Why am I doing this?

Is there any use

Is there any point 

Yet one keeps going


Trying to form a purpose

Trying to find some use

Yet its not enough

Enough to keep going

So what do you do? 

Do you stop

 Or keep going?

You keep going

 If you like what you do.

Image credits: https://www.netimpact.org/blog/purpose-and-the-big-picture-the-how-to-guide-to-defining-your-purpose

By: Ayesha Khosla

A review on ‘The Wide Sargasso Sea’

‘The Wide Sargasso Sea’ by Jean Rhys, works as a prequel to Charlotte Bronte’s famous Victorian novel ‘Jane Eyre’, where Bertha is portrayed as the ‘madwoman in the attic’. Rhys explores the reasons that lead to Antoinette’s/Bertha’s descent into ‘madness.’ Antoinette, is time and again uprooted from her comforts and oppressed by societal norms, as well as, from a very young age, forced to see and experience the wrath of the colonialist society, which prevents her from finding an identity for herself. Antoinette is set apart from the rest of the community she can’t characterise herself in the way she is expected to. This book illustrates Antoinette’s childhood as one characterised by extreme tribulation and a confused identity; this childhood instability can be viewed as the main reason for her loss of soul.In the end, her husband’s lack of passion drives her to lose her bearings. Therefore, marriage is the most compelling metaphor that the author uses to portray the changing life circumstances and subsequent loss of identity of Antoinette. 

By: Ayesha Khosla

‘The Grass Is Singing’- book review

A review of ‘The Grass is Singing’ by Doris Lessing

‘The Grass is Singing’ is a very thoughtful and fascinating story written by Doris Lessing. She is a postcolonial feminist writer who has depicted and highlighted the hubris of the society. She has not only focused on the extreme form of hate for a particular race in the minds of people, but also shown how hippocratic the society is; a society that forces people to commit to certain relationships, like marriage, even though its not good for their wellbeing. But the idea of being “accepted’ is so potent in peoples lives that they are ready to lose everything, even their own sanity. I enjoyed reading this book, hope you all enjoy it as much!

Written by: Ayesha Khosla

False world

Living in a fantasy

 A fantasy of perfection

Believing that its possible

But Existing only in dreams

Away from reality there is something 

Something not perfect at all

But perfect for you

What do you do? 

The confusion gets to you

You can’t decide

So you stick to fantasy

Soon Perfection becomes a prison for you

It feels fine for sometime 

But it shuts your path

To what could be if only it remained a fantasy 

Image credits: https://www.maxpixel.net/Dark-Man-Sky-Night-Guy-Cliff-Evening-Silhouette-923417

Written by: Ayesha Khosla


I remember the first time I saw him,

Just standing with his pals,

Chuckling on juvenile jokes without a care,

He was far from perfection, 

But still beckoned me to him, 

Like a moth drawn to flame, 

He was sheer torture to watch, 

A friendship maneuvered towards love. 

I knew, I was a gone game when I set my gaze on him, 

A walking greek god, 

His eyes so intense that I could get lost in them forever,

Voice so alluring that he could talk for hours and hours,

But I would still be left dumbstruck.

My senses were ruptured, 

I was mesmerized by him.  

The boldness in his walk, 

The sarcastic comebacks that left me with an open mouth,

The arrogance that oozed out of him in waves, 

The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, 

Or how they squinted with anger brewing a storm inside them. 

He was a walking time bomb. 

And I was not the one going to set it off. 

What had started as a mere infatuation,

Had become a full-blown affair. 

The dark-eyed boy had captured my heart, unknowingly. 

But there was a twist in fate, 

He belonged to another,

I was a victim of unrequited love, 

And suddenly I was repulsed by the fondness, 

I pridefully carried for him. 

I was in a reverie, 

Whether to go with the flow, as he said;

Or to do what was right, 

And not be the “other” girl. 

Temptations won, 

And I met him halfway to connect my lips to his. 

Butterflies flew in the pit of my stomach, 

Fireworks exploded in my brain, 

And sparks erupted where he touched me. 

Lust had overthrown rationality, 

His touch arose a fire,

That wouldn’t see reasoning of what’s right and wrong, 

If being perplexed was a mental disorder,

I would be in an institution;

Because that one boy whose dark eyes seem to tone down to the lightest brown, 

When the lustrous sun rays hit them, 

Had left me confused; 

Propelled me into a world of if’s and what’s, 

But I was thrown back into reality,

The thought of certain doom my heart would face terrified me, 

I receded into a black void of pins and needles,  

Cause heartbreak was one incurable disease, 

That had no remedy, 

Which tortured till death do us apart. 

Mulling over had become a daily chore, 

And envy gripped my core when I saw them together, 

What had I gotten myself into? 

What had I become? 

An empty, vile vessel of treachery? 

Love had changed me for the very worse, 

This wasn’t me, 

Surrounded by many, 

Yet, I still felt alone. 

Dreaming days were officially over,

And I was hit by a gut wrenching punch, 

A punch of bitter truth,

That showed me that deceiving someone is not in my blood, 

Made me see the actuality of the situation through my friends view, 

And suddenly it was all over… 

Image credits: https://www.flickr.com/photos/19787482@N04/6866292171

Written by: Ashima Chaudhary


This poem precisely describes the kind of occasional nightmares I have.

A dreadful nightmare

Somewhere in the wilderness

Some barren land

Some land I’ve never seen

I see my sister

Then I see a women

Lying on the land

as dead as a corpse

with a man besides her

calling for help

I don’t know why but I’m inclined to help

I pick her up and take her 

I try to find help on this barren land

My sister striding along with me


 we are on top of a cliff

 with nothing but hollow death beneath


The dead corpse comes alive

The next thing I know my sister is dead!

I don’t know why 

she jumped of the cliff!

My heart bursts and I jump off too

but my dream is unkind 

so it brings me back.

to feel the pain

the pain I never had

It hurts so bad 

and it doesn’t stop

Till the painful shock grabs me out

out of this nightmare.

Image credits: http://www.sunlightafterdark.com/2013/04/winter-solace-forest-cliff-concept.html

By: Ayesha Khosla


I wrote this poem after I learnt what it was like to fail, repeatedly, yet emerge stronger from it.

Failure is a silent grave

yet the sound is so loud

that eyes follow me everywhere                     

seeing me fall in the deep black hole

but helping hands are nowhere.

Failure is as silent as a poker game

played during the cold winter.                         

Freezing my fingers but making my brain run wild.

Failure is a storm

A merciless destruction 

Finally settled

But soon forgotten

Like a fading shade in the light blue sky                 

Revealing the empty vastness of the empty sky 

unveiling the empty  world

 As if nothing ever mattered.

The horror of failure flows through my veins

erupting them when I fall in a deep hole                

the pain

the hurt

the sadness

makes me melt like snow

The feeling of void flows through my body             

The void speaks to me in a way no one speaks to me

Failure hurts too much to show

it makes me self-doubt more and more      

no matter what I do

no matter how hard I work

forcing me ask…

Am I destined to fail?

Is god experimenting on me

to see what happens if someone fails                              

To see how much sorrow lays insides my tired heart

which forces me to experience things no one else has?

Failure forces the devil inside to rise and say

its enough

I quit!

 I feel  lost and alone

Directionless and torn

depressed and ashamed                                           

lost in a black hole

with no one to go to

no one to tell

how badly I am failing

and how deep down inside the ditch

I have fallen.

Finally failed and fallen

yet there is always a rope to climb

endless craving everyday

craving to succeed everyday

doors open

doors close

doors are endless

there’s always hope

hope makes me work

it forces me to get up

and eventually making me succeed slowly and silently

silencing those who said

dreams are meaningless and dumb.

Written by: Ayesha

Image credits: https://cinemaburn.wordpress.com/2012/10/20/the-spiral-staircase/

Dooms day

I wrote this short piece to precisely express how I feel before every exam.

My life is falling apart as the dooms day comes closer

Now my mind is infected with a split personality

Sometimes it wakes 

Sometimes it races

Sometimes its as dormant as a coma patient;

which is most of the time.

The past

My purpose to write this piece was to relieve the stress I had been facing as a result of my exams, but it turned out to be directed at something completely different.

A burden on my heart,

A weight on my soul,

A ghost on my mind.

I can’t seem to escape the ghost 

I just seem to glide with it-

My mind fighting the ghost but my destiny gliding with it.

It becomes the toad of my life;

It opens a hollow in my heart for so long that my heart starves; 

My heart starves while I race with time.

The fantasy of escape becomes distant and slowly my mind is accustomed to it;

It no longer resists the ghost: 

It accepts it.


The ghost comes closer and closer:

So close that it penetrates my soul


My soul wants revenge.

Revenge for the pain inflicted on me!


The ghost chases my mind, 

My mind races the ghost

But it cannot do it any longer.

 It tries to obey

But it fails time and again

It fantasizes about its past,

It fantasizes about future,

But can’t seem to stay awake any longer

It comes to a halt.

It does nothing.

It seems to sleep. 

For the longest time. 

Helping my soul to heal in peace…