Dictionary

Life is a dictionary of things.Most come and go.Some make us homeothers are at a distance,But none of them are lost.Like tears, they remain,always a part of us.With a few bold decisionsthey say“You can take anything you want.”But, what about the things thatdonā€™t belong to us?Is it ethical to run and cryfor things?Or do weContinue reading “Dictionary”

A City of heartbreaks

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 aContinue reading “A City of heartbreaks”

Things that matter.

A poem, you ask? I sit here and think, wondering whatwe are, when doors are shutTight and hard. Alright, I will come with you for the trippy fight;also, came with my freshly chewed skin,All the prose and adjectives are hereWe’ll keep them the way they have always been. Let me give you a guilt tripContinue reading “Things that matter.”

My Poems

My heart is a building/memories blow/like the wind/Seekers shall findhome in my bones/My skin shall alwaysrelive the moments here/even if I go blind/ I draw hearts/on the glass/that shelters dew drops/for love is all I know/And to embrace the pain/is no weakness/For You shall grow/only when You know/ In the hallways/wander hearts/romanticising pain/In the nameContinue reading “My Poems”

Gods are dying in my country.

Centuries ago, during thecourse of evolution, humansbrought the whole speciestogether, on the base ofOne belief system; Religion.We thrived. They say nothing lastsforever; humans have this obsessionwith change,To know more, To be more. And now ( fast forward to ‘I’ )As ‘act of God’I see my country mouldingbeliefs of generations.God has now become a toolTo controlContinue reading “Gods are dying in my country.”

Wonders

Don’t just hear,listenwhat one wordwhisper to other,Here, all the words areadjacent yet farhow they managed to exist,I wonder. Also, Instagram

I’m dying poetry

In his Letters to Milena, Kafka wrote,‘You are the knife I turn inside myself;that is love. That, my dear, is love.’ And I can’t help but wondernumber of times I ate my own skinto feel your touch on my lips.And number of times I died,trying to reason with unknown.In search of words I travelthrough myContinue reading “I’m dying poetry”

731 days of mermaid

Here’s to unbelievable 2 years. I am very fortunate to stick around here for this long time and of course it’s all because ALL OF YOU. Thank you very much for believing in my words and staying here. Your constant support keep me going. I changed my blog URL this August ( in first week)Continue reading “731 days of mermaid”

Illusion.

Reblogging/ re-posting this, because my reach ( along with visibility of blog to people) and will to write here, is messed. I once heard someone say The world inside your head is barren, But I brush that thought away For who they are to think they know. The spring came but I failed to fixContinue reading “Illusion.”

//Touch has a memory//

I have been pretty transparent, if you’re really looking.On my skin, you could see the boy with hazel eyeswith softest curls and the way,he is touching my skin just by looking,You can feel the metaphorsrunning along my hairto your fingers;you can sense the memoriescurling up your hand.Will remind you of the last kissor I’ll fillContinue reading “//Touch has a memory//”

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