Is it my fault or is it the world’s? For what was supposed to be the cure Has always been a curse. Tell me that the curse would one day be dead, Tell me I wouldn’t be reminded of a love That exists only in my head. Nirjara, a young and keen poet from Pune, recognised her passion for poetry earlier in the childhood days, by finding it fun to weave into verses those little moments which were not so little. This book encapsulates the chaos of her teenage years all the thorns and roses turned into art.