She's A Vagrant

Let's wander together!!

The Truth About Our Beautiful Nation

I have compiled a¬†Glossary to support the interpretation of my work. Feel free to check it out and enjoy reading. ūüôā


The fighter planes which once
Soiled the blue canvas
Painted it with black
Are forgotten now
But the light blue sky still remains
‘Cause beauty is beheld
But the pain ricochets

Where orange is the new black
And mankind goes insane over
Black market blues and catcalls
Where emotions have no outlet
And humanity is capsized by wrecking balls
The truth about our beautiful nation
Lies behind the white walls.



Here females are either treated as goddesses
Or are victims of eve teasing.
Here rape verdicts are left in a limbo
And its victims are stated guilty.
We talk of a changing world
But there’s a dearth of equality.
We preach feminism
But forget to enforce it.

Oh! How the night sky longs for stars
Now that they’re obliterated
By grey clouds of pollution
And the Earth seeks asylum
From the violet rays of the Sun.
The allegedly holy waters
Carry ungodly chunks of litter
And the ecosystem
Just keeps getting better.



The traffic is overwhelming

I’ll drive rash but I’ll drop you home
The green lights go down
But I won’t slow down
This is the race of my life
And sure as hell, I’m not going to lose it
Dear fellow traveller.

Ministers, mercenaries, marauders, mafias
Not merely sources of alliteration
They are the bases of political contamination
A menace to the entire civilization
They speak in rhetoric
Act without remorse
Deliver white lies
And dissemble black truths.


Here economic measures go faulty
There is no point of satiety
And money has the power to transmute
Negative to affirmative
The poor work, the rich earn
We feed ambrosia to the Deity
And the poor die of hunger
This is our nation
Where sensitivity is determined
Through likes, comments and shares.



Where orange is the new black
And mankind goes insane over
Black market blues and catcalls.
Where emotions have no outlet
And humanity is capsized by wrecking balls.
The truth about our beautiful nation
Lies behind the white walls.



We are living in an ivory tower
Blessed with milk and honey
We throw away the lemons offered by life
And drink lemonade from martini glasses
We sleep on beds of roses
And savour life like a piece of cake
Oblivious as we are.
The beacon calls, the fire alarm moans
The time has come
To confront the thorns
To bring to our nation a new morn
We have to revamp the wreck
We have to bring halcyon days back to the deck
And all we need is a reality check
And all we need is a reality check.

Featured post


Liebster Award

Thank you Mike Senczyszak for nominating me for the Liebster!  I am honoured.

The Liebster Award is all about promoting new blogs. Here we go.

The rules:

1. Acknowledge the person who has nominated you for this award
2. Answer the 11 questions that the blogger gives you
3. Give 11 random facts about yourself
4. Nominate other deserving bloggers
5. Let them know you’ve nominated them
6. Give 11 questions for the nominees to answer

My response:

1. If you had to leave your country of residence, where would you go?

Choosing between U.S.A. and France is a tough choice but France is my choice because I love its culture and I’d like to boost the bit of French vocab I know.

2. Do you primarily write freely, then edit later, or edit each sentence compulsively as you go?

I usually use a combination of both, primarily the former. My motto is ‘Thoughts first, words later’.

3. How many selfies have you taken this month?

50 (excluding hundreds of deleted ones)
I take many selfies. ūüôĄ

4. Coke or Pepsi?

None. I don’t like cold drinks.

5. Who are you most like and why; Harry Potter, Frodo, Hermione Granger, Princess Leia, or Clark Griswold?

I identify myself with Harry Potter the most because he’s brave and loyal, strong willed and obsessive. I might not show a strong manifestation of these traits but I would surely want to be like him.

6. Favorite book/novel?


7. What is your second biggest regret in life?

There was this one time when I got irritated by my friend for consistently pointing out my mistakes. I made her cry and it was then that I realised what a jerk I was being to her when she was actually trying to help me out.
It taught me a great lesson of life. I prefer to let it go instead of regretting it though.

8. Which character do you most identify with in the Breakfast Club ‚Äď nerd, druggie, jock, principal?

I haven’t watched this show but going by the literal meanings, nerd to some extent and druggie (even though i don’t do drugs but I’m lost and unaware of my surroundings most of the time).

9. What is your favorite vacation destination?

I have never been abroad. Within India I prefer Kashmir aka the heaven on Earth, at the extreme north and Kerela at the extreme south.

10. What ‚Äėfamous person‚Äô do you admire most, and why?

Lilly Singh, a famous youtuber aka Superwoman, is my role model. As a teenager, she struggled with depression and later began making youtube videos, which changed her life completely. She taught me how to be happy no matter what and that life isn’t perfect. She spreads happiness through her videos which gives her another reason to be happy.

11. What is your single¬†favorite¬†‚Äėoverindulgence meal‚Äô?

Rajma & Rice
It’s an Indian meal and probably the only reason why fellows at my school attend school on Saturday.

Eleven Random facts about me:

  1. My name’s Mahak. I’m 16 and live in India, still figuring out what to do when I grow up.
  2. I love the Divergent trilogy very much. (Maybe because I’ve read nothing else from last 2 years)
  3. I’m sporty. You offer me to play badminton or football or cricket, I would play anytime, anywhere.
  4. I love adventures, my favourite is life. (Too melodramatic, huh?)
  5. I’m dreamy, abstracted and um, vagrant?
  6. I love listening to music, watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S and solving math problems.
  7. I like mixing up with people, getting to know them and making friends, talking with them and helping them out with stuff. But at the same time I’m introverted too.
  8. I’m that kind of person people hate for being a foodie yet pitiably slim.
  9. Though I seem weak, I’m a Judo and Taekwondo champion and I’m gonna knock you out if you try to mess with me nigga.
  10. I have a fear of public speaking.

My nominees:
(Of course you’re not forced, this is optional)


My 11 questions:

  1. What is your biggest obsession?
  2. What is your favourite part about blogging?
  3. Which character of F.R.I.E.N.D.S do you consider to be your alter ego? (Or any other show, in case you don’t watch this)
  4. Which is your favourite season and why?
  5. What do you love the most/feel about India?
  6. If you were to play the role of a superhero/supervillain, which one would it be?
  7. Jeans or pyjamas?
  8. What is your single biggest dream, no matter how stupid it is?
  9. What would you prioritise- career, family, pride, love or money?
  10. Tell me something to deceive me into believing that you’re amazing. ūüėõ You’re allowed to brag.
  11. Favourite subject, if any?

A Reverie at Prairie


The green meadows of renaissance
Fete me home
Thriving on the earth
From roots of uncertainty
Resuscitating cerebral equanimity
Calefaction replaces hypothermia
And as I sip from the demitasse
Of plummeting agony
Flumped onto a wooden swing
Of lachrymose nostalgia
Satiety plenishes me again.

As my vision goes blurry, almost languid
My vagrant eyes decamp and go instead
To where the grass is not so green
A water pump, still upright
Almost overlooked, I espy
More rust than varnish
The orange-blue majesty
Possesses amour propre nevertheless
I wonder if ’tis aware of its flaws
Or is it just dissimulating into resilience

I recollect my moments.
I’d whine at the sight of a blemish
Imprecate karma for my woes
And envy mankind
For their blithe and buoyant lives
The grass is always greener
On the other side, They say.
How could I be remiss enough
Not to see haven in my stormy eyes?
The way my lips curl to form a smile?
How my cheeks scintillate after a walk of a mile?

The grass embosoms me like quicksand
And the grassland palpitates its heart out
‘Hasta la vista!’ As I stride across
The thoroughfares of reality again.

Morning Mayday

I let my yonderly soul drift 
Through the holy emboss
Crucify my sacrileges
Upon the blest Cross
And when my
Morning Mayday moans
I relinquish it with finesse
Facading every facet poss.

Oh My Savior, the Son of God
Why art thou hiding in the cloister
Of my brain?
What maelstorms dost thou have 
To bestow me with?
I have pulverised 
All that tried to collapse me
And in the light of thy aura 
I will vanquish every tempest
With your heraldry.

Broken Wheels Lament

Behold the beauty
The universe seems all 
About tulips and lilacs
About fresh green cover
And the deep blue sky

Cartwheels- The
Unsung heroes of yester year
Which then ploughed
The barren, sterile lands 
Complementary with the Herculean bull
Lie wrecked on the Elysian Fields

The rest of the world can’t hear
Broken wheels lament

In The Night

I have named it ‘In the night’ because it is this song by The Weeknd which inspired me to write on this issue. The base story includes real-life experiences of a go-go dancer so as to make it sound more realistic.


She isn’t the regular white-collar worker. She is of the stuff what werewolves are generally made of- she isn’t at night what she seems to be in the daytime.

It was her first night at the club.
Stiff and unable to find the groove in the song’s rhythm, she tried to shimmy into it with her eyes closed. It was when she opened her eyes that she discovered the hush about her.

Tattooed men in pony tails and handkerchiefs banded around their foreheads, women in black-leather vests and hot pants, and smoke so dense she didn’t even see the first beer bottle hurtling through it. When it crashed a few feet to her left the bartender flew after it and yelled at her to just keep dancing. Somehow, amid the hooting, booing and catcalls, she did.
“Go back to the convent where ya came from!” came a voice from the ruckus as another couple of bottles landed on either side of her. She danced in a trance.¬†

Something told her they weren’t actually aiming the bottles at her; that they were just trying to see if they could scare her off. She had set out to make $20 as one of the three girls dancing that night, and she wasn’t leaving without it.


Her gig at the new club wasn’t that bad as compared to her first night out.
Now a pro, she was getting paid $75 by the bar clientele to dance 40 minutes of every hour. She had to rush home to feed her kids and rest up for the week ahead at her regular day job and moonlight as a go-go dancer on Saturday. Her nine-to-five, five-day-a-week job as secretary to the hospital administrator at the City Hospital netted her only a bit more for the week than her Saturday job.

Somewhere amidst the paper bills and the crowd of slugs writhing and leering at her she discovered herself pirouetting on the nefarious beats. It wasn’t her fate, it was her obligation. An obligation to reimburse the $75 she was being paid, an obligation to dance not because she loved to but because it was her means of subsistence, an obligation to enthral the inhuman douchebags with her physical comeliness because she was a woman.

As the sweat pours down my fishnet stockings, these guys think they’re gonna take me home and score, while I’m wondering if I can throw in a load of laundry before I heat up the leftover lasagna.
~An anonymous go-go dancer

The Chemistry Between Hearts


The pupils forged ahead like warriors do on hearing the war siren. ‘Thank you ma’am!’ This time it was a concise one, unlike the usual extended syllables one. After all, it was the lunch break.


Everybody stormed through the battlefield, ready to foray, but one retreated. No, he wasn’t a coward. He was the bravest. The staunchest.¬†

‘So you were waiting for me.’ said a voice which emanated from his posterior.

‘Yes, Anaya.’ ‘How come you still remember me?’

‘You know why.’

And there they advanced, on the war-struck land, which had now been at peace due to evacuation. Holding each other’s hands they strided, marching with the same gait, smiling all the way. It was love, not voluptuousness.

‘I love you, Anaya.’

‘Love you too.’

Herein she reduced to what she was- a faint memory. Memory, which he had held captive in his mind all these days, memories which made him forget she was not in this world anymore. Memories, which made her a part of him.

The elements in their hearts formed covalent bonds which could never be separated from each other.
~The Chemistry Between Hearts ‚̧

Love has a perpetual succession- Men may come and men may go but love goes on forever. Love never dies.                              

In the memory of my late grandmother. Love you DADI! You’ll always be alive in my memory. May your soul rest in peace!

Rat Race in The Corporate World


Rat race is an endless, self-defeating and pointless pursuit. It conjures up the futile efforts of a lab rat trying to escape while running around a maze or a wheel. There is no end to it. (SOURCE: Google)

In a day, people spend about 7 hours sleeping, 2 to 3 hours watching TV, doing household chores or enjoying some private time with siblings, spouses or their children, and another 2 to 3 hours relaxing or socialising with friends, maybe. The rest of the time, about 10 to 12 hours, is spent at the workplace.

This implies that about 50% of your life revolves around the place you work. So dragging yourself to work every day, dreading interacting with your colleagues and avoiding your boss will get you nowhere. To quote Confucius, “Do not do unto others what you don’t want others to do unto you.” Change your attitude before you expect others to modify their attitude towards you. This way you can sustain in this rat race.

But looking at this from another point of view, at the bright side, competition breeds progress. Innovative products, remarkable technologies and consumer convenience are just a few examples of how competition improves our lives on a daily basis.
“The trouble with rat race is that even if you win, you’re still a rat,” according to Lily Tomlin.
If you love being a rat, do it.

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