By S. K
Fri, 02, 21

Excerpted from ‘The mysterious visitor’ by Vasily Andreyevich Zhukovsky...

Obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD)

By Tehzeeb Sialvi

All my life,

I have been driven by obsessions,

Reigned and ruled over,

By compulsions.

There is a voice in my head.

Constantly compelling me to do,

And repeat things over.

It is like a living hell.

Having no liberty,

To free myself,

From intrusive thoughts.

Even the slightest bit of disorder,

Agitates me to the core.

Each and every thing,

Must be symmetrical;

Aligned at an angle.

The invisible dirt,

On my hands,

Does not go at any cost,

I already washed them;


And I am still compelled,

To continue.

I assure myself,

That I locked the door,

But the obsession isn’t satisfied.

Compulsion arises to go and check,

Not once, but over and over.

Until I am frustrated.

But I can’t help it.


It’s not me;

It’s the voice inside,

That is,

Intruding my sane mind.

Poems forever

Spirit, lovely guest, who are you?

Whence have you flown down to us?

Taciturn and without a sound

Why have you abandoned us?

Where are you? Where is your dwelling?

What are you, where did you go?

Why did you appear,

Heavenly, upon the Earth?

Excerpted from ‘The mysterious visitor’ by Vasily Andreyevich Zhukovsky, the foremost Russian poet of the 1810s and a leading figure in Russian literature in the first half of the 19th century.


By Ali Asghar Ghani

Like a garden

chaotic, dark mind


red roses

of words



By Nazish Sabir

The surge in expectations

With days passing by

Loping aside the hope

We might be welcoming

Something dark lingering around our present and levelling to the future

As we desperately want it to arrive

Compiled by SK