Category: Poetry



Cell 1 said one thing which
Cell 2 opposed
Then came Cell 3 to discuss the matter when
Cell 4 proposed
An idea originally of Cell 5’s.
To the chaos entered Cell 6
Creating a ‘disorder’
Which Cell 7 prefixed ‘bipolar’ .
Variety of cell opinions caused
A roaring stream of noise in the
Damn Brain,
to which all the cells belonged.
The voices rose to a level
Pushing her to jump.

She jumped.

from a height she was

once scared of.

    ~Sruthi Sikhamani


Cleopatra my Love


Oh Cleopatra!
The woman of infinite variety
Your fickle emotions,
subtle gestures, boundless charm
and volatile feelings
that make up your variety,
-I’d dealt only in books.
And wondered
Am i capable of this variety?
A complete human avatar, i believe you are
in all its blacks and whites and grays.

Cleopatra, my love,
Motley Fabric suits you best
For in it your variety’s well expressed.
Motley fabric;  classy but!
-not the mediocre,  strictly.
Strictly, ’cause you’re majestic, originally.
And majestic calls for elegance.

Variety is your beauty,  Cleopatra
Your physicality though grand,
is not as beautiful as your variety.
Surprised like a child
wonder struck i stand
each time you show me your variety.

Variety is not just your beauty, Cleopatra
It’s more importantly your strength
To keep moving
from blues to rainbows
and for the beauty beyond
– glossing up the matte reality.
And the sudden bliss it discovers
Could be as beautiful as
Koi no yokan.
And if this bliss ends abruptly,
you can always turn to your beauty,
which is
your variety.

-Sruthi Sikhamani

The Hateful Mirage


Dazed has been the view,

Impaired, the vision,

-or rather, made impaired,

-through these polarized sunglasses,

made polarized for some

ulterior motive.

Polarized, not constantly.

Polarized, but frequently.

Stepping in innocent,

Deceitful, the illusion has been.

wavering between

the real and unreal.

Uh! The real, is there at all?

Or is it the low vision?

Pleasantries after Pleasantries,

Jaw-drop smiles,

Shady concerns and

Full-blown,but genuine hatred-

-All part of the daze.

It is boredom.

Severe boredom

Leading to a thought of escape

A victorious escape

From the illusory shit.

Only hatred is the emotion

For the one responsible

For creating this mega shit.

Mega- at least for the one’s here,  it is.

Though a spec-like shit

It may be from the aerial.

A whole bunch of nonsensical figures

With hands and legs

And a dirty mind

-As companions here it is.

– In the name of

Faux love.

Drained of heart-to-hearts

The heart is about to explode

Weight intolerant hereafter

Looking forward to the

Grand escape

Imagining new worlds

Bored with the

Furthest reaches of this one.

~ Sruthi Sikhamani


A faint emotion of empathy in me creeps.


Only after he agonizes,

Agonizes, agonizes,

And after he agonizes

much over me.

The anger-steaming blood

to him from parents had fled.

But for empathy slow-paced,

blame upon him i placed.

Silence, his nature sometimes,

i equaled to unconcern.

Diatribes, his concealed concern,

i attributed to disdain.

Unparaded Love-

on earth only he for me has.

But wisdom wakes within

only when time thumps living.


At this age, care he seeks

And a shift he pleads

From my dad, to my chap.

-(Sruthi Sikhamani)

The Onion


It’s you I liked,

for peeling me.

For peeling me-

Layer by layer,

sometimes in a hurry

and othertimes gently.

For tough I made-

to peel my peel,

through tears you did-

to peel my peel.

Light you showed

Air I breathed

Touch I felt

Songs you craved

-and all of this

as you peeled.

But if all-peeled

What be me?

So I leave,

With half skin peeled.

-(Sruthi Sikhamani)