Writings For My Daughters: The Book

It’s Here!

I did it! 🤓

I wrote a book of poems for my daughters. 💖✨

If you have been connected with me here for a while, you already know my first love is books, and I’ve wanted to be a writer for most of my life. 

It feels so good to finally share this huge achievement with you all and to call myself a published author 🙏🏽

The book is now available to order and has been published by @bookleafpublishing 🙌🏼

This little book is really special. It comes directly from my heart which is actually quite big and full of love for so many remarkable women in my life 💖✨

The poems are … well I’ll let you read them yourself and decide! I can’t wait for your reactions (I’m also terrified but being brave is being vulnerable!) 

I want to say a huge thank you to my friends and family, for supporting my dream, especially over the last year, and the team at BookLeaf Publishing for providing me with such an amazing platform that opened so many doors. Shout out to my publishing consultant, Divya 🤎

Thank you also to each and every one of you who like, comment and share my work here on this platform! 

Order your copy today, links below🌷: 

Paperback version on Amazon at:

Barnes and Noble at :

E book version on the bookleaf bookStore at: 


Beautiful Fear

July 11, 2018

Another writer from my workshop group told me she hated public speaking but promised her husband she would face her fear. She said, “you have to do it, Taneet!” And so we both wrote our names on the list.

Photo courtesy of Humber College (Lakeshore Campus)

So here I was, hair clinging to my forehead and neck with perspiration, heart pounding, pulse racing, hands shaking. I read a poem I had written at 3am several years prior.

And the words danced out of my mouth delicately, pirouetting en detours, completing a grand jeté before the timer rang. I kept my head down as I absorbed the applause, into my pores, into my veins, shocked that I shared dark words from my heart with award winning/critically acclaimed authors, my living inspirations.

Regardless of how shit scared I was, my words had a voice of their own that did not falter or tremble the way my fingers did. They were not just destined to be spoken. They were determined.