RUDALI LAUGHING- Inspired by a Clown

You empathise with a Rudali
A woman crying for the whole world
Unable to cry for her self
I am a woman laughing for the world
Unable to laugh for my self
Too wounded to laugh
Impotent to cry
I can cry for you, Cry out to you
So , will you be my world ?
I could do for you what I couldn’t
for the world
What I wouldn’t for my self
So , I wish you to be my world
Even if you choose to be the rest of the world
I respect your choice , I laugh at you…….
And cry for myself….
[ Rudalis are  an Indian  Hindu tribe of women hired as professional mourners to mourn at someone else’s death. Mourning is their profession }


“Mystery Blogger Award” is an award for amazing bloggers with ingenious posts. Their blog not only captivates; it inspires and motivates. They are one of the best out there and they deserve every recognition they get. This award is also for bloggers who find fun and inspiration in blogging and they do it with so much love and passion. – Okoto Enigma 

The award was created by Okoto Enigma. Here is the link:

I thank Christopher Bland for nominating me. Here is the link to his blog

Rules For The Nominees:
Display the award logo on your blog. √

List the Rules. √

Thank the blogger who nominated you and provide a link to their blog. √

Mention the creator of the award and provide a link as well. √

Tell your readers three things about yourself. √

Answer five questions from the nominee. √

Nominate anywhere from ten to twenty bloggers. √

Notify the bloggers by leaving a comment on their blog. √

Ask your nominees any five questions of your choice, including one weird or funny question. √

Share the link to your best post. √

Three things about myself : 

1. I am an avid reader of any thing written or printed in the languages I can read or write. Books are my friends.

2. I could pawn gold to buy books

3. I like men with dark  eyes.

Answers to the questions asked by Christopher Bland. 

1.What’s two favorite things you like to do?

Writing poetry  and Doing psychotherapy with survivors of trauma

2.If you were in a confrontation with someone would you try to talk it out or just fight?

I hate confrontations and usually avoid them as long as I can. And I prefer to make the other person see my perspective without confrontation/ talk / fight. I prefer to win over my opponent than talk or fight nor yield. When I fail to win over I quietly walk away accepting it as my defeat in negotiating. Because I think confrontations do not resolve the conflict .Confrontative approach  to any situation is the last resort of someone capable or intelligent.

3.If you could have two things in the whole world what would they be?

Perhaps I can not share it here , it makes me vulnerable in a public space. There are no material desires .

4.If there was a zombie apocalypse and you could start off with three things what would they be?

I would first warn the public without switching panic button. And get experts to tackle the zombies. Forewarned is forearmed.

5.What color do you love most ?


I nominate:


Link to my best blog

My five questions are

  1. If world would be destroyed in next 24 hours, how would you want to spend those hours ?
  2. If you loved some one , will you hate those whom your loved one hates ?
  3. Have you ever done something very foolish and later laughed at yourself ? Can you share it here ?
  4. What is the one skill you wish to learn or regret not learning ?
  5. Have you ever felt deeply connected to a living person , child, animal , or tree without language ? How strong is that bond without words ?



He asked her to tattoo his name on her arm …

Is it necessary ? Have I not taken your name ?
Until I see it on your body , how do I know
You are only mine ?
After the name bled on her arm , she knew
the meaning of those drops of blood on
the bedsheet of a rapist.
The numbness spread over her like a blanket
in the frost of a night that did not end in a dawn.
“She was asking for this”


Snails are slow but reach their destination……

If flowers could fly getting rid of stalks

And trees could speak of all that they have seen

Clouds could stop and not drift

Nor take a million shapes, yet remain clouds

Ready to come together to make rain

If bees did not sting out nectar and not hurt

If a man could love mind, body and soul………..

It would be complete on earth

She would smile a million flowers

to match the stars of the sky……



They do not identify me do they ?

I was the missing child that they forgot

to advertise as missing

They do not remember me do they ?

My face reminded of madonna

who simply disappeared underground

No more  found in rock shows

not even in the audience

They were the muffled voices of a crowd

around an accident victim

surprised that she lived

They had the obituary typed.

I was probably the statue expecting

pigeons to return after they ate their feed

As if they would lend me their wings

And  make peace with the angry years

As the moon looms large closer to earth

than ever before

Finally you hear me

The one who has the right to listen


It was fear of death, people developed fever , breathlessness and died in 24 hours. Young mothers , small children  died by the hour , there was no vaccine yet  , hospital suddenly resounded with cries of grief….. As I went round the wards , it  became mandatory to wear a mask . Another doctor found it to be funny , he said men wore the cups of a bra as masks . I was suddenly disgusted with mortal fears or him saying it to a woman doctor as a joke…


“Important encounters are planned by the souls before seeing of the bodies -Paulo Coelho”

If I talk to you in algebra

Just become the alphabets on Right hand side of

The equation.

Understand  it is equality.

If I talk to you in salads

Do not cook me, just slice the onions

There is no body image disturbance

If I talk to you on the tread mill

Wait for me to become breathless

Then ignore it, switch on the table fan

I do not stink even when I sweat

Find out if you care….

Make sure my umpteen papers

Have the perfect paper weight

If I talk to you in water language

Burn with red eyes, when I want a reaction

I usually get it, I want it from you

Not from the entire male universe

When I recite poetry with every touch

Do not smother me, be a moving wet tongue

Poetry is counsel to my self

In loneliest moments

And when I say please don’t touch

Erect a fence, be that hard diamond glimmer and stay far

I am lost like a child refusing to grow up

For hours or days, I am truly delightful

Understand and do not mess with me then

If ever I find a dream behind the bruised pillow

Like this one, do not murder it

Let it be.

I revive my reasons to live

( Dedicated to flame thrower)


The harsh traffic on the roads

Continue to batter me returning

to a room of one’s own

Debris of wealth , rubbles of dominance

mark the broken roads…..

JCBs spread their trunks with huge ugly

fingers to dig the earth

Resettling of mud , as it sprinkles dust over my car

Roads of pebbles, rocks , nothing smooth……

I saw a small slipper lost by its pair

lying there , unclaimed ……

Drying jasmine flowers slipped from some plait

on which passed a lorry

I look in the rear view mirror

I think I saw you all

The men with whom I can never reconcile