Politicking with people

“But they are a good person.”

What a stupid argument to continue being indecisive about someone.

Everybody can afford basic decency despite their bullshit political leanings. I don’t feel guilty in calling out people’s bad politics, and I am not saying they’re doomed for hell either. But after a point, I find right leaning politics impossible to converse with sincerely.

I don’t think

“But they are from our political leaning/this identity.”

However, the opposite is also true: You may be horrible, unempathetic and intolerable despite your explicit “woke” politics. That’s boring too. I feel disenchanted by the harshness or a politics that is focussed on centering suffering as a tool.

I am sure I will soon meet a Commie too who will be disappointingly human. But let us postpone that till I have read all the books. 🙂


tame shewolf.

PS: Brain is a fog. all I can muster today.

To just do it!

In doing, there is discovery.

What does it take to write one good paragraph a day?

I could contemplate about all the topics I want to write about. I could worry about having nothing new to say. Perhaps if I just say what has already been said, I will discover something about it that needed to be said differently. I may understand my need to restate it again. Maybe, somebody understands the same idea better because I said it in the way it connects to them. So, I do not need to stop myself because it has already been said. I don’t need to worry about saying it perfectly. I don’t have to do justice to what has been said. Well, it has been said.

I need to work my way through words with words to reach the words. To do is to anchor your thoughts. To choose a thought and to pursue it. Will I be able to recreate my abstraction perfectly? Maybe not. I will lose so much of the abstraction because I want the writing to make sense. But I can go at it again, and again. Every idea will be different from what I intended to capture.

In doing, there is discovery.

I started writing because I had fun with it. Not to create a certain number of blog-posts; not to create a self-image that I can’t break away from; not to create milestones; not to do this alone in an island of my own greatness/stupidity. I came here to play.

Going back to playing and being playful,


I will never forget you, my friend

This poem was in reply to a casually melodramatic SMS
by Malathi, another moody blogger.
The SMS read: “Milady, you are not allowed to forget moi.”
Yes, I was bored. And she was happy. 😀


Je ne t’oublierai jamais, mon amie

In this small world

Filled with meaningless conversations,

I find solace in the knowledge that you exist, and you think.

You think

Of your life, of the world,

Of peace, of war

And miraculously, of me too! 🙂

In gratitude,

Je ne t’oublierai jamais, mon amie!

Yes, sometimes I hate my write-ups.

Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness.  One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.”

 ~George Orwell, “Why I Write,” 1947  

Why? Why should good writing come from conflict? Why?? Aaaaaargh! I can’t stand it.

(Breathe out!)

What happened was… I had promised a friend (pyar se nicknamed Rishi :P) a poem especially for him on his last birthday. When I sat down to write it, I was left staring at the computer screen and then conveniently drifted away to lip-syncing songs (that in the first place were supposed to inspire me).
Point being: I had nothing to say.
How do I romanticize about a friendship that is smooth-sailing and unromantically without conflicts?
I promised him “Next time for sure” with puppy eyes and also with the hope that we may fight and create some necessary drama for inspiration.
Yes, my boring life offered me nothing, save gossip that strengthened the friendship. (Yes, look down upon us! :/)

(Blurting out the following confession faster now!)
And and and, I’ve written poems for sillier people who don’t even care and might’ve not even read what I’ve written for them and even if they did, didn’t realize it was for them. Aaaaaargh!

(Breathe out!)

And he is going to hate me for being such a “moody artist” but after all this; he might just as well call me a ‘bitch’.

Yes, this post comes following even more sickly giddy-headed poems I posted. That’s why I distance myself from my poems. I sometimes can’t believe I write such insane crap. Where is this coming from??? Aaaaaargh!

So this post basically disowns the three poems I have posted before this.
Why did I post them? Because I hate to see my Blog Stats so low.
And this insignificant rant is the 70Th post, babe-eh!!
Also, I’ll go on to add that those are old poems written months back when I was even more immature than I am now. Hard to believe, na?

Signing off,

With a promise to write more happy crap,

Tame SheWolf


“Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia.”

~E.L. Doctorow

Waist-deep in love


I know you too well

To know that you will never change

Us together, we look strange

But I like being part of your dreams

Of your world of contradictions

I know our story is not fiction



I am in love with you. I shouldn’t be

You seem wrong for me


And here I stand waist-deep in love


Should I jump in?

Your waves keep crashing over me

Drawing me deeper in

But I am resistin’ (it)

I remain standing waist-deep in love



You know me too well

To know that I will be there

And I like that you care

But you frustrate me with your insecurities

Sometimes, I need you to trust

You know there’s more to my love than lust


Same Bridge n Chorus


There’s a storm in my heart

And it’s tearing me apart

I don’t know what I should do

What I know is it’s not fair to you

To have me holding onto you like a crutch

Honestly, I never knew I could feel this much

Oh, I am in love with you

I am in love with you


Same Bridge n Chorus

Last line:

Then I see you waiting, I see your smile,

Without another thought,

Without wasting any more time,

I let go and drown.

My last confession

Written on request. For my friend’s “Metal band”  😛


Drowned in love

I gasp for air

While your affection drags me down

(Deeper in, Deeper in)

I sink deeper with each hug



I’d die for you babe, but not this way


This will be my last confession

Your love felt like a curse

Your absence a relief

No goodbyes for you

Well, only good riddance!


Suffocated in love

I gasp for air

While your affection gags my mouth

(Dry as the desert wind, Dry as the desert wind)

My throat goes dry with each kiss

Bridge N Chorus: Same



And there have been moments when I could take no more

I’ve screamed enough

Must end this parasitic existence

Must end love’s pretences

It’s now time to leave before it goes horribly wrong

No more singing of hurting love songs

Only Bridge. No chorus.

Last slow line:

Looking back,

I know why I was so tempted

I know why I stayed

‘Coz I’ve never felt so alive

And so dead..

(Say the word ‘dead’ in a dead tone. Just end it on that note. No beats follow)

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Rogue Lover

Written on request. For my friend’s “Metal band”  😛


He loved her

She loved him

The perfect couple in the eyes of the world

Look closer, peer in

Past the façade and past the curtains

And you’ll find them screaming


Listen up, folks

A story remains untold

Of lovers who are foes

Of love gone rogue

They promise each other love for eternity

With murder on their minds

Love gone rogue

Here’s a love gone rogue


And oh-they’re-so-in-love,

They keep up the deception

While they connive behind each others back.

The temptations and imperfections

They know each other too well

All included for an advantage in the final execution



And the fated day arrives,

Wasting no minute, without a cue

He gropes her and strangles her

And she digs her nail into his skin as she struggles

Damn that bitch!

But the deed is done. He has won. She is forgiven

Oh, that angel!

She has set the table with his favourite wine

In celebration, he must drink

Soon he chokes only to realize he has been poisoned

Ha, the joke!



Sing repeatedly:

Love gone rogue

Here’s a love gone rogue


End line: (Say it, don’t sing it)

Dig two graves when in the path of love (laugh sarcastically)

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Morbid Musings

Written on request. For my friend’s “Metal band”


The appeal of death draws me in

During miserable times

Drives me to my morbid musings

Deaf alive by inconsolable cries

My head lies on the soft pillow

Of my desires

(Of your nightmares)


Fuck your ideas of a numb departure

You leave silently with your ghost


Go! Leave for hell gift-wrapped in your coffin

Neatly tucked

While I lie with a mocking smile

In my blood-filled bathtub



How would I want the exit to be −

Punctured by bullet or scarred by knife?

And I choose the drama of voluntary stabs

My blood creates patterns in the water

I watch with amusement

As I carve deeper into my flesh




Unfucked sluts imitating love

Tell me, how do you cope with your misery?

You scream for attention while you live

You leave without anyone noticing

Tell me again, how you survive

Without this dream of the great escape?


The pain will remind me how alive

I was… just before it all ends tonight

CHORUS: (same)


Written on request. For my friend’s “Metal band”


First Verse:

And I cannot die a common man,

Though I live like one.

The last moment of my life will have purpose,

Though I’ve passed days where I’ve had none.


An overwhelming pain that never touched my life

Will bring me death one night

In the darkness as my body lays quiet

The world will go deaf in a riot


Fire will pour from inside of me

(Blades of metal and stinging smoke will make the truth harder to see)

While in the wet mud my blood seeps,

I’d have avenged my life hearing the terror in your screams

Second Verse:

My death will be a thunder deafening

Though I live silenced

The banishment to hell doesn’t scare me

‘Cause my life feels like a prison sentence

Bridge: Same

Chorus: Same

Third Verse:

You bastards deserve this…

This state you’ve brought yourself into

With all your fucking holiness intact

I’m the destroyer who created the foundation in the ruins of you

You will not know who to fear

No clue, no mask, no tear

Remember me- I am the anonymous among you

The anonymous you are blind to

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