achellappa / 13 yrs ago /


    Let me not remember you,
    As the person who left my life
    With harsh and angry words.
    If part we must,
    Then let it be with gentleness.
    Let not the act of parting cause pain,
    Apart from the pain that the parting causes.

    I will not say that I cannot live without you,
    Though in truth, I cannot.
    I will not beg you not to leave,
    As you have already begged me to let you go.
    The pain you cause me by leaving,
    Seems small compared to
    The pain it causes you to stay.
    And loving you as I do,
    I cannot ask it of you.

    So go, if you must.
    But go softly,
    And I will remember you as one
    Whom I loved and who left me,
    But without harsh and angry words.


    Get rid of it? How?
    I didn't plan for it to happen!
    I didn't ask for it! Not really!
    I just went with the flow.
    It felt natural, right, good.

    It was like a growing awareness.
    Of you, of me, of us.
    Us. Surely you cannot just say,
    Get rid of it!

    Did it mean nothing to you?
    The starry night?
    The falling stars?
    And us? Did I mean nothing to you?

    I fell in love with you.
    Suddenly there was more than me.
    There was an 'us'
    That growing consciousness inside me,
    Gaining a momentum of its own.
    A life of its own.
    Get rid of it? Why?

    You don't want an 'us'?
    How did I get here ahead of you?
    I thought we started at the same time.
    That night…under the stars…
    Yet here I am, ahead of myself,
    Outside of myself, in an 'us'
    And here you are.

    Get rid of it. I must.
    There is no other hope.
    Get over it, over you.
    There shall be no us.
    And this growing consciousness?
    This 'us'ness within me?
    Gaining its own momentum?
    I shall get rid of it.

    The Dance

    Rarely, if ever does a connection happen,
    With a person you never believed it possible,
    Giving, caring, cutting, mean,
    Careful, afraid, mocking.
    You're choosy, and I don't understand
    Why you chose me
    To open your mind to.

    You try to help, because you see.
    See me, see what's happening to me,
    What I'm going through.
    Yet you withdraw, back off,
    Afraid of intruding, getting too personal,

    And I hold back,
    Afraid of revealing too much,
    Scaring you away altogether.
    Strange dance.


    You drool on my shoulder,
    And you mock my philosophy,
    You ignore my pain,
    And celebrate my angst.

    You want to know,
    Yet you will not help.
    You seek power, but
    You will not support.

    You speak to me,
    In a language unknown,
    You listen to me,
    With half a ear.

    I'm in your life,
    And I'm not in your world,
    I exist,
    And I'm excluded.

    Like a Dog

    I like the smell of you.
    You say I'm like a dog,
    Sniffing at you to see
    If you smell of me

    I lick you and nip
    Playfully at your skin.
    Sometimes leaving scars.
    Marking you with
    my bodily fluids.
    Like a dog.

Red Indian / / 11 yrs ago
Red Indian

these drops of tears seem sweeter than honey, for the raibow colors dancing on them. congratulations!

Deepak Oberoi / / 11 yrs ago
Deepak Oberoi

a beautiful set of poems. there is healing power in your poems. thank you for sharing.

Swapna sanand / / 13 yrs ago
Swapna sanand

hi arathi. lked r poe"softly".it was tender.but i didnt get the meaning of ur poems"exclusion" and"dance".could u its explain it meaning? warmly,swapna raghu

M. Prem Kumar / / 13 yrs ago
M. Prem Kumar

softly i liked these poems greatly. the last poem is shamelessly happy, and delightful. but all the other poems probe, with precision and grace, a painful realisation that may be called "loneliness in love" -- not the traditional pangs of separation or unrequited love, but loneliness *while together* -- when the feeling of 'us' gets fractured or starts to flake off painfully -- like a fingernail. aarathi chellappa does this crisply. she does not load her poems with over-rich 'poetic' words, but uses simple everyday words in a near-conversational style -- but with surgical skill and economy. i look forward to reading more of her poems# i look forward to reading more of her poems.

noscreenname / / 13 yrs ago

dear arathi, your poem speaks of extreme emotional maturity. it hurts to read, we cannot imagine the pain of one that might have lived, to learn to let go...

REG 9266 / / 13 yrs ago
REG 9266

write something about love

REG 9491 / / 13 yrs ago
REG 9491

hello aarthi your poem are marvelous, you write from heart, keep it up

REG 8232 / / 13 yrs ago
REG 8232

softly-- very nice.. with tn krishnan playing in the background, even nicer.. -arun

noscreenname / / 13 yrs ago

nice and sensitive. liked most of them.

Manoj Menon / / 13 yrs ago
Manoj Menon

hi aarthi, these poems of yours are very nice. remarkably sensitive, they display excuciating pain with tenderness. i was very moved. yet, your last poem was very naughty. a hint of sensousness made it even delightfully naughty! very glad to read them. bye, manoj.


Monsoon Romance Contest

View Popularity Board

Contest Entries

Priyadarshi Dutta
Monsoon makeover
 By Priyadarshi DuttaNikhila stood in the terrace of her top floor flat in Dadar looking at the waterlogged patches of the road. The rains had heavily walloped the Mumbai the previous afternoon.
1 week ago
Vignesh Karnam
The Dawn of Rain.
 The rain always gathered all of my courage. I always loved the rain. I stepped out on a whim and noticed myself melting in the presence of another being. The presence so divine and lovely , I
1 week ago
Alka Girdhar
Mellowing Monsoons
 The rain fell incessantly in a continuous noisy torrent, but its seemingly immaculate fall was a mere puppet in the hands of angry gushing winds that made it sway this way and that way, this way
1 week ago
 THE LOVE OF MY LIFEBangalore. 13 February. 6pm.Samiksha: It was raining. Raining hard. I could hear the raindrops falling on our tilled roof pitter patter. I just stood there enjoying the slight
1 week ago
TheBigThinkg Blog
The Lusty Love..
 I looked at her longingly..There she was, probably with her little son next to her..I am new to this village. I had come here with four of my friends. The sacrifice festival of this village is
1 week ago
pardhaeshi ! pardhaeshi !! jAnA naheem!!! mujae choad kae !, mujae choad kae !!... Hopefully, a BhArath-shaking real story !
With the heady mix of train and rain descending on our poor Dhushyanth, the hero of this real story, name changed, who wAs really feeling like an elated yAthri, in that distant land of RAjAsthAn, without the problems of daily life weighing on him, the beat
1 week ago
 I waitfor this distant horizonto gather scattered petalsof crimson glory from its canvassinto a spongy blanketbillowing to spread its wingswith the whispering zephyrI wishnow to be let into those
1 week ago
chitra viswanathan
The magic of the rain after a storm
 “Swetha, are you ready ” asked her mother, Prema. “It is getting late. It will not be nice if we go late to receive Venkatesh.” They all got into the car. There was great
1 week ago
All I want is you..
  26th June, 2014 Mumbai 18:30 hours"Feeling numb." "As I pen this down, I''m sitting closer to the entrance, staring outside my tent so that the wetness hits me. I''m not enjoying it,
1 week ago
Shalini Prasad
The Magic the Rain Brings - Part 3
 This year, people expected a lot of rain. To say that they were disappointed would be an understatement. The monsoon season was as dry as the summer. The farmers were suffering, the lakes were
1 week ago