Nothing to see here

Within and without

Outraged by and about myself;

blatant mistakes.

How does one storm out, shut the door

Ask yourself to get lost, get out?

Win at self destruction

And live to know you’re winning?


All the roses I’ve got

are now potpourri

A jar with the lid closed tight

kept away with a memory

I’d hold back the words

if it’s the breath before the kiss

tracing the lines,

losing track of time

Mingling between my lemon perfume

shackled to a wicked game;

sin on skin.

Clutching the moonlight and shattering into star-dust


Opposite of Us

One day you saw me for who I am;
other side of the coin
The you-can-have-it-all-but-want-melancholy
against the sheer impulse to be happy.
That I was right when I said
People look sad when they smile;
you simply have look into their eyes.
When you said I should love myself
To love anyone else
but what if
people we love so deeply could make us love ourselves?
Oh my ugly words
Wallowing in all what you don’t want to hear
my fatigue over your interpretations;
Making me the opposite of you,
Opposite of us.

Twenty and a seventeen


As we watched the crashing waves, sunset

Rebuking a kid for throwing his toy to the sea,

Joking about the rats near the beach have a room with a view,

Wondered what an year;

How many things changed, altered but remains the same

Been through enough but lived less

That online dating is just repulsive fish in a basket

Then we kept looking at the sea, and I the stars

Parting as we promised to meet more often,

Knowing the lack of probability.

be kind to all but take no shit

How can we be relatable to the past that we did not live? You read from Shakespeare to Austen to T. S. Eliot and contemplate. The inkling that we all are Alfred J. Prufrock-s, “measure(ing) out (my) life with coffee spoons”. So easy it seems yet so hard to understand the present, the person next to you. Why? Because you assert subtext, you over-think, over-analyse and in the end, we have subtle changes that drastically draw us apart. It is not entirely a matter of morality, not good and bad. It is rather a selfish indecision that what is bad is what is bad for you, and only you.

I am this person sometimes. I lose sanity in a split second and I do not know happiness and I’m relentlessly pursuing.
The only aspect that will change is how I perceive each person which in fact depends on the person and how much he/she lacks kindness. I don’t think I want to go back in time to undo or redo anything. It doesn’t mean I have the perfect little life. I didn’t. I’m the saddest and that makes me laugh. That’s the thing about me, I know you and myself before all of that and I know when I’m risking happiness. What do I do? I become assertive that pain is something I willingly inflict upon myself. I wasn’t a happy kid nor was I sad but I felt indifferent of the time I had bad handwriting in my mother tongue and I was to scribble in a pencil just for that subject because it was that bad, the time I was bullied and only reason I wrote exams was because I wanted to get out of everything. But I did it all, went through worst than that only to realise that real life is the bigger picture of a high school drama although you don’t know who, how or when. Over the course of time, I have a simple answer – be kind to all but take no shit. I know it’s hard but when you do not care enough, it’ll inevitably result in a little kindness for others and yourself.
Yes, love yourself. Love your mushy, annoying, intolerable self. Love your kind, sunshine of a self.
Most of all love everyone who makes an effort to stay and give you the love you’ve given.

The sun, the moon.

​Moon amidst the stars. 

Fragile, sensuous, serene 

With one frailty; 

love for paradoxes. 

Quite a dreamer Of daylight 

And saw the sun as a charmer

with beguiling chit-chats

Piercing the moon’s black soul.  

She thought it was paradise- 

A love that lingers between tacit and tactile. 

Sun cared less and burnt her a little.

Drenched the colour body and soul

Moon gave herself to the sun.