A girl on the bus.

I saw a girl on the bus today. Her eyes. Muslim, covered the whole of her face, except the eyes. And the eyes, enough for one to name the most beautiful thing in the world to compare them with. Those eyes that make you question …

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Dearest,

I watered the skies And painted the roadsI took down and edittedAll the sign boardsI waited the summerAnd delayed the fogI stood in the middleLonging to belongOur world I coveredIn veils of loveWhere each road you drive onIs a way to my coveI pled the …

I don’t wanna fight.. no more..

I'm done tryingWith every thing left in meAnd the last drop of my oceanSpent in saving meFrom Drowning into my landsDrying up with greif and guiltDying in the sweet sunlightSmiling with my open handsI wish only to stop the fightI wish only to stop the …

Ephemeral Wind

It came to me againWith the same blowWith the same painIt pushed me againCrawling on the same roadDrenched in the same rainIt brought a beautiful and vainLetter dressed in redIt brought my shatters with the stainOf my blood and my fleshIt came again to my …

I’m not scared of Death

I'm not scared of deathBut I'm scared of being aloneOn my death bed without loveI'm scared of being lovelessIn the last breaths of my beingI'm scared of living lessIn the days of losing strengthI'm scared of my longing palmsWith those tears of painI'm scared for …

Poet’s Love

I wanted to write for so long on how can love be so miniscule and yet expansive. If you must know the romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley, you must also know his many love interests. That he was a pervert, to call it precisely. Yet …

Why, Ol’ Man?

What do you portray, Ol' man? A chain of wisdom? Or a trail of mistakes? A pool of experiences? Or a river of betrayals? What do you portray, Ol' man? Your dark brown eyes? Or that trench deep in your voice? Your tired and coercive …

Are we sustaining or are we overruling?

Whenever we are motivated to do something by watching a documentary/video we fail to realize that all we are doing right now is sitting and thinking, not acting. But that's where the work begins. This piece is a reflection on a documentary I saw on YT.

Anticipation..

I was lying on my bed staring out of the jaali door doing nothing. It was an early morning of the monsoon months. Rain had just left the air with mild earthy essence. I could hear the birds and the peacocks. I could see the …