As a kid,
Playing and prancing
With a blue bloon,

I tied joys
To the end of kurta

With the belief
They would be with me

Till my play is over.

Like sugar
They melted and then mingled
In the dusty air.

A lesson I learnt:
Joys have no property.
When we smile
They are along with us.

The tick of the clock
And the thump of the heart
And the chirp of the bird
And the clap of the hand
And the breath of the lungs
And all the things that make me feel
Wrapped up in five senses

Time doesn't heal.
And the wound knows it.
Layers gather on the ****
but the damage remains,
hiding itself deep inside
the secret scar

Death is a cruel lover

for he cheats on me
with the people closest to me