World Poetry Day

Can you imagine a world without poetry? At Mapmygenome, we see poetry everywhere – in that micro quantity of freshly extracted DNA, in the permutations and combinations of the genetic code, in the praise from a happy customer, in tea-breaks, and in hope and laughter. On World Poetry Day, some of our team members took up the Poetry Challenge and wrote beautiful words that touched the heart.


Anu Acharya Poem

Amorphous Alleles?

There was once a gene,

With oh! So many alleles

If you looked at one,

You hoped to run,

Unlike the other one,

Who seemed to have fun?


It was just another day,

I met them both on the way,

They came to a locus,

And fought till they went out of focus,

Where the dominant one won,

In the heterozygous race that had begun,

Yet the recessive one smiled,

Its phenotype was being filed,

For the future to come.


The future it came,

Where the wild one was tame,

And the mutant was the one,

That changed the game.

–Anu Acharya

Pooja's Poem

An Ode To My Patients

It’s a journey much untold

So many paths to behold

Where to start, how to navigate?

Or should we just leave all to fate?


Of fate and faith, and other mysteries

Is a tale that starts with medical and family history

It isn’t about atheism or defiance

It’s having hope in the time of science


It’s scary to walk untrodden roads

Discovery and it’s unknown abode

Our patient’s stories speak of those who care

To sing the truth because they dare


And when we sing our parts in choir

We hit those notes even higher

Cause there is but just one way to be-

DNA is you, DNA is me

–Pooja Ramchandran

Nazia's poem


Kehte hain log umeed par duniya khayam hai

Ye ek aas hai ya haqeeqat har shaks isse laailm hai


Isi umeed ko lekar guzar jaati hai zindagi

Ab haasil kisko kya hua, ye apni kismat ki baat hai..

–Nazia Sultana

We are all said to be living with a belief in hope
Is it a mere expectation or a fact, we never know
This hope, we take with us all the life along
What we finally achieve is eventually what was written so..

Rasika Poem



When I fear falling sick,

I will practise my push up, lunge and kick.


When I fear his fight,

I will think of every true hug, my heart so light.


When I fear starting all over,

I will see them smile, saying “You’re getting closer.”


When I fear losing her,

I will learn to keep her love with me, forever.


When I fear I won’t remember,

I will start teaching them, every chapter.


When I fear I will break,

Many slow breaths I will take.


When I fear I may lose faith,

I will repeat my prayer the 6th time, 7th or 8th.


When I fear losing my mind,

I will recall good times, with people so kind.

–Rasika Raman

Geetika's PoemPlight?

Tick tock, tick tock, she walks home at eight

Condescending eyes boring into her, “’tis far too late!

“For ravishing, disobedient women must be taught a lesson,

“Doesn’t matter what she wears, all hail x-ray vision”


Their shadows creep upon her and the leering gets stronger

She pulls her hand bag closer, she can’t wait any longer,

And breaks into a sprint, she dives into the gate

Of the guarded society she lives in. She made it, in a panic-striken state.


Hah! That ‘guard’ who silently watched the whole scene

Couldn’t meet her eyes, but sure noticed her jeans

She survived. So lucky! Perhaps it was just a false alarm?

You know how women get, always thinking men want to cause them harm.


“But we didn’t want to hurt her” said one of those leering men

A wink and a chuckle later, “she just needed to be taught a quick lesson”

At home she breathed a sigh of relief, but her mind was clouded with murk

“Is this how it’s going to be, every night walking home from work?”

–Geetika Datta

Neeraja's Poem

I am me

Like fire, passion burns my soul.

Calmness rushes over me;

The resilient waves of the ocean,

Mindful, accepting as space,

I am infinite possibilities of the sky.

Nurturing and caring, I am grounded.

I am nothing more or nothing less;

I am just enough- I am me.

–Neeraja Reddy

Cherukuri Sireesha

Guess…Who’s He?

The wall clock struck 12:00. The whole city

Was lapsing in the lap of night queen

I was still awake digesting my subjects

I was pulled to the balcony when I heard

Some one laughing and cuddled by heavy wind

I found no one there and turned to my room

At that moment I saw a man,

With half of his face covered, and having a dark spot

He is young, handsome and charming

And he started chasing me with a curving smile

I ran to my room when there was no reply

After me yelling ‘who’s that’?

Even then he was peeping through window

I closed my eyes tightly & soon fell asleep

Early morning with too much zeal I went to balcony to see him.

He was far away from me, descending

I was scuffled thinking who might be the person

Who scared me last night. With the Sun strokes

hitting my face I realized he was none other

than the king of nights ‘The Moon’.

–Cherukuri Shireesha


Markson shared an awesome poem written by Mrs. Markson. We loved it so much that we shared it here.

Zainab's Poem


We change every moment of every day,

this is what we learn as adults.

That no matter what,

Only change is constant in our lives.

–Zainab Abbas


Geethanjali's Poem

He Called Me


He called me Shraddha, promised forever.

How was I to know that he would fall for another?

In heartbreak I languish,

Passing on to my daughters, sorrow and anguish.


He called me Sita, his one true wife.

His one gift, a comfort-free life.

A willing sacrifice to the altar of royal duty,

A victim of patriarchal immaturity.


He called me Krisna, the perfect conquest of the best archer.

Watched me become a pawn in a wager.

The man I loved shared me with his brothers,

Seeking solace in the arms of others.


He called me Mother, to discard me in my winter.

He called me Daughter, to stifle my laughter.

He called me Sister, to burn me in the name of honour.

He called me Wife, to nurture not love but terror.


He continues to call me by a powerful name,

Even as he glories in my shame.

–Geethanjali Tanikella

Udbhav's Poem

What about you?

Roses are red,

Violets are blue

I suck at poetry,

What about you?

–Udbhav Relan



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