Category: Poetry


Summer chilly night, the moon half-lit
Witnessing a dilemma that life poses.
Half smoked cigarette at 3 had something to say,
about life, universe and everything.
Sitting there quite by the window
It was everything a respite would consist of
But something went missing
The silent tunes buzzing at the back
Some Bukowski to feed the brain and the heart
A big BUT
Stood there staring in her face
It wasn’t the presence of a shadow or a hint of embrace
It was the subtle absence of peace of mind
That was missing
It was big empty cut, a space
A void
Carved right out in the middle of her chest
The smoke coming out of the empty void
Daunting her of the part that went


Healing is a process

Does love really fade, or hide or die or say bye?
Does it really every leave your system?
How do you stop loving someone?
How do you discard those million memories, scenarios and moments?
Do you just delete the pictures that have dominated your gallery and your mind?
How do you delete their existence from your thinking?
How do you wake up every morning and not think about them?
Or how do you train your heart to not skip a beat when you see them pass by and not take a notice of your presence?
How do you not cry yourself to sleep when the pangs of their memories are torturing you?
How do you stop loving someone who has become your second skin?
How do you?

Muses of a long time lover

How beautiful could you be?
You saw the bent lines and kissed me
With all the love you encompass
Beautiful boy, your eyes talk to me
Like no other poem ever has
Your fingers entwined with mine
I feel your bones, i feel you
I feel your skin
Your touch awakens me
The whiff of your smell; it is a sweet melody of your presence
Your embrace.
I am not afraid of letting my pleasures take over me,
I am terrified by the thought
of losing my soul to you.

Looking for my abode- I

When the words you want to live by,
no longer seem to help
Walk outside,
go under the blue sky
Bask in the vastness
Let it guide you home!

My Humble Abode

It has four walls but fails for a roof
Some would say that it is a summer night bliss
But I would rather call it a home.
I dwell without belongings.

They encompass my laughter and tears,
Stolen kisses and broken heart conversations
Corners that let me breath in peace.
I dwell without belongings.

Luxuries like scenic sunsets and posh nights
Is not what it provides.
But it gives me a sight,
A sight to see beyond the city
A city of myriad hues and muses.
I dwell without belongings.

It does not have a door
But it opens its arms to everyone
It knows no bound
For the ones who know:
How star studded sky or the bird etched blue pashmina
Can make your day and night!

I dwell without belongings
In my humble abode.

The one who lived for a night

The bed of wings lay spread
on this bountiful earth.
The moon adorned with the cloud pashmina,
Must have delightfully witnessed some pleasure
Of how they tried, tried with all their might
And flew towards the ball of light: their sun
Believing the night was all they had: their lifetime
To catch a ray of that glow.
With glory they descend into the soil
Making sure their wings embark
The ballad of their struggles.

After Effects

The decision is never about the choices.

It is always about what will you do,
When there is no looking back from the road?

Will you be able to live with it?

You will always be bothered,
Will the inner demon be pacified?
Or, will you explode like a cracker?
The pieces of you all over the place
But never Together.


Why do we write?

Have you ever wondered,

Why people choose writing as a form of expression?

Because the rules cease to exist

In those lands

Where people have believed

A pen is mightier than the sword.


Beautiful or Pretty

Am I beautiful?
or just pretty?
Beautiful, like those snow clad mountains in the distance
And the stream that flows by!
Or, Pretty? The kind where you see the endless sky
In shades of blue and white
And you sigh!
"Pretty, isn't it?"
Would I be the one
with whom you stay for a day and live
Live, like it is your forever.
And at the end you would say
Gasping for breath,
"Beautiful, beautiful, is all I have to say"
Or, Would I be the one,
With whom you spend
Nits and bits of your life?
Here and there we wander,
Finding pleasures in pieces of wonder
Having a Pretty life!


Love is Death.

The most dangerous form of self destruction.

Happily you walk towards your own grave,

Enjoying every minute of the journey.

Love is, will always be, the most preferred way of self destruction.

Being killed by the things and people you are made of.

With smile on your lips and peace written all over your face,

Poisoned by the sweet words poured into our hearts

Now and again!