Author Archives: Meenakshi M Singh

About Meenakshi M Singh

Meenakshi M. Singh is a rainbow woman and a true change maker. She is an author of three books “SOULFUL SYMPHONY”, “AAWAZ” and “I AM ENOUGH”- a poetic tribute to the strength of the woman. She is also an entrepreneur, a certified creative writer, theatre actress and an IT professional. Being a Deputy Manager in an IT firm, she got her ultimate promotion in being a mother of twin daughters. She dared to listen to her heart choosing the path of her calling, the world of writing. Despite adversity and difficulty in her way, she strove with perseverance and passion. She has been conferred the Magicka Women's Achiever's Award, Pride of Women Award by Aagaman Group and SashaktNari Parishad - Pride of Nation Award in 2015 for being an inspiration. She is the founder and CHO (Chief Happiness Officer) of “creativeHappiness”, an organization focused on fostering creative expression. Her mission is to elevate society to enable people to lead creative lives, respect creativity and bring society closer to being more true and humane. She says, “I am enough as we all are enough, always”. We all can create happiness.

My poetry is a revolution

My pen isn’t for decoration
My poetry, not a symbol of intellectual sophistication
My pen is a living organism
And my poetry is a revolution

For if it’s not
Then I must shred each paper
Where I spread that supreme
That presence In the inklings
To let the poetry breathe and live
To hug another heart
Or become a home to someone
It’s not me but HIM through me

I am only a vehicle
Of bringing meaning to this business of living
My poetry is not a track to reach somewhere
But it itself, every second of doing it itself is the destination
Where I and HE meet
If it wasn’t
Then what was the need for me to write?

Finding my Guru

Hovering between Known and unknown
Judging what is right and wrong
Whether all is just a Maya
Or a science of facts

Juggling between dreams and real,
Virtual world’s lure or calmness surreal
To tighten which rope, to follow whom

I discover a world of my own
Somewhere in between
Where I am free to ride on a swing
One leap inside, in the arena of ecstasy
Where I float like a cloud
Become One with all that is

And this power of being nothing
Declutters, makes my luggage light
Thrusts me to take a leap with greater push
To reach to a greater height

In this swing, I find a light
In the valley of my own darkness
I become my own Guru
When I become nothing

The Power of Vulnerability

You have a flair for masks,
And the stereotypes
Nerd, Geek, tri athlete
Dude, chic, the hot one
Hopper of pubs, marathons and clubs
Rally, hog, Globe trotter, philosopher
The plethora of labels
Flashing all over

And that chord which pulled me
Towards you
Keeps stretching afar
Under the weight of all these tags
Almost at the edge of tearing,
SO much swag bearing,

Through all these blemishes,
I keep wiping that mirror
Which pulled us together
And showed us each other
Now I keep searching
You, the very you
The ordinary one,
Like me,
With no casts
But pure and true
Clear, at ease, as is

I yearn for that ordinariness
Simple, flowing
That mirror which showed
Your soul to mine

Now unwrap, undress
Show me some flaws
To let me get attracted
Not out of sympathy
But for your power
Power of vulnerability
And if you smile along
Then I love you more
Through you

I write to die

I write to die,

To die after pouring life on the paper,

To let the creation be alive

And float, stay or fly

It’s a process of consumption

Emotion, resurrection, consummation

But I get reborn, anew, lighter

It’s a compulsive murder

Killing of the wrath or exuberant joy

A constant tussle between the heart and the pen

The pen pulling out the words like mining something

It’s a fight and my being looks forward to this struggle

To get churned, and after it flows entirely

I feel dead, neutral as if

That poem never belonged to me

I forget the words

And read it like a narrator reciting someone else’s words

I belong till its birth

And cut off the umbilical just after it

The baby gets raised in other nests

Other hearts

And I enjoy to die

And my epitaph says

And she kept dying happily everafter



How important have our memories become?

Constituiting our beings, everything

The marrow of our self

This sequence of happenings,

Memories define the map

The GPS of our soul,

Memories change us,

From happy to sad,

Move us, take us to travel

All that we had

Are Memories more powerful

than the people themselves?

As if people never mattered

What happened between them?

Was the thing more significant

Than what they are now

Weaving a memory

Defining us and the relationship

Like a hook on the wall

Where we stay hanged there

Unless another memory picks us

Memories are immortal

Erecting walls or bridges between people

Like the lines of our fate

Stamped and imprinted

The Pain Potter

When you ache for something deeply,

you break your being into shreds,

Shreds of loneliness,

The pit, the lane of digress

Drowning in your own tears

Becoming the pain potter

By mulling and sculpting that pain

Caressing the wounds with a light feathered touch

Letting the pain rise

And take the shape of an empty vessel

Then we burn that wounded heart in isolation

To let it get dry and get cold blooded

Then we paint it with our self-made coloured excuses

We let that well pampered pain pot to define us

To become hard and rigid

How we all like to be a pain potter!

When you ache for something deeply,

you break ,just like the earthen pot

Hard, brittle, Hand Made


But there is a reason to this wreckage

To be able to understand that clay

Of which this thing heart is made of

To know its possibilities

Its intricacies, to sculpt again

To smile through the pain

To be a potter of hope