Month: March, 2015

Guilty Pleasures

You are a friend dressed in a form of a stranger

You chose to be one!

You come to me like a made up story

Trying to hide the truth behind every vowel of that long symphony

Possessing the secret pleasures, you wander around

Trying to make me fall for one.

But, you do not know I want to desperately be carried away

Make mistakes and Enjoy those guilty pleasures

Be mesmerized by your smell that lingers when you breath

The smell is toxic, addictive and vindictive

You just don’t leave a chance to make me feel helpless

Constrained by my own conscious I hold myself, control and try

Not to invoke your thoughts into my provoked mind

Heart has got no say, you have all housed my brain

Every corner shouts your wicked presence

Hungry for those dry red lips

You come near mark your presence

Leave me baffled and vulnerable

You haunt and go away as soon as the morning sun comes out

But, with the promise to come back every night with the moon

You assure me of your appearances

Till i let go hold of myself

You are a dangerous soul

Soul with insane love and passion

Hungry for warmth

You will come again some day and not at night

And then you will never get a chance to come scare me at night.


The Symphony that played last night.

Sitting right in front of him

On that pretty chair.

Cuddling a blue, black pillow

Right by the silent chill of the glass window.

Cracking jokes and breathing hard

High on the talks, he left last night.

The melodies I hear are the only ones

Your words make out of your mind.

She read the wolf story with a hot coffee.

She dreamed of the sweater with a pink glaze.

She felt her gaps filling in

With that hysterical behavior

He sat on the couch with a deck

Scribbled a riddle on the king of hearts.

He knew he was distant

With all the inches between, the pixels created.

They sat all night and discussed laughter

Subdued by his charm,

She wore a mysterious smile

From the corner of his eyes,

He saw that.

Both of them knew,

Life was going to be a bit messier now.

Where does it house?

I dwell in this body.

My soul isn’t this,

It is the Sunday morning breeze.

The one, where there is an evening story,

Wailing baby, oh! My soul glares back at that cute little life

And, when there is a smile on the face of a wrinkled skin

As a mind of a toddler notorious, impatient, curious,

Fascinated by the slightest of things

It travels where  my friends gather for a cup of tea, and munch things together

It jumps to my family where they sit together for lunch every day

It houses places unknown, uncharted

Hungry for adventure, it seems

Happiness is all, it seeks.

You come, we meet

You come and we meet, we walk and we talk

You ask and I answer, we spend time together

Neither do you know, nor do I

Not stuck, nor troubled, we just are engrossed

Like lost staring at the endless void of this sky

Clueless yet happy with this uncertainty

We trod along those paths merrily

As a story with no meaning

Those corners, we come across, stare, whisper

Stories about our laughter

The dust we endure, cry over the melancholy of our coyness

The secrecy of our glances, those untold beginnings

And those unanswered endings,

Let us go on this path, aimless, clueless,

We dwell on those memories, we do when we walk,

We cherish those moments, the ones when we talk

This anonymity feels certain,

So do you and I.