It was just yesterdayThat I wrote a poemto the early spring.Blooming flowers in my gardensoothe my heavy heart,every bud glowing green;Spring is a work of art. The hollow earthbeneath my feetis now as lively as a new born,Sometimes I feel I romanticisespring too muchbut, I am not willing to unlearn. It’s April now.It’s sowing in… Continue reading Beloved spring – Poem
Most foolish act is to break down a minute. Time seems to be the most visible truth, unbiased and irrational or it’s engulfed by the past yearning for tomorrow?For half a second, I’ll let the grief leave and try to look for good, for they say, you find happiness when you look for it. It… Continue reading 30 of 60
My being is hanging out with the thought of being myself at almost all the times and the urge to be anything but me.Thought is an act of violence. The urge to be somethingbut me, is the violence against what I am. The urge to be nowhere but near you. Is it possible for a… Continue reading A City of heartbreaks
Once I met a broken sunset stunning in pink and beautifully alone, He was tip toe-ing through twilight asking me to step into unknown. My inside and out felt like stones but I was willing to know what it has to say, For sometimes the most ordinary things become blessings and I had nothing to… Continue reading Broken Sunset
Those honey coated eyes were the “okay.” to every “okay?” I used to throw, when sheets used to haunt me In search of rhythm, to him I used to go. The one named after my favourite colour In his smile I used to see the rainbow, Every mountain was his own and every stream he… Continue reading Pockets full of Cosmos.
You asked what I have to offer? Well nothing much. Few poetries, painted pots and your sketches on coffee dipped sheets. Weird music, witty remarks and book stores of nearby streets. Few jars of nutella, breakfast dates, And wind chimes on your gates. We both know I’m not going to stay. I promise not to… Continue reading Clichés