Tangled Secrecies

But darling, let’s not hurry just yet. Let us sit across, cross-legged, and untangle each other. Let us strip away each other’s guilts, regrets, everything that weighs us down. Let us caress our changes and marks that our body has bore over time. Let us not go to bed tonight. Instead, make love with our nervous and scared souls; let them out in the open, reveal our raw self, and let one another touch us bare. No, not the bare skin; the bare emotions and feelings which we keep battling with day and night, the ones we shove into the dusty corners of our mind because we are too afraid to accept what might become of us if we let them mate with our tongue. Let us untangle each other, nerve by nerve, bone by bone, and witness the bits and pieces of our memories and our passions clinging to our veins, the happy and hard times flowing in our blood. Let’s just let the blood ooze out of us till what remains in us are happy times and lessons; just lessons – not a pinch of guilt or regret. Because we get this short life and we waste it away on events we can’t undo. We keep replaying them and torturing ourselves time and again. Let us break that replay button and create love in the voids left by washed out nervousness and dirt of the past.
Come on love, let us redefine ourselves and fall in love.

Come, let’s sit across one another, cross-legged, and create each other.


Hide and Seek

Holding you between the pages of the books, feeling you flow from one person to another, watching you wrap every person in your embrace like the mild breeze, I stand there; still, numb.

I have always been unable to understand what magic you hold in yourself that makes people dance and cry, jump and slump, smile and shrug. I don’t know how you can cut like a knife yet soothe like a peaceful walk on a calm night.

It has always been difficult for me to know when you are around me, for we have been playing hide and seek since childhood and I haven’t been able to find you till date. All the people around me tried to get us along, but our wavelengths never matched.

I probably will never be able to hug you like other people or be calmed by your warmth, for I am the dumb and you are the words. We live in the same world but will never have the privilege of meeting.

Ode to Love

My love,
Crumble yourself,
Doubt yourself,
Be a better version of yourself.
Question everything
Let yourself be open
To words and wisdom
To criticism and everything else
That makes you believe
You can be better
Than this.
Be at peace
With yourself and your surroundings
For life is a maze of noises;
Useful and useless ones.
And one can only find their way out
If they watch
and hear closely
To the sounds that matter.
The ruffle of leaves,
The blood flowing in arteries,
The whisper of regret,
The loud words that happiness said,
The soft lullaby
Of a tree.
Or the tip-toeing rhythm
Of a storm.
Absorb it all.
Take the fall.
Accept yourself
As you are.
And in the end,
When you’ve come to a conclusion,
Come to me.
I will wrap you in love and memories,
Happy memories.
So in the end,
If you change a little
or even
Change completely,
I will love you,
All over again.
~ Ode to mi Amor

Certain Uncertainties

You feel like hiding your face in the pillow or sitting in the closet all day, every day. You are so vulnerable that you’re always on the verge of crying and you know that you’ll burst in tears if someone genuinely comes and asks you ‘are you okay?’.

I know. You sit on the grass digging holes in the ground, plucking each blade of grass thinking about their fragile life. You feel lost most of the times. And you’re in a constant state of numbing nothingness where you don’t know anything about what’s happening around you, where you have no answer to any question that is being asked to you. You just sit there, in an irritatingly lost mood, trying to figure out things; trying to figure out life.
So let me tell you this one thing – I don’t know if you’ll ever feel complete, or if you’ll find a way back to love, or if everything in your life will piece together. I don’t know if you’re going to figure out your life, or if you’ll ever get back to being your old self again.
All I can tell you is that I know, and I know for sure is that despite all these problems, all this blankness, you’re going to be alright. You’ll survive. You will be a changed person, yes. But a changed person for good.
You’re going to wake up one day, and I don’t know if you’ll find the sun shining a little brighter, but you’ll find one thing –

You’ll find a way back to yourself.

Midnight Dilemmas

There was something about her on which I couldn’t really put a finger on that didn’t let me sleep for nights at length. It was the good times that we had spent together that came in rushing like a wind and brought down my wall that I had built with so much difficulty to keep her away.

No, it was not my fault. Yes, she was the one to free our knot of love and friendship. But yes, she still, to this day wrecks havoc in my mind.

There’s something about her that keeps bothering me. Making me relive all the times we lived together and all the conversations we had and the secrets we shared so I could find one place where I must’ve gone wrong.

But this empty, horrid void stares back at me with numbing nothingness, painted with her recent carefree smiles. I plunge again into the darkness hoping to find a way out of this mind-jail.

I go through every detail again, one by one by one.

Maybe it is the sound of my entire heart shattering to bits and pieces that prevents me from putting a finger on that something, or a simple yet foreign fact to my understanding that some people can burn you piece by piece and grow gardens out of those ashes and build their happy castles on where your grave lies.


I sit here in this empty hallway, thinking about the memories that are engraved in a way here. Memories of me and you spending quiet moments, appreciating each other’s existence; memories where I couldn’t take my eyes off you and you stood still, beautiful as always. Whenever I crossed you in this hallway, I couldn’t resist appreciating your grace and beauty. You, in turn, never said a word. But your presence said it all. All the profound words, you expressed with grace. I still can’t forget the day I first saw you. It was love at first sight and I couldn’t hold back my feelings so elite! I also can’t forget the day when you came into this house, our home. It was pure bliss, to have you around. To have your quiet yet strong presence was the strongest of feelings I felt till date.
And yet, today I stand alone in a home we made together, now abandoned. So I take this moment to say that I miss you. I miss standing so close to you, tracing your curves, looking at you with eyes and heart full of love. All that I am today is because of you. It is you who inspired me to become an artist. It is you who aroused my love for art! And yet, I had to let you go today, to another appreciator of beauty.. my most honored, beloved Hussain painting.

Daunting Lullabies


When some other girl comes in your life, she will find my ghost still lurking in the dark corners of you.
She will be the priest who will try to purify you and I will be the evil that will refuse to leave.

She will get to know you inside out except for why you never visit that coffee shop in your neighborhood anymore. It’s because its every nook and cranny is haunted by our love.

She will never know why you always take her only to the clubs and the discos. It is because I was the one who you took home to your mother.

She will always know the best of you but I will always be the one who will have seen the worst of you. I will always be a visitor of parts of you that you have now abandoned.

I will always be there, sauntering in and around your memories.
I will always be the one who you dream of.
Daydreams then, nightmares now.

She will come to know that you had loved a lioness and tried to tame her. She will then know why you have claw marks on your soul and bite scars on your heart and why the long past pain still lingers in you.
She will know why you walk around with a decapitated self.
It’s because no one has ever walked unharmed after trying to handicap a fierce woman.
You will crave for my kind of love like an addict craves for drugs. But you will not find it anywhere.
Because my love is one of its kind and you were too late in realizing that I won’t turn back once I decide to leave.
So you will see me living happily with a lion, making memories in some other coffee shop; and your insides will burn like molten lava, when you’ll look at us from a distance like a hyena.

You will never be able to love anyone anymore, no matter how hard you try.
Because I am the one whose footprints you can’t wash off your mind and heart, whose voice flows like blood in your veins, whose laughter defines the beats of your heart; and now that I have left, your eyes give an insight of your emptiness.

Others will never know why your hollow laughter and every single breath reek with my presence and why you walk around with a ‘haunted’ placard, giving out my fragrance in every word you speak.

~ Memoirs of your haunted dreams

Beauty and Reflections

I lost a couple strands of hair today.

Maa says that my hair will become stronger and shinier with the special oil she massages on my scalp once in every two days. Everyone in the family has loved my mane and the way I look. Dadi always puts a black teeka behind my right ear to keep away all harm from me.

Some of my classmates are beauty freaks. But instead of the natural beauty, they go for all kinds of made up perfection to show others how flawless they look. Following in their footsteps, some of the not-so-popular girls transform themselves into someone they’re not, just to match the beauty standards defined by other people.

All I see around me is that every person, be it a boy or a girl, is running after perfection without actually realizing that their imperfections are what make them unique. Everyone wears these fake masks for so long that their originality starts to fade away with time. Today’s generation is all about looking good instead of being good.

If you look through my eyes, even the overweight girl who carves out tally marks on her body is as beautiful as the girl with spotless, shiny skin. Everything that lives is beautiful. Every breath we breathe is a proof that we are a miracle.

Maa tells me at times that we are all living paintings and that whenever there are tough times and one needs to find magic, all they need to look into is the mirror.

I look in the mirror at times and try to love the reflection that stares back at me. I look at my eighteen year old self and look at my receding hairline. My beautiful hair, taken away by the chemo sessions.

My cancer got detected when I was seventeen and since then, my life has taken a hundred and eighty degree flip. Earlier, I wanted to fit in. Now, I just want to live. This one year of struggles has changed the way I look at life. Harry Potter series are my favourite. The one thing that has me hooked to them is the fact that Harry overcame every difficult situation and defeated the Dark Lord. If he can be the boy who lived, I will be the girl who survived.

I lost a couple strands of hair today. Some from the very few I have left.

Coffee and Reveries


I see you sitting across the coffee table, lost in your thoughts, unaware of the secret romance going on between your hair and the mild autumn breeze. My fingers instantly get jealous of the way the wind caresses your hair and brings to me the souvenirs of this affair as a whiff of your perfume which sends a shiver down my spine. I see you occasionally breathing deeply, your breath bringing about swift movements in the pages of the open book kept under your nose. Even the pages stretch themselves and tremble with love under your warmth.

I sit and observe the little changes your presence brings in your surroundings, all without you even noticing. Tell me how can a person be so irresistibly charming and yet so oblivious of the power they hold? Tell me how can one add up to the perfection of this world with their imperfections? Tell me how?

All these answers lie in front of me on that coffee table. They are in the passionate stretches of those otherwise dull pages, in the wild romance of your gorgeous sun-kissed hair and the playful warm breeze. I look at you and I find myself going weak in the knees and I feel my heart fluttering like a newly hatched butterfly. I feel myself falling deeper in love with you.

Even though you are not made up with what they define beauty and perfection, you have eyes that hold in them an entire universe, you have a face which would take anyone’s breath away if they traverse through its contours, you have a smile that could be a poet’s muse. I could go on and on about how bewitching all your words sound, how entrancing it is to just look at you and lose myself in daydreams.

I think about how life would be with you when all the worldly charm has left our bodies, when all our colorful hair have turned to grey. I want this passionate, crazy love to live among us as long as we do. Love me so enchantingly that when we are a two people army, old and fragile, we will hold each other tight and sway to the melodies we once used to love, back when we were young and bubbly. Hold me such that my weak knees don’t make me trip over my own feet and look at me such that it takes me back to the days of our young, crazy romance, where your eyes loved the companionship of my flowing hair and wide smile.

You snap a finger in front of my eyes and it breaks my reverie, bringing me back to reality and I realize myself smiling goofily at you. You ask me about my thoughts but unable to justify them through mere words, I shrug and say nothing. We get up to leave and I feel a sense of peacefulness evade all my stress as you hold my hand and the mild breeze cuddles us lovingly.

In that moment, I know that this is all I’ll ever need, that you are where my happiness lies.


I sit on the windowsill 
with a paper in my lap,
a cup of coffee in hand
And him, in my mind.
The rains pour down,
petrichor bringing back
memories of 
our happy summer days.
The pen made love to the paper,
Leaving behind
scribbled words in mushy ink.
And him, in the
chaotic coffee stains
spilled across all my pages.