Before present

Long before the presentthere was a boy named humanity.He lived in dense vegetationof Africa and decided to explore the land.With the little language knew,On his way to Eurasiafound a collection of wordscalled dictionary.To his surprisethere were many sentencescarved out with wordsFloating in the white background.He was stuck at the first pagewhich read:1. Famine (noun)     Absence… Continue reading Before present

30 of 60

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

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 a… Continue reading A City of heartbreaks

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 name… Continue reading My Poems

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 my… Continue reading I’m dying poetry

//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 fill… Continue reading //Touch has a memory//

// ‘V’ sign of tears //

I see life unfold before me,Like a distant memoryin moments of perfect harmonyyou build your home in my chestrising from the pit of my stomach;And rush into my eyes before I know.World behind you is blurredI try to hold on to it,To a memory, to a moment, to you. And like any other dayyou ignore… Continue reading // ‘V’ sign of tears //

// zoning out from blog//

Not writing this week? Want to know what piques my anxiety? Ask me a question.It’s not people that I’m scared of but myself. My words aren’t forced, they come to me, like rain, forming clouds slowly pouring out of my body. My fingers forge the sky and I embody the universe. But I suppose universe… Continue reading // zoning out from blog//

A poem for everyone

Ever looked at someone and thought, is this what poetry in motion is?!Because I do think that sometimes, like right now, sitting here while my mind is dwelling in the vast sea of profound memories of all the people I have come across and I am realising all of them were beautiful in a way… Continue reading A poem for everyone

Let them be

This constant pressure someone feeling that they are entitled to talk to you daily can be draining ( and can break the bonds too). When going through things, the most creative people can also run out of words and the answer to every question can be nothing more than “okay”. We keep checking on people… Continue reading Let them be