appraising identity

why 176 cms? 60 kgs? — fucks to give?

my anatomy//structure is a wilderness, drinking
through the air, one part mulch, the other
a hybrid of gas-dreams.

why rate my brown-bread-skin through
its number of moles and grafts of love?

why try to measure the length&girth of my life through
an arbitrary number of years?

my freedom isn’t your sugar & flour ration
that you can scale and take away per your
desired capacity for consumption?

how do you measure the taste of my ilk,
my sun-settled eyes, the fight of my cauterized

how do you see and experience my queer body, in-
tact, (w)hole, sweet&sour&salty like the rim
of your empty shot glass?

why do i succumb to the standards set in my core
by the (ir)regularity of your burnished soul?

i shred figures and hopes, letting the well-paced,
untold story of its desire to take its toll, leaving me
to rot, with a rumbling disdain for this mirror of
your eyes, that cannot tell or realize
the plurality of my roles.

© Anmol Arora

Day 29
(Inter)National Poetry Month

Edit: (Previous title, the value of existence) Linking it up with The Tuesday Platform at WRT (June 4, 2019), where I am hosting this week and I have shared a poem by Kamala Das for inspiration and acknowledgment.



a sense of disbelief —

people pleasing people,
shadows falling a-p-a-r-t
in their own figurative voids

make for an entirely new
picture, atypical of agonies,
realized but not really felt.

whiteness doesn’t scare me,
lights measure my body mass
and frequency of my beats.

the ground shakes, angles
come down, and i learn to
belie that very disbelief and

know, inhaling is vital for this
and every other moment
to pass.


© Anmol Arora 2018

Image source (Deep Inhalation Of The Cosmic Breath Painting by Ganesh Bhat)
Linking it up with the Tuesday Platform at With Real Toads


I have been working on a new Insta handle for over a month now, for literary and creative posts: @anmol.ha.
For contact, you can reach out to me through my multiple profiles, enlisted here.

Life, right now

Okay, it’s been a long time coming. It’s strange how this place used to be a repository of all my horrid experiences in life and how it provided me refuge from the insurmountable grief of being alive and wading through the darkness of my mind, and how I stopped doing that entirely, focusing instead on something that came out to mean a lot to me. For a change, I am reverting to the original intent behind everything, perhaps behind every word I have ever written.

I know and I acknowledge that living is not easy. My college education made me aware of the social condition of so many people and communities all over the world. My experiences pale in comparison to those who struggle to even survive — death, illness, starvation, violence, war, et al. govern their lives and their actions every minute. I am so privileged to have a roof over my head, regular meals and clean drinking water to keep my body alive, healthcare provisions when I am sick and financial support for basic amenities and some leisure. How I live may deem to be luxurious by many and I am often ashamed of that. I try to be politically and socially conscious, raise my voice in whatever way I can against destitution and exploitation, and care about people around me. This is of course not enough.

I am not enough, even when I have all these privileges and luxuries. I am constantly fighting my own self, my own condition, my own mind, my life which seems to be adamant at breaking me down. Perhaps I am complicit in this internal violence. And it hurts at times. Otherwise, I have in a way blocked myself from feeling, from dealing with my own emotions or expressing them in a way which is direct and confrontational. So, I am doing this to try to undo my own resistance to the acceptance of my condition. Intrusive thoughts are a part and parcel of my everyday existence — panic attacks, suicidal thoughts and social anxiety are so inundated in me that I no longer heed my own pain.

Yes, I had to deal with some situations and circumstances which have left a deep impact on me, made me snivel and cry in the corner of my bedroom, holding my own self to get through the hour and the day. ‘One day at a time’: I had come to believe that as a dictum to help me through every day. What a limited condition to keep alive!

I finally had some control because I was busy for three years with my education. There were times when I would find myself in a dark chasm, but I could find my way out, find a light at the periphery of my vision and get on with it. Since completing that, it’s been three months and it seems I am back to where I was. Life has come a complete circle and I am still reeling from the things I had come to ignore and bury within my psyche.

I am not doing good. I don’t know what lies ahead, but I find myself not caring about it. Incidentally, a friend brought it to my attention after a pitiful thing happened to me today. She said that I am displaced from some solace the routine had provided me and that I am giving up now and that is making it worse. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I may be giving up on everything, and not just my career or romance or other sensory experiences.

And yet, I am not able to do anything about it. I don’t know how to take care of myself anymore. At least I am waking up every day, trying to read and write, having one or two meals, drinking plenty of water…

I am putting it all out there just for the small comfort that I am sharing it. How I always have this need to be understood! This is the only thing that keeps me going, for now, to be able to express and reflect upon my own breaking.

That is all.



I exist in the voices,
in sounds-

gentle, ricocheting against
the loud bass in the background
and speaking in hushed tones
in corridors where the tiles
are no longer bleached white.

I exist in that TV volume, defined
by the bars that identify the
intensity of my intent,

exist in the grrr grr grinding
of thoughts into an unpalatable
mush, that I got served for

I am defined by the water striking
the s(k)in(k) surface, I am that

you no longer pay attention to, Continue reading

let me be.

I walk in the shadows-

there’s a slight rustle of the leaves

the sun touches my foot-steps
through the smog,


there’s a slight rustle of the leaves
behind me.

the cloud breaks open to reveal
the spillage of blue, her eyes

trace the contours of my existence.

numb thoughts are strewn on my path,
the world is asleep and I, awake.

so let the winds be, let me be.


Image source: LIGHTS AND SHADOWS — PALETTE KNIFE Oil Painting On Canvas By Leonid Afremov

Linking it up with Poets United Midweek Motif- Tranquility.

This is Poem # 4 for my 30 Days, 30 Poems Challenge.


I see her face through
a veil of clouds, I touch
her eyes, against
my heaving chest,

tear after another, lining
my heart with the grievous
tendency of the dying tree,
left battered, uninhibited,
surrendered, to be guillotined

by the vivacity of this shore
where dead footprints walk the night.

she is a chance encounter in my memories.

I walk along the shore
once again. I see her,
in the sand between
my toes.

my body is bare,
bathing in the rain of
subsistence, that wrinkles
my skin into a tangible

she never was. I was.


Image Credits: “Decompose” by Zaldy Icaonapo

Linking it up with Photo Challenge # 85 at MLM Menagerie and The Tuesday Platform at With Real Toads.

This is Poem # 3 for my 30 Days, 30 Poems challenge.


What I want to do?

What I want to achieve in life?

How I am going to achieve it in life?

Do I need fame?

Do I want a happy life or the one with the fame?

Who am I?

Why I am here?

What is the reason behind my existence?

Who am I?

Who am I?

Who am I?

The questions- the never-ending questions. I started with asking myself What I want to do! and that question led me to many other questions and finally to the question where I ask about my existence…. where I want to know myself…. where I want to know my purpose in life…. where I want to know- WHO AM I?

Today I again started pondering over the topic I have already written about sometime back…. it was an essay competition in school and I had so many topics to chose from but my curiosity… my inner-self made me chose this particular topic… I don’t know why! But I started writing anything and everything. The essay came out to be good but made me even more doubtful about myself… made me even more curious about why I wrote those things.

Today I am posting my essay- may be you would come to some conclusion…. some conclusion I am not still clear with.

Here’s that essay-


WHO AM I? – The question very well understood, but often unanswered just because the answer is very much unknown. It is as simple as that. This fact is ironic, being one doesn’t know about oneself….doesn’t understand the power, the capability one has got. This unknown proximity, rather the power is what forms a being.

WHO AM I? – I am an individual, born to roam around and know this never ending world. I am a being who is unaware of me. I am no different – I am ‘just like’ any other person who enters and exits the world ‘just like’ a storm. But still I am no similar – Because I am myself – the self that exists only in me.

WHO AM I? – This question is now spelling some magic, its hypnotic: teasing me that still I don’t know the real myself. But now I have some idea – I am the ‘SPIRIT’, a significant spirit, for I make the world, the world doesn’t make me….I live the world! It is just because of the so many significant spirits like me; the world is there. Each ‘myself’ in each spirit is contributory – this fact can’t be denied.

 WHO AM I? – I am the ‘AIR’, blowing across awakening one and all. I am the life-giver and sometimes the life-snatcher, for my life as well as life of many others rests on any swift blow I have. I am the purifier and sometimes the spoiler, playing the game of character: for my character as well as character of many others is influenced by the constituents I have within.

WHO AM I? – I am the ‘WATER’, seeping smoothly everywhere and anywhere. I am the coolant and sometimes the heater, for I can be quiet and ferocious as well. I am sometimes blue and white some other times; reflecting what I see depending on the surroundings I live in.

WHO AM I? – I am the ‘LAND’, present prominently all around. I am the shelter and sometimes the decayer, for I stay in my own way, generally uninfluenced by everything and anything. I have varied colors and faces, depending on the mood and thinking I have.

WHO AM I? – I am the ‘FIRE’, spotted anywhere so bright and furious. I give warmth but still I can burn, I can be calm and ferocious as well. I rule myself and enacts the scene, depending on the amount of peace I have.

WHO AM I? – In simple words, I am the World covering all the elements – thus each and every expression and the image I show. I control the place I live in, I make the place I want.

The question is no longer a teaser – its now an encourager making me understand each and every concept that determines me.

WHO AM I? – I just wrote what I can think of. But realizing myself is not just thinkable but understandable.

WHAT I MEAN TO MYSELF…I am what I think of myself. When it comes to give a personal view, I am a psychological creature ruled by the thoughts and the spiritual aura found in me. I am not just a living creature – I am rather a thinkable creature capable of knowing and analyzing what I do. I am a soulful creature making the inner me – the individual that relies on instincts, not just thoughts. I am a fluid creature with all the necessities flowing in me for survival.

I am not just what I show – I am rather something I shadow. WHO AM I? – The question so complicated – the words are few but flowing, never ending. The more complicated is the power I realize which resides in me… on the path of being “KNOWN”.

That’s all what I wrote… That’s the limit till where I can reach….

Now, here’s a video of someone experienced…spiritual answering the same question-