I'm Disgruntled -- Poem by Sai Varenya

 I'm disgruntled 

My career dreams disillusioned. 

A girl who dreamt of power, 

A girl who dreamt of serving society, 

A girl who was always curious, 

A girl with a maverick mind

A girl who always smiled, 

A girl who was once very smart, brilliant,

 bright student, admired by her teachers. 

Now, lost her brightness, 

Submerged within a cocoon

Woven by all the wise elders advices. 

She was so true, passionate, optimistic, and ambitious. 

Turns of fate changed everything. 

Now she cries bitterly, 

No one to calm her. 

She is rich in character, 

Rich in knowledge, 

Yet, unable to secure a stable job. 

In the path lead by others, she treads. 

A path she was forced to take

By the pressures of life

And the lack of money. 

To buy a career--

It was against her ethics. 

With empty pockets

Her coaching dream,  too, remained a distant horizon.

-- Sai Varenya

20/07/2026

Time: 6.17--6.53 pm

A poem by Sai Varenya

 He appears like a comet

My bestie, he is-- 

Talks once in a blue moon, 

While my heart waits

For his presence

So patiently... 

He was a nightingale

In days now vanished. 

Now he blooms like Kurinji flower--

Rare, distant, and fleeting. 

Yet, my mind returns to him

Every day, every night, every breath, 

He is absent, yet alive within me

I call him a valuable friend, 

Though his warmth comes Like sunlight through clouds--

Felt for a moment, then gone before I can hold,

-- Sai Varenya

Time:7.30 pm-7. 39 pm

Ode to My Twin Soul-- Sai Varenya

 A compadreship started years ago--

The one I forgot gender. 

I emptied my mind to my twin soul today, 

And I saw my words 

Spill, flood, overflow. 

I sensed a dull ache in my chest, 

And heard a drum beating

Found it's my heart. 

Suffocation in my nose

When oxygen was plenty

I don't know why

I felt very strange

Not normal for me

Though normal, my friend calls it.

-- Sai Varenya

18/04/2026

Time: 2.21 pm

Again and Again the Masks Fall (My Impromptu Ephemera)

 Whensoever Aughtime reverance and homage quivers to Chiaroscuro Eidolon I... 

Whensoever I behold any persona Seraphic...

Whensoever wayfarer adored me

Whensoever my heart whispers, they are good and true, a gentle light my soul can trust, 

Whensoever my heart and mind bow in unconscious reverence... 

In a fleeting span of days Or months, the illusion melts away.

Reality breaks upon me like an unbidden light... 

The illusion crumbles with lightning's speed

And yet, again and again,  it returns...

Certain masks slip and scatter in sudden silence--

Yet only a few are unveiled before the world.

Everyone I met whom I adored and held in deep reverance--

Those untrue were, and still are, unveiled by fate.

Composed by Sai Varenya

Date: 21/08/2025

Time:7. 24 pm --7.59 pm

Heartbroken Teacher --A poem by Sai Varenya

 Heartbroken Teacher

(A poem composed by Sai Varenya during a fleeting emotion. ) 

I'm a heartbroken teacher,

Worn by waves of silent pain.

I can’t endure the weight of emotion—

My aura suffocates

In the presence of pretense.

I hate what teaching has become—

Its true value drowned,

Engulfed by false praise,

Fakeness, and actors

Who wear borrowed passion like a mask.

Composed on 06/08/2025 

Time: 10.31 am

Teach--"Err" -- A poem by Sai Varenya

 Teach "Err"

--Sai Varenya

Err is wisdom

Fabrication is intellect

Truth lost it's hue

Corruption stains the eduworld.

Composed on: 04/08/2025

Time: 5.22 pm

The Vision -- Poem by Sai Varenya

 The Vision

by Sai Varenya

(Based on real vision I had today few minutes back --28/07/2025 Wrote: 2.32 pm. I had the vision in between 2.15 pm -2. 25 pm) 

When Ugram Veeryam Mahavishnum

 Jyalantham Sarvatomukham

resounded from Amma’s phone,

a cold shiver rose—

through my chest,

and along the back of my spine.

Brunch paused mid-bite—

for I was no longer just sitting.

I felt myself

wrapped in red silk,

a sacred madisari—ancient,

draped low near the legs,

comfortable like a Punjabi dhoti.

No pallu flowed,

only pleats wrapped with ritual grace.

I climbed the steps,

still in that vision—

not with closed eyes,

but in open-seeing stillness.

A big golden belt clasped my waist,

subtle yet divine.

The saree’s lower folds hugged my legs—

pleated in madisari style,

pure red pattu,

with golden kasavu glinting faintly

around the hem near my feet.

No pallu in sight.

I saw myself—

a young, youthful girl of my own age,

precise, divine-like.

I saw my feet—

adorned in Paduka-style golden slippers,

anklets resting in silence.

My skin was luminous,

pale like conch-shell glow.

The same unwaxed hand—mine—

yet held in a timeless frame.

I saw the hair—

wavy, long, unbound,

cascading like river-darkness,

flowing to my waist.

No face revealed—

only presence.

Around the neck:

a choker—

square red stone,

surrounded by white ones,

like a temple star-garland.

I also saw a small golden crown

above my temple head—

not covering the entire head—

just for a second.

Was it a dream?

A vision?

A flicker from some past birth?

No illusion lingers that long.

No daydream chills your spine.

It was not fantasy—

it was remembrance.