The Last Chance

The Last Chance

I didn’t take the wheelchair!
The nurse was sceptical
when I confidently said
that I can walk downstairs
…even though I was too weak,
my will was strong enough.

I remember how strange it felt
I was walking after many days
It felt surreal…I was going home!
The smell of sanitizer slowly faded
as I walked towards the elevator
awaiting it to open its arms one last time.

With a ding we reached the ground floor
The nurse lead the way
deftly balancing my reports under her arm.
I clearly remember the cold feeling
as we crossed the morgue…
I willed myself to look straight ahead.

Light poured in from the entrance
I blinked to adjust my eyes and ears
to the light and sound of the day.
Aah…it felt warm…it felt good…alive!
My parents stood there waiting for me
I was finally going home.

But the smell and sounds still haunts…
peeping from behind the curtain of mind
Unwilling to be shaken off
or even forgotten…nah…not yet!
Neither the ambulance sirens
nor the flatlining machines.

That was a close call…too close.
I breathe today…many lost their breaths
shutting down the organs one by one
and in a matter of minutes…end came.
Pillows stayed wet with last tears
someone struggled hard but lost…alas!

No amount of words can empathize
what one has lost… time is irreversible.
Nope, words do not affect me anymore
for I lost a big part of me when I struggled
to breathe…an endless race against time
thinking perhaps this was my last breath!

This pandemic isn’t a joke
but the gravity of the situation
is only realised by those who faced it.
Is it really necessary to bet on one’s life?
It’s all over the moment you stop breathing.
Not everyone gets a last chance!

©2021 Taruchaya. All rights reserved.

How I see myself

How I see myself

Here’s an honest confession
without sounding nice…
I used to see myself
through stained glass eyes.

Different words coloured
differently hued images,
as I began to believe them,
which caused further damages.

I thought I was incomplete…
but then the screams of my soul
silenced others’ opinions of me.
I rediscovered myself – felt whole.

I realised when I looked within
through my now opaque eyes,
I’m as beautiful as I see myself…
I don’t need a pitiful disguise.

©2021 Taruchaya. All rights reserved.

Song credit: Gryffin – Cry feat John Martin.

Fallen Leaves

Fallen Leaves

A fallen leaf is still beautiful,
if you consider the seasons it saw and evolved.

The bright colours look pretty,
hiding the dark difficulties it remarkably resolved.

Displaced from home…carried by wind,
it survives with whatever it receives.

Though discontented, we live our lives,
growing and changing like fallen leaves!

©2021 Taruchaya. All rights reserved.

Be Like The Mountain

Be Like The Mountain

the blue mountains…the endless stream
silence echoes
in my daydream

I see the clouds bow, rest on their knees
when the rain sings along
with the humming breeze

be like the mountain – determined and tall
let the world pass by,
nothing stops afterall

you were meant to be at this very place
make your own mark,
don’t just leave a trace

watch the clouds disappear to let light in
stand tall in your eyes
love the light within

Photo and poem © Taruchaya 2021. Music credit- Stay, Angel’s Last Mission on Earth: Love ( Korean series)

Stacked Stones

Stacked Stones

I stacked the stones
one at a time
reminiscing the bygones
not worth my dime
one each for the hurdles
I had already crossed
weighing the bundles
of precious years I lost
yet I did gain
found myself and my voice
with the strength of pain
I made my choice
to listen to my heart
cherish my identity
with courage to restart
and discover serenity

©2021 Taruchaya. All rights reserved.

Twilight Walks

Twilight walks
Strolling on a hot summer twilight,
under a canopy of crystals bright.
I saw the reflection of stars etched
on your sparkling sweaty forehead.

You’re like the night sky I love to see,
wearing the satin of shimmering galaxy.
Embracing both light and darkness;
thawing my frigid loneliness.

And I…I stand frozen to the ground,
while the world keeps buzzing around.
Like the earth I look up to you,
admiring my favourite view.

I know you’re gazing back at me –
moving, yet stopping to see,
if I’m still there – the one you know…
quietly watching me long and slow.

From these twilights to daybreak,
we still put everything at stake…
to meet, to see, to hold hands and talk
yearning for another twilight walk.

©2021 Taruchaya. All rights reserved.

Veil of Mist

Veil of Mist

the quiet night speaks in whispers
shy flowers murmur
how the friendships of summer
were meant to eventually disperse
the stars blooming at night
merge into the blue skylands
leaves clasp their empty hands
beckoning the warm daylight
to revive them with its breath
no one admires the bowers
that gallantly protect the flowers
from scorching to death
the breeze like a new bride
lightly walks with a veil of mist
I try to hold time in my fist
admiring life with zeal and pride

Photo and Poem © Taruchaya 2021

© Taruchaya

Shooting star

I wish to be a shooting star
so that I hear your heartfelt wish
Then streak across the vast dark sky
and happily break into pieces to fulfil it
Wherever I fall I’ll scatter love
You’ve given me all the love you got
No more regrets will pinch me
I’ve finally joined the dots
You and me shall always be
Like the stars in the arms of the sky
The sky is there to stay like you
and I’ll live in the twinkle of your eye

©2021 Taruchaya. All rights reserved.



at the bend of the stream
the water stretches its arms
on the submerged gravel
the gaze of the mountains
I see
I hear
I feel
The love
The joy
The tranquility
I yearn for when I’m away
from this heaven – my refuge
the toxic thoughts distant
the aches of the heart and mind
at the bend of my life
the water heals me

©2021 Taruchaya. All rights reserved.

A Chest of Memories

A Chest of Memories

Where is my chest of memories?
I've clutched onto them long.
Yet now I don't remember;
something must be terribly wrong.

Either things are slipping away
or my mind is skipping things.
I thought I kept them safe,
yet no hint somehow springs.

Brimming precious memories
with lingering bittersweet taste,
delicately pieced together
with a few I was unable to paste.

All of it is only mine to keep;
the shards still make me bleed.
A cure for the wounds is also there-
my memories are all I need.

I search for them everywhere
scavenging the depths of my mind,
or any other place it could be
under the heavy rugs of time.

©2021 Taruchaya. All rights reserved.