you see me fly?

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A Diary note…

13th April ’13

Today is 13th April ’13. Yet I write on the previous page owing to the great desire to note down certain sudden turn of events, yesterday, a desire that remained unfulfilled till today.

If I were but anyone else, I’d have phrases of dismay. I’d probably have said that I hate the world, the people in it, that i don’t understand life, relations, etc., to an extent as to compromise with my strong stand that LOVE is the greatest essence of life.

But it happens otherwise. Due to God’s will or my peculiarity/difference in character, I cannot say. Having to taste the bitter side of life, is inevitable. Life is not always fair like the moon which just shows us one side, throughout. A change of mind, behaviour, a sudden event-baseless, without any explanation, reason, is what often sets down the mood of people. Thus leading to the aforementioned thoughts. Many do try to combat, a futile effort.

Situations are same for me too. The pain requires no mention. However, I can only see it as the shallowness of the minds of people, leading to unnecessary mental disturbances. Having an empathetic mind, I cannot see any other option but to forgive. “Ignorance!”, I often fume with rage. Anger arising from the ‘depth’ of  their shallowness, not actions.  How hard is it to dawn upon a simple realization that the key of a happy life is- Simplicity? Life is simple. It is the games played by the mind that makes life complex.

Then why am I, a person who claims to understand the very root of problems, writing this, you ask? It is for yet another simple logic, that TIME and time alone heals. I am strong enough to face the complexities arising due to people’s  shallow mindedness, but I also do realize that, if I, a patient, am aware of my own disease, I should also be ready to take the medicine. I do firmly believe that I have clearly understood the reason and remedy for a troubled mind. Distractions(eg. TV, music, etc.), your mind might want to argue. But no. These just form a temporary refuge , leading you to nowhere. Whereas, time lets you deal with the problem, a slow yet effective medicine like the Ayurveda, unlike unhealthydistractions which may have immediate effect, but on the long run, unreliable.

Emotional attachments are human. Hence, it may not be possible to rule out reasons that lead to an upset mind. Ways can only be thought of to cure, not prevent.

Words come easily as my pen moves, but my actions henceforth, have to come with the combined and constant effort of the body, mind and heart alike. I am not perfect, I do alter from my track at times. After all, ‘ To err is human..’. But I do make sure that no etty botherations change my views, personality or character. I cannot teach the whole world to change its way of thinking, that would still lead to a troubled mind, if I ever wished so.

Going ahead in life, making it as simple as possible, enjoying the moments that have to be enjoyed, getting with the unexpectable that I cannot change, I move ahead in this battle field of mortals. With yet another lesson learnt, I’m signing off for now.




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Two little hands held each other tight….

FRIENDSHIP of the truest kind, needn’t be expressed with a lot of words, but just with few, but meaningful words…


In a heavenly garden, stood two friends.
Two little hands held each other…
They travelled and travelled together.
Till amidst the forest, in the rainstorm,
There, they stood, and drenched, 
and suffered and pained.
And yet,
Two little hands held each other tight….
Categories: Poems | Tags: | 2 Comments

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