It’s been a while,

A long long time,

A distance, 

Of a thousand miles,

Yet, when I look back,

And think it through,


Still reminds me of you.

“What is that?”,

I ask myself,

“Nothing! nothing!”, 

Comes the pat reply,


This smile,

That slightly brightens,

My eyes, on cue.

©Darshana Mehta



When anger reigns,

Love refrains,

Beneath that storm,

Is a sea of pain,

How easily like,

Writing on sand,

Did you lose your brain,

But tell me,

O angry one,

Will it help you,

Scrub off those stains,

Stains, washed ashore,

When the sea of pain,

Swept over what,

You had written,

On the sand,

In your very own hand.

©Darshana Mehta


Trying to find a pattern?


You’ll find none,

My feelings, honestly,

Aren’t progressions,

Neither arithmetic, nor geometric,


Up and down, up and down,

Oscillating between extremes, 

At times just moving,

Around in circles,

Or is it an ellipse?

With a latus rectum,

Not so constant. 

In my quest of,

Finding my centre,

Don’t make me,

Lose my origin,

My potential is an asymptote,

Reaching infinity,

But in which direction? 

Let the chaos,

Of my feelings,

Increase the entropy,

Of the universe,

Let my thoughts perform,

Brownian motion on,

The river of imagination. 

Don’t force me to be a,


Don’t put a “lim”,

On my possibilities,

Even the rainbow is an arc and,

No two snowflakes are the same,

Yet, can you contain them?

©Darshana Mehta

The Blue Train 

I want to sit in a

Blue blue train,

I want to sleep with the 

Rattling in my brain,

I want to feel the sunlight

Dance on my cheeks,

I want to hear what 

The wind has to speak,

I want to let my 

Fingers tickle the air,

I want to have

The starry skies to stare. 

I want to travel

Places near and far, 

I want to learn 

The language of the stars,

I want to play hopscotch

On water puddles,

I want to find my home

In Mother Nature’s cuddles,

I want to sit in a 

Blue blue train,

I want to liberate myself,

From all pain. 

© Darshana Mehta



Pointless conversations,

Feelings left unconveyed,

Hidden amidst, abbreviations

And overemphasized exclamations. 

843 emoticons under her tips,

But none describe,

The emotions suppressed,

Behind her lips,

The pings and the chirps,

No more excite her,

As the lines of diversity 

And originality blur. 

Tired of the false smiles,

And the fake condolences,

Tired of hyped up dramas,

Over misunderstood nuances. 

All she wanted was a listener,

To hear her heart’s anxieties,

But all she got were benchers,

Passing their judgemental reveries. 

Curiosity kills the cat,

They always said,

Her teenage​ inquisitiveness,

Is pulling her now, into this vortex. 

Busy following the latest trends,

Sucked into the world of pretense,

She wanted to stop and 

Look back at herself. 

What had she done,

What was she doing,

Moving around in circles,

Unable to fulfill her destiny. 


In this so called sanctuary,

#saveme is all what,

She manages to scream. 

©Darshana Mehta 


Spreading its lilac wings,

Against the blue sky,

It sank down to,

Kiss the Horizon,

A sweet goodbye. 

Little did it know,

Two strangers lounged,

On the rocks below,

Basking under the,

Irridescent glow. 

Melting away,
Fusing with the Horizon,

Causing unintentional,

Bonds to form,

Breakable by none. 

Two hearts held,

As they together beheld,

This manifestation of elegance,

Far from betrayals,

Far from pretense. 

As the sun set,

Something rose, amidst them,

Who knew that, 

The distant ball of fire could, 

Create new sparks betwixt them. 

© Darshana Mehta 

(Qürub means Sunset in Azerbaijani)


Unlaced my shoes,

Unzipped my pants,

Unbuttoned my shirt,

Unclothed myself. 

There it is,

You’ve now seen,

My naked body whole,

But are you ready,

To behold, 

My naked soul?

You’ll celebrate my body,

Relish it like a carousal,

But will you panegyrize,

For my soul sepulchral?

My grace, my curves,

You will undoubtedly,

Fall admist,

But are you ready to test

Your diligence

As my aptitude twists?

My eyes seraphic,

My countenance ethereal,

Will one day fade. 

A labyrinth of malignity,

A circuit of devilry

Is all that will remain. 

I can’t promise only

Gaeity, on this excursion

But it will be,

Worth the perpetration. 

Touch my denuded body,

And you may have your way,

But try my exposed soul,

And I’ll be indubitably yours


And a day. 

So, as I stand,


In front of you,

You may choose your view. 

©Darshana Mehta