There are two kinds of sins in this world
The first one is to love a man
And the second one is slightly dangerous
The second one lights a torch in the mouth of those who ever says it out loud
The second one binds you in a closet because you’re afraid of homophobia being shoved down your throat
Asking you to eat it up or die of asphyxiation from all hate clawing back to you from the churning sensation in that church going lady’s stomach.
But if you ask me the second one is like a flower
That grows in the feilds with weeds
Without frowning at the weeds
Because they follows acceptance
They see through the sparkle in their eyes that told them just how phobia ruins lives of people who had never even started to live.
The second one counts the ribs to tell God
He forgot to place those bones inside a woman
Hoping that God will reply, I never made a mistake when I made you
Your bones are right where they should be.
You see,
There are two kinds of sins in this world.
The first one is to love a man
And the second one is to be a man who loves a man.


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Women, Men, God, Love

1. Mamma says that when a man walks on a woman’s skin. She’ll burn in pain but nobody will see any burn marks and pain isn’t visible. So nobody will know what she had been through.

2. Some men are healers.

3. God is a man, God is a man, God is a man.
4. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me.

5. The dept of exit wounds are directly proportional to your emotional attachment towards the person who’s making them.

6. I have one in my heart, he loved me. I am not dead.

7. After 16 your heart is mosaic. A mosaic made out of all the men who left you to pieces. But it isn’t art, it isn’t beautiful. All the tiles are of the same color and the cracks are visible. They do not form poetry, they form a floor for a home to be built above them. A home for love, which is dead.

8. Now prejudice have replaced superstitions. I’ve heard a man say that if a woman smells like that of a man then in ten years you’ll see her making out with another woman. Or if a woman behaves manly enough then she hates men in general, and she’s called a feminist.

9. I know all this and a little more and I’m only 21.

Image from Pinterest



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When he comes into your room and
Slam the door and
Ask you to strip
You get up and say
The only the thing
That has been
Running through your head
For a while now.
You say no,
And when his voice
They raise
You gather the voice of your courage
Your self respect
And the word No
Falls out your mouth
Like an asteroid
Creating a crater
On his manliness.
And he demands it again
And he demands that he’s your boyfriend,
Your fiance, your husband
He repeats that you have done it before
And it’s nothing new,
He repeats that you aren’t an angel and
You aren’t pure.
And then you put your hand
In front of you
In front of his face
In the direction of these forced words
And you say No
Because a No means a No
And it will always mean a No
There is nothing more lurking
In between those two letters
There is no monster hiding
Underneath the bed but
There is a monster,
There is one standing in between
You and him
And you sheild yourself with a No
Because you aren’t a slave
And your body is yours
And because a No means a No.



©The Rendezvous Club 2019

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Second name

My mother stayed married

Just so that I can have a second name

But little did she know that

By doing so,

She’s betraying her name and

Sacrificing mine.

Hi guys, I am thinking about doing something new and I’m all excited. So I’ll be posting this short micro poems for a while and I really want to know if you guys like it or not so that i can take the next step with it. You guys have been immensely supporting me and I would like to know your views on this so that I can go crazy and do what’s in my mind😅.

India’s daughter

Every time an India’s daughter is born

Another one of it’s daughter is

Ripped out of her clothes and

Done things which she doesn’t even

Knew was possible,

Because these things shouldn’t be talked about.

Mothers thinks that it is not pious

To talk of these things.

Because mothers are scared of their daughters.

Because mothers asks daughters to shut up,

To not ask questions about these things,

They asks their daughters

To remove their lipstick

To keep quiet, to not react

Because their mothers

Told them exactly the same.

Each time an India’s daughter is born

Bharat Mata exiles one of her son.

Because he robbed her of her name’s Chasity and

One of his sister’s dignity.

”All Indians are my brothers and sisters”.

India apparently have goddesses,

But it’s so vain, because they never leave

Their temples, they’re rock, they died years back,

They never talk, they’re never asked to sit with

Their legs closed or midrifs covered.

India’s daughters weren’t goddesses,

They felt pain, every time they came into her.

Each time an India’s daughter is born

My mother cries, and kneels down to pray,

Asks me not to go out late, not to go out at all

Because India isn’t safe, not even in broad daylight

Because here a mob with a stick can strip a woman naked and

People will only blame her,

Saying that she was the one,

Who walked into the crowd.

India’s sons should know that

India’s mother isn’t happy every time he hails ‘Jai’ to her

Because her daughter’s lays in open pools of blood

With open legs and open screams and everyone is just watching.


Is India.

And I don’t want to be

India’s next daughter.



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Before I was dead

When I die

You’ll find my diary and

Written inside it’s pages

Are words that will make you

Despise me or love me

But either way

I’ll be dead and

I wish you would have

Read, loved or hated me

Before I was dead.

©14/03/19 The Rendezvous Club

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The infinite number of days we’ve spent

Talking about the holes we have in each other

Making up plans to fill those holes,

Coming to a conclusion that,

Whatever darkness we both held

Can’t fill our holes because

Darkness leaves a void. . .

Then you gave me your hole and

I gave you mine and we became whole for a while

I never knew before that

Holes in two chest can be filled

If you just put one above the other,

But it just did, and the holes became whole

Until time came with light and

Two hearts parted, for the best.

That’s when I realized that

No one is whole, everyone is full of holes

And those holes never filled mostly because

Future intervened and the present

Slowly drifted into past!



17/01/19 © The Rendezvous Club

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