The Tortoise Without A SHELL…….


There was an argument

going on the table.

Everyone was putting the

best cards of there personality,

But she was sitting quite.

Was it because she was not that capable

of countering the rest of them? 

Everyone was mocking her.

But she was silent like the buddha.

As if their thoughts are not at all

bothering her.

She left the table.

I followed her,

she went to a place which was full of

flowers and she was watering the flowers and

singing her heart out.

She was Quite bold  to leave the table and at the same time

the kindest person I ever knew.

She did not hold the baggage of

thoughts of other people.

She did not protect herself

from being judged.


The Thing which always protects 

is it really a Protection or a Curse?




Love For Leaves.


The lines were made, The purchase was increasing,

the sales rate were increasing in the flower shop,

I was standing in the queue, when

I saw her.

She was wearing green attire with

a leafy pattern of golden color

on it and hair clips of


She was looking extra-ordinary with the

ordinary leafy look.

I went to talk to her, to know

what is the inspiration of this look?

She smiled and said,


“Everyone compliments the extra-ordinary,

but why to forget that the ordinary made the extra-ordinary



since then I found something

magical in ordinary

which made it look like extra, which

satisfied the needs and

wants at the same time.

When you think about little things

and how they influence a person

you will fall in love with the ordinary leaf

which is responsible for the growth of the tree,

Just like True values and Nature that makes

A nice Human Being. Or Should I say,

An ORDINARY Human irresistible.


Keep Smiling.

-Neepa Bhatia (a Lover of Leaves)



Let it Rain…..


Let it rain and heal every crack

which lies more in the hearts than in the soil.

Its more because of being lost

than being rigid or wrong.

The belief of rain doesn’t lie in repent

but in healing.

Let it rain, for the clouds that hold

the cargo of deeds of human’s misbehavior

more than the ecosystem evaporation.

It may not affect their attitude but

the altitude of mother earth.

Let it rain, for the little girl

who waits every year for that

one dance which sets her heart

to believe she can feel perfectly happy

and alive.

Let it rain, for the one who waits

for this natural shower miracle every day

to make a living and a smile for his child with

a bowl of rice.

Let it rain Because it hasn’t been the end

you believed,

But a Rainbow which awaits with the

sunshine of Hope And Love to

cherish your Life.


-Neepa Bhatia





She was sitting there at the corner of the cafe,

hiding a bunch of insecurities but

peace was there in her sight.

When I asked her about the hiding in the corner

the unusual answer came as she said,”

When I take these broad glasses off,

they see my eyes crossed, I won’t tell them

its hypermetropia in which due to long-sightedness,

my eyes can’t focus and to avoid double vision,

my eyes cross. I won’t tell you that my eyes can be treated

but I will tell you its multi-tasking.

One eye looking right back at you and one in the search of

home for a long time.

They laugh at my bulgy nose but that is

the only thing I inherited from my dad

but he carried it with pride but I

on the other, get mocked on that.

They may see my cheeks and a jaw

that is more of bone than flesh, I would tell

you how I bit the inside of my cheeks

swallowing the words which still

remain undigested at the pit of my stomach

maybe that why I am skinny.

Maybe that why there are days

in which I can’t stop eating and there are days

when I don’t eat at all.

When they don’t find smooth

legs moisturized and glowing instead see a hairy one

and they laugh at my feminity, I will tell you

how after I discovered I was a woman,

I pretended to be man Because man could

get away with anything.

But they won’t let a woman go with Unshaven legs.

When they feel me in parts, I was carrying my

dignity wincing in pain. I will tell you how my dignity was

taken away from me.

To grow it back everyday, I was finding my worth

in poems, words, and books, trying to find

what more can dignify me apart from my sexuality?.

I have always hidden behind amateur metaphors which

have always accepted, comforted and healed me like

my mother does. So when I run off the stories to

keep them engaged,

They see me like a person who doesn’t have a mystery

or a gorgeous face to hold their heart. And you, my listener

, you will leave and before leaving you will tell me

you are beautiful out of pitty but

you will discard me as UNAPPEALING.”









The Catastrophic Ménage(story of a molested girl)



As she texted this to me, While her family had reached her city and was on their way to pick her up. She still had to do a couple of dishes but had just lotioned her hands. It was nice to worry about the meager present for a while. Too devastating and she can only Lie to herself for so long.

Like Ordinary girls, It was nice to worry about certain things like nail polish chipping, The skin problems, tanning level etc. The destination was waiting to embrace her but she knows the cost, She has to perform the old version of her for her family. Not all of it was a NATAK but it weighed on her That she was a coward to play for even a scene.

Does the Quran there sound exactly like the one near her mom’s? Her thoughts made me write about this, in between thoughts of these confusions, but duties beckon. It was not winter-break 3am yesterday anymore, staying up until her body clock asked for sleep. Her life was a surely real arthouse drugged dream and it demanded a dying star.

she said performance, pretension like she was anything but. She wanted to remember feeling like this, but she knew She would remember only how the heater was a good hair dryer or that the outside looked like a picture with the bright blue highlight on everything, like the sky was throwing up everything inside of it.

She looked at all that empty inside. Look at the not-necessary people who didn’t matter until they were gone, mostly present in absence & all the background noise she always wanted to escape out, now was louder than ever in her missings; recalled the dial up the volume. She could see the world and the way it wasn’t meant to be.

She had folded up her blanket since She started. she chart time in tasks so there’s always a keen, set to a low volume in the back of her mind, wail pitched to the panic that she was not getting enough done. Maybe she was nervous about mother’s reaction when she comes into her room and realizes she didn’t eat as much as she lied & said she did. maybe she wasn’t pretending the nervousness wasn’t actually about going her mamu marrying into her molester’s family.

She unraveled ideas from her trauma but it was grand and decaying, combination so political that wasn’t personal, something that reconciled herself and her duty that awaited an inevitable loss.

She realized her longing had spilled out the window when she heard it landed on the stairs below, something wet, like her heart falling.  The privilege of worrying about brows & cosmic emptiness & not the possibility that the coming week would put more children in her family in danger & her silence made her complicit. her bones fly away from her face, cutting through her mother to make her. She painted them over with gold and lies. the show must go on.

Why live for “what comes next?”


Whenever we look out for doing something or having something we always think in a way what is going to happen or what had happened earlier with us, irrespective of if we want to that work or not. isn’t it?

Time: we all have it, but who knows how much, why to compromise your happiness and satisfaction?

the following depicts what I meant.:-

” One day you will look in the face

of the demon, which going to

tear you up. you will left nothing.

Not too much of exploring to

no more of anything, just thinking.

What you worried was all about the coming things to

do without the present which was quite boosting.

Now you will be left with the unsatisfaction to

The life which could be full of wonders and surprises.

But you were saving…. but you were thinking

what others will say? what others will think?

Isn’t it?

Life will be always be attached to the word,”DEATH”.

Which won’t be separated until the end.

do you have the Fear of Death? the fear of

Unsatisfactory life?

Why don’t to live every second, every minute

with satisfaction and giving full dedication to the things

you wanna do.

Or simply you love to do.

There is no tomorrow, no yesterday.

All possibilities are gathered in one word.


If you live in today the fear of death cant

scare you at all.

Because you have lived your life to the fullest.

No-man’s-land !


The road was shattered, the patches of fire were spread all over the place and I was running as fast as I could. People were running to save their breath. As I was running there were sounds of explosions and terrifying sound of people saying ” help me”. A women half buried under the burning car, a man with a half leg cut crawling on the road to save his life, a child hidden behind the unrooted- shattered tree &many more and eyes of all people were full of fear and a pain which bring the shit out of your heart. I went near the traffic lights trying to breathe and recollect what had happened. An injured man was passing the road, but the car behind him exploded with explosive and I say the flames and heard the voice of scattering soul but couldn’t help this out as the sight was full of fire and smell of explosives which was leading to restlessness and lost the track of senses after seeing the burning man.

” wake up – wake up”, a sound that was constant for few minutes, it was my mother.My eyes were swollen and opened a little. I was trying to recall what happened? What I saw was it real? was that the burning man rescued or not? And where was I? how I Came here?

The doctor said to calm down and checked the BP and ran other tests and injected some medicine which again caused a drowsiness from which I came to senses. The sound of people over that miserable place was, again and again, coming back in my head all the night.

I woke up and I was told that I was stuck at a bomb blast in the region and all that I  saw was the sight of the explosion. The impact of heat was still on the nerves and the faces full of fear were not leaving the sight whenever I close my eyes.

I was discharged in the evening and decided to go at the sight of occurrence and saw the disgrace, back destroyed area. If I wasn’t rescued at the correct time, I would be the part of the ashes or the black dust.there was stairs at the end of that road, I just stepped on that stairs and I slipped and …….

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa……….. I woke up on the bed in my room. This was a nightmare! Which started from Nomansland and ended in nowhere.

 If you ever face the death so close, what the last thought came to your mind?( think about that).

I thought a lot about this nightmare. The point of blogging this out was you never know what future holds for you or if you are going to live or not.

So, do what you want today. Respect mankind and be kind!