What is summer if not theexcitement brought byfragrance of springtangled in cold wind,running through the hillsdesperately,to reach the soil bloomingin plains?? The sun shinning over treesThe source of light and heatcuring blues of winter patientlyand the pearly clouds aroundplaying hide and seek.Doesn’t the Sky feel dreamy? The enticing aromaof fleshy mangoesis scattered around thespring dominating… Continue reading Summer
Another day while I was trying to escape from the dark, I saw this boy in middle of the park. Everyone was sitting in shade but he sat in open, The smile on his face was near to broken. Instead of sky I started staring him, when our eyes met his went dim. He got… Continue reading Garden
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 trip… Continue reading Things that matter.
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
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.
Don’t just hear,listenwhat one wordwhisper to other,Here, all the words areadjacent yet farhow they managed to exist,I wonder. Also, Instagram
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
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
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 fix… Continue reading Illusion.
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//