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

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 control… Continue 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

The Fictional Truth

We are in the middle of a pandemic and also the global and national predicament, not to mention, most of us are confused with a lot of questions and quite predictably turn to news. Alas!I feel like we have no where left to turn to. Like like we are stuck in a loop. Joseph Goebbels,… Continue reading The Fictional Truth

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//

//Love is Love//

Words will leave meat the end of this poemjust like your loveleft societies and heartsday by day ormaybe it was never there.Maybe I am too delicate.Breathing before I suffocate.Am I too slowto cope up with themornings, days and seconds?But I still am very receptivetowards love, affectionand the foundations ofyour faiths and religions.Everyday I hear lipsshouting… Continue reading //Love is Love//

// 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//

// of fears and discouragement//

The times are hard and my fears keep getting worse. In these fleeting moments, there are things I‘m scared of and care about.And then, there’s me.I’m my greatest accomplishment. I crave attention and validation from myself and write long paragraphs with weird rhythms to make sense of things around.I like to think of myself as… Continue reading // of fears and discouragement//

Send words/prompts

Hello beautiful people,I’m feeling disconnected from blog and this September I’m about to complete 2 years on WordPress.So to keep me going I invite you for words/ prompts you want me to write on and I’ll  post poems/rants out of them till October.You can send suggestions by commenting on this post or you can mail… Continue reading Send words/prompts

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