The blue of the sky drip into my eyes
Slashing through my whole
It goes down inside and lies
I try to vocalise
But bicker and dispute dies in my throat; my motions and expressions find an overcoat
It’s exhausting me
Little drops of sweat break behind my neck
and meander down my body 
I feel it
I turn blue with the fear of time cascading on my back without my consent
like a snake that lurks up from within and chills your spine.
There is a battlefield inside, with prisons at the sides
and you know,
that the only victors in wars 
the dead.
The blue turns to crimson and burns in my gut
and I,
I would still be brave because my words are safe inside that thick coat.
But it grows wild and catches the hems of the coat
and by the time it sears down a hole inside me, 
the wary of flames turns that coat into ashes,
it rises
from the dead remains of my gulped hidden words.
It grips my throat, wet with perspiration,
I scratch at its hands, throwing futile kicks
But the air inside is dry now
my neck sore and no blue in the sky
Black. Pitch. Apodictic. Dark.


About You.

The way her eyes shimmered when she formed words out of her mouth
It was all about those words she spoke,
The way she glared, focused, gaped, observed,
The way she almost let me in on her verve.

It was about the the silent moments
the bizarre fantasies she had
And how she sighed while dreaming them
It was all about
Her air
Be it panting, wheezing, puffing, or even a whisper
Even that little draw of breath she took before she called out my name

I still think about her from time to time
With a mixture of regret and nostalgia
And my heart throbs with thrills
When it calms down, I still feel like I am going 100 miles per second.
I, sometimes, yearn
And when I dream,
I dream of you
When I think
I think of you
Because it’s you
And it has always been all about you.

Seeds of Desire

I breathe, because you allowed

I exist, because you created me

I survived, because you helped

I obeyed, because you made me

I ate what you cooked

I wore what you gave

I never questioned you

While you dug me desire’s grave

I listened, because you yelled

I put my consciousness to sleep

I did what you told me to

Even lost the will to weep

I grew tall and wise

You still gave me your advise

Little plants of wishes grew

Watered with the teary dew

You sensed them growing

Oh! I pity those beings

Chopped off bloodily right after your seeing

Roots still firm,

The cutting hurt me this time

A little only, but my consciousness

I knew it was mine

It grew back again

And you cut it just the same

It hurt a little again

But you certainly enjoyed this game.

No roots were harmed

You couldn’t take them out

I wanted to see what they look like

When they grow up, hindrances without

You gave it a try again

But they grew long and strong

And now there you lay still

Relieved of all my wrongs

Now you were free

So was I

Free to my will

I lay barehanded looking upto the sky

The tree of my wishes

Grew big, with fruits in directions four

Beneath the tree, outstretched you sleep

You cannot cut anything anymore.

The One.

I am the kind of person who’ll be there with youeven after a fight that ended catastrophically,

because you say you need me

And I’ll hold onto you

I’ll hold onto to your words that you uttered when you promised me that you will always be that wall,

Standing tall,

Promised me to hold me when I fall,

I’ll hold onto it because you told me once that sometimes you unconsciously drift apart because of reasons that you yourself fail to understand 

But this isn’t drifting apart

This is falling apart

Our love,

Our friendship is falling apart

The bridge that connects us is falling apart

All the love that I try to send goes down that broken bridge, 

Down that dark empty pit,

And is never found

Because you think you have found the one

Let me tell you, 

You haven’t 

It is just another one of those thousand guys,

But you think he is the one,

Because you hadn’t had anyone for a while

And the first guy that comes along,

Gives you relief,

Like he is the rain in the desert of your thoughts.

But he is not.

I can see it.

I tried to protect you.

I have kept you with so much delicacy,

But you want to go down that lane where you can feel his kiss against your lips

But at the end of it,

He is going to break your heart.

But you still want to live it.

And now,

I’d let you.

I cannot be your shield when you want to take the bullet deliberately 

And it is of no use

I am exhausted now

I am tired

I’d let you do whatever you want

I’ll just sit here, take long breaths,

And then I’ll try to remember where I went wrong

And when could have been the right time 

When could I have stopped you

Maybe a little early

Or a lot

But I’d be too tired to even think of it 

I’d just lay down

And wait for my zeal to come back

So that I can get up and run

Fast and wild

Till my lungs hurt

Towards something,

Some place which may give me solace

Some dark cottage,

Or a bright, airy surrounding with waters that run deep

I’d swim and go on to the other side

Water dripping out of my hair

Clothes wet, feet bare

Would that be what devastation feels like

Oh no! 

I’d be clean

It’d be just some dives into deep and hike

And by the time you’d try to tell me that you miss me,

I’ll be long gone

You may try to scream

But I won’t hear you

Some water would have gone in my ears

And now I’d just hear stillness,


I’d like it.

And you,

You’d lose me,

You’d be alone,

Because then,

Everyone would know that

He is not the one.

If Only.

If only the walls could talk

You would know how I drew on it

How I was proud like DaVinci scribbling with those crayons

How I threw things at it when I got angry

How I tugged at the calendar hung to it counting days for my birthday

How I sang terribly as the sunlight flickered on it, the wind made the curtains dance, gently caressing it

How I spilled from chocolate milks to coffees to wines and almost everything over itbecause I have always been clumsy

How I hit it unconsciously sometimes

How it always stood there and watched

How I leaned over it talking over the phone

How it listened to our conversations and to you, bring chaos in my almost-ordered world

How I banged my head against it when I was laughing too hard over something that you said

How I fell when you left

How I dragged myself against the wall to stand up again.

If only the walls could talk,

It would tell you about all,

From my running to my first walk,

It would scream about my falls.

If only the walls could talk,

It would tell you how I’ve grown,

If only the walls could talk,

I would never feel alone.

If only the walls could talk.

If only the walls could talk.

Magic ✨

Magic; I seek a potion that’d shine

Quench my thirst; earth-shattering desires of mine

Something glossy or an old bark of tree

The elder wand that would set demons free

Wand will bend its will to my command

Be held close to my heart, satisfying my demands

Take everything out that’s buried down

All be mine, fruitful found

Make housewives all the house forsake

Leave chores to men, to brew and bake

Spells will say whatever need be said

Even time will stand upon its head

No black, white, race but insides red

Inconsiderates’ wit must be dead

Frost, Jonson, I’ll be there in time

Feeling emotions at every rhyme

Different lives, different cities, different names

Different likes, different people, but my games

My phone’s battery would never be low

The feelings high, the music slow

Every corner’s cuisine bless my taste

Ceasing the hour, no running, no haste

Political parties must all be demolished 

Royalties, democrats, get no more polish

Not very sure if I’d make things right

But Trump surely would be gone out of sight

Out of sight, put in a Mexico flight

Elder wand utilized to all its might

Then I will wake up from my dream

Ecstatic after that consciousness stream

Only to discover it was all in my head

Smiling to myself, dropping back into bed.


Once there was this drizzle,
Slow but continuous,
Settling upon the trees,
Waking them up, making a fuss.

The fields were the length of eternities,
Woods maze-like, so dense
Over all the echoes of the gaze
I felt the sensation of your recurring sense.

Roamed the path, silent and still
I seek your gaze, your touch
How distant you were, yet how close I was
Still doted on you as much.

I see you in the forest,
In a doorway, on a train platform
And by the time I can steal a second glance
Out of reverie, I find you are gone.

You left; without ever really knowing me,
Now you’ll never get to know me well,
But you’ll remember my big, dark eyes,
Still not knowing what they tell.

You’ll remember my reproachful silence,
Still not knowing what they said,
You’ll remember the moans of anxiety I took,
When you were by my side in the bed.

You’ll remember the nightmares you couldn’t save me from
You’ll remember all of this even when you’re gone
You’ll remember everything just fine
The name you’ll remember would always be mine.

And you know, sometimes, I’ll see you
Over the fence in my lawn
With sun gaping over you
In a blink, you would be gone.

Sometimes, I’ll see you in light, also in darkness
At others, I won’t; it’s vain
But I’d think of you; every time
Every single time, it will rain.

Ruins Of A Masterpiece.

This is how it goes,

You’re in front of me and everything looks perfect. I want to capture this moment. 
I take too much time with that paint brush. 
Carefully choosing the colours, all of my favourite ones. 

Dipping the brush into yellow, and gliding the warmth across the canvas.

Saturating into red, I let it slither over the vacant background. Filling it with love, slipping over the warm yellow, too. 

The brush is drenched again and again.

Too much time and patience is spent painting this perfect picture. 

I step back and take a look at it.

Such a pretty picture is created, with all the radiant shades. 

Glowing with the yellows of sun and warmth, ripened apples with love, tinted a little with the blues of your clouds, dreams and moods.

I am puffed up with pride, feeling like Picasso.

Suddenly, you come forward, and plunge it underwater.

The paint rises, it is dilapidated. 

Everything falls apart. 

Are you kidding me? It is no longer perfect.

And, I realize it had never been.

Who am I fooling? I was never an artist, anyway.

Subsequently, you go out of the door as I crumble, looking numbly at the ravages.

I guess, somewhere deep in my empty chest, I always knew that the memories will fade and the paint will peel.

Still, I tried my hand at it.

That was a glorifying masterpiece.

Yes. It was. Exemplary.

While now this is just one of the many empty sheets of paper, with no potential and desire to be filled.

I look down at my hands, they are no longer covered with the colours that you were. 

No longer stained with the blotches of that impeccable wonder.

But, you. You’ll forever be a mess of yellows, reds and blues,

smeared across the blank wall of my mind.

And maybe, 

It is meant to be like this only.

Your Blaze

Into thousands of undying landscapes
Walked, rubbing my wet, cold hands
Looking for a prehensile
Found you kindling a fire of my demands.

Drawn towards you radiating the light
I found my stomach in knots
With opulence of heat, soon I fell asleep
Comatose with your thoughts.

In darkness, apodictic darkness
I heard this tread or fall of the feet
With dried leaves, snapping and crushing
My body burned with heat.

The blood curdling red door of the mind
Opened and plopped the anger
Seeking for something silver
When I was the pure amber.

Now, I’m thinking of being cold again
The fire that brought us close
And dissipating our anxieties
Even in warmth, the moment froze.

Hundred things I try to run away from
Those feelings wasted, time spent in warmth
Cause they push me to the dark corners of my mind
Ever since that fire has been extinguished by storm.

That winter tempest you left me in
Where once a little snowman we had built
It wasn’t even my fault that it melted
Still, you convicted me of guilt.

Now I’m stuck in a dark room
And it is always snowing outside
You’re not here to find me the way home, 
But this time, I won’t swallow my pride.

Now I’m trying to cut you off
But your memories are entangled like vines
And carving you out of the echoes
Will be like erasing mine.

The Help.

Prowled round the edge of the gorse layer
Wild pear trees, thick winter air
Old leaves dead around my feet
Picked up a Fitzgerald book, took my seat.

The words started to grow on me inchmeal
Desired if it could all be real.
Not mere books, but sustained the life in me
Legitimized the freedom to become what in actuality I couldn’t be.

Late in the damp December afternoon
Cold mists creeping, and darkness waiting to sink in from above
With the adventures I could never have and people I couldn’t be,
I fell in love.

There was a bit of yellowness where the sun was fading away
Wondered how my wounded soul started to sway.
I was a reader that I realized,
With a book in its verisimilitude , the whole world paralyzed.

Same books, old faces, but new was my pain
How I breathed words, as the ground soused with rain.
In that cold, I tried to stay warm while glacial blood flowed through me
Reconsidering vehemently what I wanted to be.

I didn’t know what I wanted to do
Aslan’s Narnian visit maybe, but Harry’s spells were few.
Wasting days frozen in my bed
Obsessing with what’s going on in my head.

Over the internet, that blog, I see a light
Frosty morning, air still, sun was bright
Unfettered with concern, I didn’t know who
Him? Her? The silhouette ? Or was it you?

Reading about his experiences and life
Tore me open, left me red, raw and rife.
Reminded me of everything ever happened to me
Found a purpose, finally at peace, someway it be.

Never did we converse, but we definitely talked
Realization held me together, pessimism, suspicions blocked
Deep awe of words, touched hidden places inside of me
Not a writer, but the writing itself begot me.