Tread Softly


When you look at me and those I paint
I hope that you see a rainbow coloured haze
For though I speak sharp with words so sure
They reflect a mere fraction of what I think I know

When you think of me and those I paint
I hope it’s not a puzzle but a mosaic
Because what I know are parts of a whole
Coloured by mine and growing evermore

When you speak of me and those I paint
I hope an equal lack of judgment is displayed
Those words that seem sharp, sure, and succinct
Are opinions, fickle; the truth has always been extinct

– Akanksha Gupta


The Beautiful Irony of Changing Constants


Like a ship

To the land

Is anchored, and

Like an animal

Of the wild

Is leashed

We are waiting


To be freed

From the constraints


It is the stifling

School of Thought

That has schooled us

Into a way of life

Caged within

A point of view

And we are comfortable

Within its familiarity –

Release us unto

A world unknown

And we’d have no clue

What to do

Or where to

Haul that anchor

And hook it anew

Now it is too late to be unhooked

From the familiarity of being hooked

– Akanksha Gupta (poem only)