Thank you, you.

Thank you.
For hiding me in your darkness as I sobbed,
As I realised,
That life is short, perhaps even shorter,
And how unfair it feels,
When we promise these forevers,
Thank you.
For that glass of water, I needed it, so much,
And the ice cream bucket, and the blanket,
As I realised,
That this,
Enterprise we walk on is to end, eventually,
In fire.
That we’ll turn but into a million stars hovering over thousands of others who will feel what we feel now,
That they are special, and everything that’s happening to them is unprecedented and unpredictable, and that they’re going to make it,
Spoiler alert.
Thank you.
For holding my burning passions, for keeping me sane with your cold beams,
As I cough over this breath,
Realising, we live as much as we die,
Thank you,
For being my sole companion this night,
I’ll remember you, and miss you, even as the day dawns and light enters my dilapidated self,
I’ll wait, and live, and die,
For you, with you,

My dear, moon.
Thank you,
I’ll see you around. 🌙

//What really good Netflix movies do to your sane selves, for what it’s worth, go watch irreplaceable you, it’s amazing ♥️



I know what you did last night,
I saw you crushing my calm, cheering your chauvinism, I saw them bits of chocolates and broken dreams, bleeding poetry,
All of it,
Thrown into this trash can with your failed relationships and fractured follies, the fault in our sinful stars fragmented, into a multitude of meteors, soaring in circles, much like your monotonous monochrome, dusty dreamcatchers, as you walk around numb to the songs of nestling Nightingales, uninterested in secrets of this universe, just too occupied in blue ticks and faces prettier and beings better than me, wishing to get more,
Unaware or rather, indifferent to my injuries, blind to smudged Kohls and paper cuts on my wrists, sensations to starve the self away, of love, food, compassion, everything, or wait, maybe you are in fact blind, how can I tell,I lost my vision in your brilliant brilliance that binds me to your beasts,
And even as these conversations cycle from dusk to dawn, you stay put, remain apathetic, to my hesitant hopes, irresolute ideas, as I push my prejudices, my pride away, just to please you. why do I do it? how long do you plan to play this game, sorcerer?
but know what, that’s okay, I’ll be okay, have been,pretending to be your victim as I try to sew your self back together, you need not know about this wrecked Havoc my world is right now, or the constituents of my search history, or my conversations with the ceiling fan or things that keep me up at night. I don’t mind you mistaking my silence for tranquility, shouting just to stop you from listening to the sound of my heart shattering into a million pieces and I can help you seek a thousand Splendid Suns even as my Paradise seems a bit lost, can help u soar in Infinitude of this chaotic Cosmos, I can put fire to my delicate dreams and through this fragile fire, my lights shall guide you home, I can help you out of this Labyrinth of sufferings through these books of poetries, words, human hugs, open Windows, ardent affections with this sense of security, be your patronus.
but now as I see you believing in them rumours about my reputation, i see truth fading away giving way to lies, suspicions, unpleasent silences,
And you can throw me too,

in this garbage bin,

with all my goodness, all my ghosts,
You look better now, anyway,
You are healed now,
Do you still need me?

Do you see it too?

Thinking out loud, and along,

With them songs of this night, which is dark and dear, can you hear it too? This piercing voice of the silence that echoes all around,

As I sit on this dusty ground over my terrace, looking up, down, around,



Thinking of them distorting Lego houses, for the sake of buildings, buildings that touch the sky, well, almost, or the last metro of this morrow, with white lights flickering for its final destination,

And this streetlight, radiating in response perhaps to my reveries, or these leaves, not so lonely as them flowers bloom, oh so captivating! They have a visitor now, sometimes even more, this being that has bloomed from a cocoon, who flies every other day, charmed in the beguiled bewitchment of summers,

And as I swing,

Aware of these eyes of nosy neighbours all around, I walk in circles, breathing it in, this wind, savoring in the breath from some other corner of the world, as I breathe, for the sake of breathing, and not just for this process they called respiration,

Them howling dogs, they don’t bark tonight, but roam in a blissful expedition, no more shivering to the mad winter nights of this city,

And my room, it is too tranquil, no more chirping, the birds that lived above the air conditioner have flown away, To unexplored continents, and are soaring perhaps, at this very moment, over the vast blue ocean, shimmering of starry nights, dark and grey, yet infinity iridescent in their own little sphere,

Swaying, watching them shadows of flower pots and leafless branches, rough in their texture, yet smooth in this enrapturing sight I envision right about now, it is beautiful,

This minute moment,

When thoughts of joy and delight enter, them, just them, and I am able to live in this moment,

Which has me transfixed, the tranquility, the simplicity, the relief, this feeling,

Of belonging, of being, a part of this universe
As it notices my little lonely self,

And I look up,

The night is filled tonight, with dozens of stars, visible in these City lights, it’s not a starry night of infinite celestials flickering, but they look beautiful anyway,

I see no shooting stars around, but if I did , I’d wish you to be a witness of the world bestowing upon these wonderful wonders,

Do you have time ?

Can you look away from the televisions and PowerPoint presentations, the everyday endeavors, the walls and the ceiling fans,

Just for one second,

As our heartbeats form an unprecedented symphony, at this very moment, and our selves go against the insurmountable odds, forming this irrevocable eternity,

Can you feel it, the skyline collapsing, these obscure visions of a multitude of feelings, a thousand splendid Suns, millions of ideas and hopes and stars flickering, shades the sky has to offer,

I’m looking at the stars,

Wishing for the wishing star, wishing for you,

Can you see it too?


I missed the sunset today, was it golden or green? I may never know.
I was so busy hushing the monsters inside me that I never realised when they forced me to sleep,
But now, as I woke up to the sound of nothingness echoing in this darkness that doesn’t go away even as I turned the lights on,
I find myself lost.
And this cloudless dark sky I saw from my terrace today, has all these stars, in their infinity and iridescence, yet they don’t flicker, not as much as we do anyway.
And these walls, that wail and reek of this smell of new paint and abandoned hopes, and as I walk around, these blurred visions in my mind kind of complete this puzzle which reminds me just why I never take a leave, from running in circles.
Even as my neon green shoes are tired of running, and so is my bag, tired of them all memoirs in forms of tissue papers and sticky notes and soda cans and chocolate wrappers.
There is this broken emptiness all around,
And I am not even waiting anymore, just thinking,
Where are you?
And even as there is laughter and words just flying around,
I am falling.
How weird is it that I have always imagined home to be a Hogwarts kind of University miles away from this place, or in metro stations and journeys, never caring that whenever I were to reach or to come back, I’d never have a destination, I’d never have a place to go to where my story begin or where it might end, but then, I would. And I wouldn’t either, I shall never know.

And being miles apart, even as I can still feel the voice of your smile, I am not sure, but can you listen to the sound of my sobs, voiceless as they are, and this salty water, that I keep cleaning, hoping to rub off the sadness that comes with it, not realising that that is the other way round.

And the car that honks outside isn’t yours, somebody else’s.

And your dp, isn’t about the times we’ve spent together, it’s with this new girl who’s your friend now, and you are too busy in this new life to even call me about your accidents and anticipations,

Why would you think that I shan’t care?

And I know we all are but travellers, I am not sure if my heart can withstand this, the distance, this demonic distance, and

I can do nothing but run,

Not in circles for a change,

But from my self,

And you,

And this house,

In search of this home,

Which I find in people,

Who are so busy in their own enterprises, that they do not realise when they just leave without goodbye notes and proper hugs,



Me alone to wait.

And wonder,


Where is it?

Knock knock

What shall your sinful spirit do? When triumphant time comes knocking your door, while you are busy in trivial trivialities of Tuesdays and Thursdays, in monotonous Monday mornings, waging a war with Wednesday, wishing, oh! So ardently for the weekend, flabbergasted by them Friday facades, spellbinded in late night drives on Saturdays, senseless in sunday evenings,

Would you be busy?

In dicing vegetables or following television series that nobody cares about, or busy listening to souls, whose wonderful words echo in the noiselessness of nocturnal nights, would you be engrossed in masking your emotions, or would you unveil and present a plethora of confessions, or transfixed in starry nights and golden sunsets, or offended by corrupted chaos of the city you live in, that reeks of this demonic darkness, breaking you apart, all the time.

The inexplicable dejection you get as time goes on, and you have to go on too,

Pack your entire world in two suitcases for the sake of moving,

Leaving school corridors and uniforms for the sake of gaining,

To know more, have more, more and more,


Oh! So hopelessly,

That they shall fill the voids that time leaves as it takes it all away,

Ozymandius obscuring, withering away into worthlessness,

Your body that you love and hate and claim to own, turning into ashes, shall fade away,

And this feeling of love, our mutual connection, will it stay with you?

When I shall be gone,

Would you still remember our magical moments of ephemeral exuberance, when time turns into a hurricane and hits you like a storm?

Tell me, my dear,

What shall you do?

When time takes its toll?

Hammering your hopes,

Defeating you dreams,

Crushing your Canvas,

Inflicting injuries to your infinite insanities,

What shall you do?

When time rings your doorbell, would you blabber or shiver or scream or laugh or cry ?

What would you do, dear?

Would you live in it,

The moment that is here?

Or would you, allow time to torture,

Tell me, hmm?

Would you crush time with your raw emotions, naked nuances and bare soul,

Or would you allow it to crush you,

Into an abyss of nothingness ?

//Written for a competition, 22 February, 2018. Prompt- time.

A Monday morning

Running late again,

I have missed,

The intensity of your thoughts,

The sun as it is rising,

The birds soaring, above, much above to where I could ever reach,

I did not acknowledge

The gust of cool wind against my face,

The drizzle,

The beggars working,

The workers begging,


I am chained

To my own


Caged in a

Monday monotony.


Leaking fountain pens (and eyes),

Broken bits of lead (and heart),

Colorful fancy feathers (and mind),

Empty notebooks (and life),

Crushed balls of paper (and dreams),

A piercing silence,

Silence. Just, silence.

Here my morrow begins,

It is here, where my morrow ends.