The Alipore Post Poetry Month – Week 2

So, www.the.aliporepost.com (and it’s corresponding Instagram handle) is celebrating poetry writing this month.

Did not think I would get halfway through this, feels steady…feels good 😊

Week 2 Prompts –

Day 8 Prompt – Stop

You mean a lot, she says
I say no and shake my head.
You really do, she says
and clutches my hand.
I tell her to please stop,
and gently let go.
The thing with words,
is that they wear off their lie,
when what one does,
matches not with what they imply.

Day 9 Prompt – Elegy

Window seat by the train,
beach holiday on her mind,
she gave the uncle opposite,
her brightest smile,
and got a swat from her mom,
what did I tell you she said,
don’t smile at strangers,
not ever again.

She shrugged,
dug into her pouch,
pulled out the bag of candies,
and with the sweetest grin,
offered one to the little boy looking at her,
from across the other berth,
and got a swat from her mom,
what did I tell you she said,
don’t offer candy to strange kids,
not ever again.

Close to tears now,
she folded her legs,
stared out of the window,
and got a swat from her mom,
what did I tell you she said,
don’t cross your legs when wearing a frock,
not ever again.

Not the mom’s fault,
neither the four year old’s mistake,
it was the world that had changed,
ruthlessly killed innocence,
things would never be the same again.

Day 10 Prompt – Vast

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder,
but the vastness of space between us now,
makes me wonder.

Did the last entire year defy math and time,
in that Six feet apart of social distance,
when multiplied by One year,
created more of a gap,
than just Six feet apart.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder,
but the vastness of space between us now,
makes me wonder.

Day 11 Prompt – Protest

Every now and then,
the voices in her head take over,
dulling her shine,
dimming her shimmer.

She puts up her hair,
feels the coffee warm her soul,
the extra caffeine hand the first kick in,
then she heads out,
to let the sunlight lend it’s glow.

The little things help,
to start the protest,
against the voices in her head,
that says I will fight back,
and give them a jolt.

Later in the day,
she picks up a manual chore,
cheers the finishing of it no matter how small,
texts her friends hello,
video-calls home,
bugs her hubby on the phone,
feels their love all the way to her bones.

The little things help,
to hold the protest,
against the voices in her head,
shoving them away further,
weakening their hold.

Then at night,
she dresses in red,
wears her wine berry lipshade,
let’s the fire take over her soul,
smiles at what she sees in the mirror,
and feels back her shimmer.

The little things help,
to win the protest,
against the voices in her head,
shutting firm the door,
and letting them know,
they are not welcome home.

Day 12 Prompt – Rainbow

The reiki music streams through my phone,
as I feel the energy pouring through,
setting the chakras in motion,
the rush of light on my crown.

Violet for higher consciousness,
Indigo for clear intuition,
Blue to strengthen my voice,
Green for unlocking love and joy.
Opening my heart,
I stay there a little longer,
as the light spreads through,
stronger and steadier.

Deepening the flow now,
Yellow to hold the life force,
Orange to intensify the senses,
Red for securing my base,
holding me down,
rooted firmly to the ground.

The chakras spin together,
centering my soul,
in a balanced palette of color,
a steady rainbow after the downpour.

Day 13 Prompt – Warm

Never one to talk,
least of all offer a smile,
the grouchy man starts counting my items,
rushing through the pile.

Looks up for a split second,
sees my face,
holds the stare a minute longer,
nods his head and gets back to the scanner.

I pay him the bill,
and rush home to make dinner,
empty the grocery bag,
and see my favorite can of beer.

He saw what no one else did that day,
a pale face and tired eyes,
threw in a free can,
his way of bringing some cheer.

I put the soup to simmer,
take a long slow sip of the beer,
touched by the warm gesture,
from the grouchy man at the cash counter.

Day 14 Prompt – Stillness

Every single day the same story unfolds,
them claiming it’s work in progress,
when really the protest for basic equality,
is just met with a loud stillness.

In that they do listen and watch,
then go around town shouting lots,
across all other matters,
except the one that matters most.
Then claim they are here to care,
to look at the progress made on some others,
but the main point we raised of concern,
the one on basic equality for everyone,
stillness is maintained on that front.

Every single day the same story unfolds,
them claiming it’s work in progress,
when really the protest for basic equality,
is yet again met with a loud stillness.

Instagram handle – @words.and.other.comforts

The Alipore Post Poetry Month – Week 1

So, www.the.aliporepost.com (and it’s corresponding Instagram handle) is celebrating poetry writing this month.

Given my lackadaisical approach to writing and being aware that I have not dabbled in poetry writing earlier, I still decided to give it a try if only to build some discipline into writing regularly no matter the format and length of the piece.

So far I have put up 7 poems on my Instagram handle @words.and.other.comforts. As thrilling as it is to put up my own piece every single day, I have to say the pressure is building up and I am not sure how many more days I will last. Sharing a piece of oneself is never easy, I am so grateful for the daily encouragement from friends and family.

In my husband’s words – “My wife may be a poet and she does not even know it. “ 😊

Week 1 Prompts –

Day 1 Prompt – Tenderness

Blurring the harshness around,
taming the wildness within,
softening the sharp edges,
the filters do their work –
Tenderness takes center stage.

Day 2 Prompt – Excess

Too loud,
Too soft,
Too many words,
Too free,
Too sensitive,
Too open,
Too many feelings,
Too much heart.
Some times soul in excess
can also be misunderstood.

Day 3 Prompt – Ask

There she goes,
making a home out of every thing.
The rain, the sea, the sunrise
wine corks, odd trees and morning chai.


When he asks her why not people…
She laughs and says, because people leave
but I store their vibe in everyday things.
Rain reminds me of the ones who bring me joy,
the sea of the ones who comfort my sighs,
sunrise reminds me of those who fill my life with hope,
wine corks of loud laughter together and tipsy jokes,
odd trees remind me of the ones who offered different shades of shade,
and my morning chai, of the ones who are a constant and stayed.


He smiles and thinks, I should have known,
there she goes,
making every thing her home.

Day 4 Prompt – Vaccine

She braced herself for it again,
a serious case of the nerves,
flutterings in her heart as she sat beside him.
He smiled at her, full of warmth,
mumbled comfort to soothe her fears,
lightly caressed her hand and put her at ease,
and in that moment when she closed her eyes,
took deep breaths and even smiled in between,
he gave her the much dreaded jab of the vaccine.

Day 5 Prompt – Earth

There was nothing else that she was doing,
except being herself,
tilting a little,
smiling a lot,
and taking her usual rounds.

As baby earth,
always playing,
innocent in loving,
all accepting.

As lady earth,
pushing and pulling,
always hustling,
abundantly providing.

As mama earth,
joints aching,
yet always giving,
forever forgiving.

There was nothing else that she was doing,
except being herself,
tilting a little,
smiling a lot,
and taking her usual rounds.

Day 6 Prompt – Habit

She feels the greyness first,
as the clouds roll over,
her heart takes one extra beat.
The low rumble comes next,
a deep buzz filling her soul.


He is familiar with this habit of hers,
as she sprints to the balcony,
thrilled at the anticipation of it.
He sees her unlock the phone,
start her rainy day playlist,
portrait mode on.


She turns her head right on time,
stretches out her palm,
knowing he’s right behind,
a steaming cup of chai for her in hand ♥️

Day 7 Prompt – Words

Read between the lines, they say
I try, I try so hard,
to decipher what they are not telling me.
But the words you see,
have a mind of their own,
And when I am staring too long,
to see the in-between,
they start to grow in size,
leaving no gaps for me to see.

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