An unfeeling world
A cage
Could you escape?

Conform conform conform
To an older man’s importance
Could you escape?

Some want sex
Some want beauty
And some want duty

Could you escape?

Tie you in shackles of righteousness
If you tried
But who should you abide?

That people exist with no questions,
That people exist unanswered,
f&#$!! (bleep)
That rebels exist,
wallowing, deep

Why must some enjoy their disgusting lust?
Why must some innocence go bust?
Why must you unfeeling living dead go on as if nothing happened thus?

You sad pieces of living s*?!t
Know this
Someday it will bury you
In a heartless pit
Destroy your meaningless bliss

With every breath
You sleep in your living death

Not even a semblance of worth
A weight upon centuries of earth

~Aaksha Meghawat

Dedicated to


He swiped back his blonde hair with his huge hands. To get a better look at a beautiful woman walking past him.

The leaves of the bush heavy with snow, still swayed in the chilly wind outside the coffee shop. Just as he felt a little too warm in his fuzzy overcoat, the snow laden landscape outside ran a chill through his mind. Here he was sitting alone, while a thousand miles away, he pictured her sitting at her window, wondering where her life was going. A happy jazz song ’…you will always shine…’ pulsed through the background. A stark contrast to the environs of his mind.

What if they hadn’t met? What if he had stayed longer? What would happen?

It was that moment, when he walked away from her, catching a last glimpse through the glass shades, in the airport line, that her memories ran past his mind like the reminiscence of someone on a deathbed.

She walked away too. 22 hours of isolation would follow, with just a trite entertainment box for company. Two pulsating hearts, trying to overcome the negative void of absence. There was energy in love and there was energy in heartbreak too. It pushed everything down, against your brain, against your mind. Like anti-gravity. Cognitive dissonance.

“Would you like a painting? Would you like a portrait, Sir?” asked the lady outside the café.

“No not today. I don’t want a portrait madam. But could you draw me a heartbreak instead? Because if you drew me today, that’s what you would find” he thought to himself.

The song and the happy tourists walking past him were a contrast to the winter that had set in his life. He had come at a contradiction too early, too soon to understand. For the largeness and variety that the life and the world was, one’s life was too short. There was too much to do. There was too much to understand, too much to take care of.

Maybe he would win some awards. Maybe he would taste success but would this make it on his resume or blog or on any particular record of his life? Would anyone know that there was a huge part of his life, himself, that just walked away from him? Would anyone care to know? And then for everyone he would have to pretend that this was all easy, that he was here because it was meant to be. But would they know that behind the smoke screen lay a forced choice?

El Capitan

(PC: Sahil Shah)

For a thousand years
I stood…
Faceless in their minds

Witnessing stories,
Of all kinds

I too have wisdom to share,
If only they cared

I too have a soul,
A voice,
their squabbles stole

The birds sing my song,
And occasionally moan

But they
They only think
Never reach that unknown

~Aaksha Meghawat


Mermaid Vancouver

Stanley Park, Vancouver

To share with the familiar
No burdens
To share with the friend
No hurdles

Will you be my Stranger?

Listeners who only talk
Talkers who only babble
Babblers lost in their cacophonous minds
Everything’s a squabble

Will you be my Silence?

Many have come
And taken
Many have drunk
And walked away shaken

Will you be my Future?

To build a bridge
Of precarious expectation
And leave me stranded
On a ledge broken

Will you be my Keeper?

To hear everything
And judge nothing

Don’t be
My Stranger….
Just be Mine

~Aaksha Meghawat


What am I?

A state of mind

A situation

An occurrence

A floating leaf in the flowing river

A speck in the great rush

A draft in the making

An event in the rolling time

To subject my energy to the vagaries

My soul to the torment

My tranquillity to attachment

My purpose to an outcome

My resilience to results

My path to the wilderness of others

Myself to judgement

This subjection, dilution, estrangement……..

Simply no more, simply no more.