History, Literature, Nature, poetry, Uncategorized


I grew up beyond the grey walls….

Walls that changed hues under varied spells,

mama would strictly keep me inside.


The thick silver parapets adorned tiny holes,

black ashen specks from where I marveled

at the cruel oddity of the world.


A faded sepia of Papa hung at a crooked

angle-tilted towards outside,shadowing

other picture-frames.


The grim monsoons brought spree of life

stamping on foundations of boundless

hedge, spreading its tentacles…


Vile serpentine vines of bougainvillea invaded

sacred space, by keeping me in restraints

stealthily crawling into me.


I see scaly lizards licking the swollen damp

crusts of the walls, that now turned

purplish hue, squeaking hushly;

“papa zedes, papa zedes

papa zedes, papa zedes”


Terrified of clicking sounds,every monsoon

I meticulously filled up fissures with 

Papa’s old black and whites.


Once smacked across the sugar face smiling,

I always beamed when I sobbed inside,

tongue at loss of words….

I covered the last fissure with the only picture 

I had of Papa.


Forever barricading myself with-in walls, I

metamorphosed into silver, a mass of

cemented blood in concrete limbs.

Fortifying myself of the lingering echoes…

“papa zedes, papa zedes

papa zedes, papa zedes”



20 thoughts on “Metamorphosis”

  1. ah, this is beautiful Tanya. The juxtaposition between a world of walls (no life) and a world of monsoons which brought spree of life is splendidly done. And you growing up… I love this poem!

    1. Dearest G, how very kind of you! I truly appreciate your kind insight and astute reading of my works, just know how humbled I’m coming from a poet like you! I’m so glad you liked it, the poem is a reflection of inner mind, my father and the walls I built eventually! πŸ™

    1. Shantanu πŸ™, I’m very humbled with your kind insight, you are always so encouraging! The poem definitely reflects my inner world, along with the richness of Milieu I grew up in. ❀️

    1. You have made my day with your amazing insight and appreciation! The only reward befitting is my heart-felt gratitude for stopping by and reading it so deeply, truly appreciate it!

  2. A beautiful and powerfully written poem.

    A combination of Poe describing imprisonment behind walls and the short stories of Dostoevsky examining the sorrows of existence.

    Life intermingled with death.

    And human memories caught within the tempests of nature.

    1. Thanks alot Count, truly appreciate your insight. Wow Poe and Dostoevsky are both my favorite story-tellers, I am surprised that you mentioned them in your comment. Life intermingled with death…..wonderfully framed! Thanks so much 🌹🌹

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