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



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.

Journey of the Soul

I’ve been on the verge of crying for too long now.
The tears have been brimming on the edge of these eyes forever.
I know how the shattering of dreams sounds.
I know how the hollow premises of the heart echo
When it has been abandoned by its owner.
I choke halfway through my words
Some fall out, the others stay inside
Brewing their toxins into my blood.
I explode a million times on the inside
But the mundane outer appearance never changes.
The smile, in reality, is a mere carving on a stone.
I turn away from everyone, to face my little universe;
A universe made of simpler joys and sorrows of life,
A universe that has consumed the whole of me yet has consumed nothing at all.
I sit so long that my receding hairline becomes evident
And my outer self becomes weak,
But my distorted universe never ceases to storm my insides.
I stumble on a mere thunder,
I fall on the tiny gravel.
My weak body lets go of my vibrant soul,
The rains pour down on my coffin;
Entirety of universe mocking my fragile body
Yet rejuvenating my shrinking soul.
Maybe I was never meant to exist as a human.
Maybe the universe had other plans for me.
Maybe that is why when the sun’s rays broke through the clouds to fall upon my coffin, my spirit danced in joy,
Leaving behind a sparkling rainbow in its wake.

Watch Closely


Are you watching closely,
The wind that blows?
It could be coming from a galaxy,
Neighbouring close.

Are you watching closely,
The shape of the clouds?
It could be coming out
From the chimney of God’s house.

Are you watching closely,
The rain that falls?
It could be the resultant tears
Of Adam and Eve’s brawl.

Are you watching closely,
The grass in the farms?
It could be the goosebumps
On mighty earth’s arms!

Are you watching closely,
When lightning hits the ground?
It could be the opening portal
For the spirits that roam around.

Are you watching closely,
The ravaging twister with mighty rings?
It could be an oversized spinning top
Spinning loose from its strings.

Are you watching closely,
The ants on the ground?
We could be the ants
For creatures not yet found.

Are you watching closely,
The hollow trunk of a tree?
Peek inside and you might find
An unbelievable, breathtaking story.

Existence of a parallel universe.
Does it ring a bell?
Don’t worry if it twists your mind and thoughts,
Because it twists mine as well.

Life Of A Breath

It is always about the priorities, they say.
Sometimes its about the emotions that drive you away.
It is said, its always the bigger things that matter,
Small things are tucked under them as the latter.
The little mistakes here and there that you rue,
Stick to your past with the strongest glue.
Its about those sinister smiles that never leave your side,
From which you can neither run nor you can hide.
Its always about the society, you see?
Ignoring you with indifference, trashing all your pleas.
Its about the four people that would care,
And not about those filthy, disgusting stares.
They feel only possible way out,
Is to hand her over to a family without a second doubt.
For them, it is all a matter of pride!
To drain everything they can, from the bride.
For the girl’s family, it is about keeping the so-called name of ancestors,
And not about those troublesome pesters.
Its not the delicate girl that they need,
Its the golds and riches they pay heed to.
Bulks and bulks are never enough,
Life of the girl is always rough.
Those lovely rosy lips are meant to be stitched with silence,
Mind and body bearing the unbearable violence.
The blades and needles just work on the flesh and skin,
Its the depression and helplessness that kills the soul deep within.
But she finally gets rid of that pain,
For she is, in the best possible way, slain.

Since that day, she is free from all the boundaries and pests,
As, in a graveyard, under the flowers, she finally rests.