Did you know?

How would you?

I used to think you’d be busy with something or the other 

So I kept a lot of stories of mine to myself

And kept cooking up stories in my head regarding you

The storm that I had in me

The typhoons of making you feel sheltered

Loved and guarded

Have come to a standstill

I am glad that I never cultivated a habit of seeing you

In things and in other people

Because in your appreciation

You are magnificent

And I don’t want you to be anything short of the same

I don’t feel the urge to cup your face anymore or

The urge to keep staring at you

I have spent a very large fraction of the very little time we ever had with each other scanning you

You are duly copied in my memories

And the ink used is in-erasable

I have burned so much on the inside

That even if you set it on fire it would hardly make any difference because I am resistant to it

I am glad that I was raised up such that I won’t need people when the nights are cold and the days are sunny

I have seen a lot of empty hallways and have lived them all

I have been in a dark room with its door locked and just a sun lit window to stare at until the evening comes

Do you see what I am hinting towards?

I don’t believe in finding a lover but building up one

Irrespective of the place or the situation

My compassion knows no bounds

You are one of my establishments

I can’t kiss someone until it’s my own creation

But I still take a chance and regret it later for letting someone suck on my lips like a vacuum machine

What I write isn’t always something serious

You know how comic I am

Or do you?

And cynical at the same time

It’s funny how I don’t end up writing about things that killed me inside

Literally, killed me

Because I don’t want you or anyone else die of the burden that something mean they have done is kept written somewhere and would prevail for decades to come

I suggest you read this over and over again

I don’t trust the universe with us ever sitting in its vicinity and sharing a few stories of your childhood which you once mentioned you would share

But sigh!

This was my very affable effort to cunningly put my stories in your pocket

Take it or leave it

Who cares anymore?

Oh! See, I can also be sarcastic.



The Afterlife of Love


One of these days I’d die of the fatality of this affair.

It’s etching, this feeling.

My lungs are emptying

And I stare in the space

Where once love stood

Wetting my mouth and my cunt with its sweet appraisal.

Now there’s ashes in my mouth

And the pits have replaced my eyesockets

I am ugly, it seems.

Love won’t approach me.

Dressed exactly how I want it to be, dressed.

In dried brown leaves and smelling like you.

I had been dangling.

From one object to the other

And from one feeling to the other.

My mind trying to find an orgasmic pleasure.

And it did,

Oh! But my sweet etching love

When did you change?

Leaving me pricking my own skin

Watching it shed blood, in perfect round dots.

I am perfectly out of my mind now

Scared of every approaching beast dressed in the most beautiful costumes

Listen to me,

I feel a lot

So much that my mind starts abusing my heart

And threatens to kill it if it starts complaining.


I keep quiet you know.

And watch you slip away

Loving you still, for my heart might die if I don’t.




//I have been meaning to write but kept delaying it//


I smell something gross or the smell is just monotonous, hence, irritating.

My limbs have lost all their energy.

I am drugged and I feel like sleeping all the time.

I purchase colourful clothes,

But I like my bedroom walls painted

In grey or beige or white.

I don’t like sleeping

Because every time I sleep, I dream.

In mornings, in the afternoon or at night.

I don’t hate dreaming but I hate being woken up in the middle of it.

Incomplete dreams are pain in the ass.

They don’t leave me.


//Thoughts blocked. Maybe, some other time//


The Radiance


Easy, beautiful and psychotic.

I have this image of you free falling,

Going deeper

In your mind.

Your pretty face, hermosa mujer.

What is it hiding?

I like your nose.

More than the nose, I like how you crinkle it

You think it gives definition to your face

And yes, it does.

I have to gaze away from you,

At times.

Your face is very lascivious.

If you wanna be seated on my lap

For a longer while.

You know, you can.

I like you here.


So let’s not talk about the very obvious

Surreal face and body that you have.

Tell me.

Where exactly do you want to be right now?


Are you really different than all the girls I know?

I can draw a perfect differentiation between you

And everyone else, you freak

But I hope I am not delusional.

Who the fuck cares even if I am?

You are not a normal girl.

You are a delusion.

Everyone else is normal but you aren’t.

I haven’t cared much about how this world works

Simply because “working” has never amused me

But have you seen a creation

or the nature working?

Ever so artistically and horrifically,

Your mind is no less.

No less than that.

Shall we take a tour someday?

Through that head, of yours.


I want to take you on a holiday.

We can sit on the sand,

By the beach on a sunny day

With my head resting on your lap

And you

Will recite all the dark stories

You have in your head

I like visualizing those.

Way more than I should.

I am lazy or I’d have written a lot more.

I won’t say that I love you

Not because I don’t but because you don’t know what love is

Not completely, not yet.

Red but Gray


Color of my blood, red.

Same is the colour of your anger.

Scrape my supple skin with your red colour ridden nails.

And make me bleed a little brighter.

Turn by turn and bit by bit,

Pluck my hair from the space within.

Fix a gaze at me and find,

The pits that will show you what’s inside?

Cut my chest open.

And leave it with my ribs broken.

Take my lungs out and show it to the world,

There’s enough tar in it but not enough blood.

Break my skull,

And thread by thread,

Unwind my brain.

Throw it in the rain, let it go down the drain.

A cold knife,

Tracing my warm thighs

Cut them deep and cut them right,

Make them call me a sad sight.

Take a pin

And puncture my eye,

Tell the world I said goodbye.

It’s now time for my vision to die.

My snide heart,

Rip it off my chest.

Give it to those gruesome kids,

Who could toss it and fret.

Leave it in the air

Unguarded, unwanted

Until it wears off and turns gray.



Lovers found and lovers lost.

Kisses shared and kisses that you forgot.

You wanted to keep her but you can’t.

You didn’t want to forget him, but you did.

The flame that you are burning in

For you can’t claim her and you can’t claim him.

You stab their existence,

And it’s your sadness that bleeds.

All these songs and the flowers in your backyard.

Once beautiful, now are charred records

Figments of your soul,

Travelling to other universes,

With the one forgotten and the one you are forgotten by.

Are we ever to cross paths?

Yes, in your mind and vision for the days to come.

She will still be in your dreams,

But she will appear to you only as the faded and the dirty picture hanging by the wall.

And for a new face you’d fall.

Lovers found and lovers lost.

You may not find someone like him,

She may not smell like her.

But when the time comes

You will bend your elastic heart

And don’t worry, you will adjust.

There is a universe, you like to think

Where there is a world for you and him

There still is, but what is hers is not yours.

And what is his is not yours.

What is not yours is not yours.

Would you do me a favour?

Just take care.

What you are looking for is not lost.

Its right here

And it’s right there.


From strangling my heart with your presence

To feeling my own skin with my own fingers

This is what remains

From the glitter of the turbulent youth on my cheeks

To the freckles of despaired youth.

This is what remains.

From loving you like a mad dog

To holding on to that last thread of hope.

This is what remains.

From smouldering in your words and the chiseled body

To struggling to paint a picture of yours.

This is what remains.

From shedding the clothes of what belonged to you

To packing myself up in a rug.

This is what remains.

From laying myself down like the land beneath your feet

To completely giving up on everything.

Now it’s ME that remains.



Aggravating, the lies.

Comforting, at the same time.

You will change.

The curtains will rise.

The sun will shine on a dying night.


Forever and always.

The depth in your eyes.

The dream you had last night.


The smile on their faces.

The despair and the cries.

You and I.


What you see and what you don’t.

The lovers will come and the lovers will go.

Get up, get up and put up a show.








If you know how it is to live with the burden of daunting eyes.

Deceased is my proclamation to breed amongst them

Our eyes are on the divine massacre in a place far away and actions that they’d defy.

They do what’s told to them to live life half dead.

We do what’s untold and unwritten to die a historic death.

There’s holocaust in our eyes but they see just the green

Like they hold the power over us, but perennially we hold the decree.


Sturdily always playing in my mind like a trumpet
Giving me sonic heartbeats

I sway in my own arms or in someone else’s

Intentionally perforating your presence in them

I give in after a while

No, it’s not you.


You’re jazz and everything else is blizzard.

But you slip out like the tunes that make my hair dance

Like my play list, like the changing songs

Slow, raging, steady, headfast

I place my fingers one after another

In the haze somewhere tapping the fingertips of yours.

Then I sway again, now on the patio out of their grip and mine

Welcoming you with the wind to seep in my skin.

Stay for a while, in the comforts of my bosom and the excruciating warmth

You have a long journey ahead to forge

I’m just obliged that you’re the jazz

Forsaking me ever so happy, ever so glad.