Ma Chamunda
I have got a drop of her,
inky black - dissolving in me.
She is the lightning
that splits the dark sky,
entering through
my third eye.
I cease to exist.
There is only she:
Frightening
Terrifying
Loving.
— मा चामुण्डायै नमः —
IS
POETRY AFTER BETRAYAL
Some wounds
need words.
Poems for the nights when betrayal has left you too exhausted to explain your pain—warm soup for the heart, one page at a time.
Read the poems“I am more— Inking Souls
than whom I love
and more
than what I do.”
FROM THE NOTEBOOK
Poems that sit beside you.
Not instructions. Not silver linings.
Just the relief of being understood.
Redrawing the Map
I will have to redraw
the map of my life—
the one I was
holding tight.
He and his lover
snatched it from my hands,
shredded it,
and it settled like dust
all over me.
They laughed at me.
I was the ghost
now all could see.
And then one day,
from somewhere inside me,
someone whispered—
Let it be.
Let it be.
No person
and no work
can be
my whole identity.
I am more
than whom I love
and more
than what I do.
— Inking Souls
IS
I am lucky
I hope you are old enough to know that
I am lucky ‘cause I am old, and I am old ‘cause I am lucky.
IS
WHY I WRITE
I write from inside the storm.
I began writing because silence had become another room I could no longer live in.
These poems hold the shock, rage, exhaustion and strange clarity that follow betrayal. They are for anyone who has felt useful but unseen, surrounded but alone—and is slowly learning that her life is still her own.
Inking Souls
A COLLECTION IN THE MAKING
A small book for the longest nights.
A journey through discovery, fury, grief and the quiet work of returning to yourself. Made to be kept close, underlined, gifted and reopened whenever the heart needs company.
COMING SOONPOETRY · REFLECTION · RECLAMATION
THE INKING SOULS CIRCLE
Come sit with us.
A small, intimate circle for poems, reflections and honest words about betrayal, healing and becoming yourself again.
No noise. No daily emails. Just an occasional letter when there is something worth sharing.
VOICES FROM THE CIRCLE
Words entrusted to us.
Shared with permission.
Held with care.
Who Says I Do Not Work?
Since childhood,
I have kept an art corner—
a sacred space
where I could sit quietly,
through play and study,
through fights and forgiveness,
through love blossoming
and hearts breaking,
through vows whispered
at a wedding altar,
through the miracle
of giving life,
through the silence of solitude,
through the storm of chaos.
My art was always there—
not only in the corner of a room,
but nestled deep
in a corner of my heart,
in the quiet corners
of my home.
A constant companion.
A quiet devotion.
A life’s work—
even when no one saw.
— Nadia Tufail Bhatti
Kaise
Kaise log theek ho jaate hain,
waapas duniya mein kho jaate hain?
Kya kabhi raaton ko
dil se awaaz nahin aati—
ki log,
logon ki achchai ko
kamzori samajh lete hain…
— Inking Souls Community
A thought worth passing on.
“If someone’s husband comes to you crying about his wife’s problems, instead of giving him your shoulder to cry on, give him a counsellor’s number.”
— @likearchana
INKING SOULS RESPONDS“And if a woman comes to a married man with her problems, he should give her a counsellor’s number too.”
— Inking Souls
VOICES FROM THE CIRCLE
Your words can sit here too.
Offer a poem, a short reflection, a recovery story or a question for the circle. Submissions come to us privately and are never published automatically.
Published voices belong to
Inking Souls Community
STAY CLOSE
We are not what broke us.
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