Kanthvaani

Ripples in the tranquil lake

In What Remains Heard they died, were never at the helm, Some belonged to me, some belonged to them. We ran in the same direction at once, for once, Tripping over the pieces of bombs and guns. Landed with a thud, trembling hands scrabbled on the floor, Desperate to recognise mine from yours. Some were old, some were new, still blooming in the mud, Faces charred, bodies disfigured, dried of blood. Tightening chest, lump in the throat, gasping for breath through the sobs. Struggling to decipher the ruins of pain and loss. Once known, identities buried under dust and moss. I was jolted awake, no longer lost in the space, I rose to my feet, a sad smile crossing my face. Sure, each story is woven differently along life’s course, But souls? Couldn’t find mine that is different from yours. -Komal Sharma

Dec 4, 2025

Unmoored I just wanted to be loved, to be someone’s priority, Yet I couldn’t feel secure around the one who brought me security. I just wanted to be free of falsehood and trust the truth, Yet I couldn’t see past the lies, couldn’t see past my broken youth. I just wanted to survive by holding onto the anchor of love, Yet my desperation destroyed the hope, the hope that I would ever be enough. I was drowning in the pool of my own darkness and despair, Neither could I save myself, and killed the one who tried to pull me back, tried to care. I am still alive, inhaling the air of grief and the sufferings of yore, I ruined the very thing that I craved, the very thing I longed for. -Komal Sharma

Jul 17, 2025

Self and self I am the killed and the killer, I am the drama of my own thriller. I exist in my reality to live the dream, I muffle the cries, yet louder I scream. I weave the lies to hold the truth in, I set all on fire to burn my own skin. I write the ending to end it once and for all, I step forward only to limp and crawl. I pull the trigger and let the bullet drill, I die first; and I am the last to kill. -Komal Sharma

May 29, 2025

Behind the smile I was smiling through the veil of angst, My feet were stuck, my fists were clenched. I wore a coating of warm and bright, My insides were cold, indulged in fight. I lifted my face, eyes were gleaming, My gut was wrenched, my heart was bleeding. I joked around, chortled at my own pun, My soul was screaming, my mind was numb. I put on a facade for all those years, Hid unbearable pain, blinked back unshed tears. Everything would be fine one day; I thought, But a part of my mind was a blind spot. Stagnant were the buried, or so I believed, Yet ripples arose, for I never truly healed. Am I going to be that child again? I questioned myself. Or Am I ready to be vulnerable and ask for help? Will I survive this storm’s unstoppable cadence? Can I move past my past, just this once? Will I ever look in the mirror and say those words; That I love myself and it no longer hurts? Will the day ever come when I need no mask? Will what lies behind no longer stay in the dark? Will I let my guard down and lower my defense? Will my smile be a smile again and not a pretense? -komal sharma

Apr 3, 2025

The lying reflection Mirror can’t reflect the monster inside, Maybe there is one who is sitting beside. The darkness hides itself in the light, Invisible through the lenses of pride. It deteriorates your sense of perception; a sly. Your eyes face the truth, yet you see the lie. It carves the path for evil, hits the bullseye, But you, my friend, what do you get? A noose around your neck, swinging high. The rope tightens, yet you do not fight. Whispers grow louder, drowning the light. It crawls up your body, spirals around your mind. Your limbs lose the fight, fate intertwine. Darkness reveals itself as a demon unknown. A voice in your head, speaking in his tone, Echoing truths you’ve always known. Your thoughts are now his, so is your soul. You were always a monster, but now you are whole. -komal sharma

Mar 20, 2025

Birth of a Psychopath Sufferings are vital, they say, to enjoy the coming ecstasy, take your steps to unfold the suffering; the lie of fantasy. Draw your sharp-edged sword, be your own army, Cut them a little, make them taste their own blood in this journey. Let their wounds heal yours and your revived injury, give them hope of survival, then turn it into misery. don’t let their pain divagate you, don’t let their cries instigate you, Don’t let them uncover your buried emotions, Hide your true self behind the new ‘you’. Look at their faces once, lift your brows and give them an evil grin, Make them applaud one last time to pull this character from beneath your skin. Your sanity killers played the victim, Tried weaving your fate, Penetrate deeper into their chest, pay their dues, end their curse and nurture your new trait. -komal sharma

Mar 17, 2025