if I could spend the entire day talking to you , I would.
if I could stay back every single day just to watch you smile for 60 more minutes , I would.
if I could go out with you every day ,maybe nothing big, like a walk under the starry sky or to the bookshop, I would
if I could hold your hand for the rest of my life and laugh about nothing in particular
I would eat every single weird vegetable just to see your crack up and stay longer.
I would kick all the sand in all the deserts ever over your brand new shoes just to get your attention.
I would write you more poetry than you could ever read
I would text you all day, every day, you know I would.
I would probably scream your name over hills and listen to it echo around us.
I would tell the world what you really meant to me.
I would mess up your hair all the time to the point it would look like you REALLY didnt comb.
I would hold you and hug you till my arms would ache and then it would be your turn.
I would go back  and relive everything with you, the right way.


I really would if I could.
but you know I cant.
so maybe I'll just sit here
and dream instead.

To those men who are always behind us, though sometimes we may not see them.
To those men who are too busy flying fighter jets to teach their daughters to make paper planes.
To those sons who will point at every aeroplane that skims the horizon to proudly claim, “that’s my father!”.
To those women whose hearts will return wrapped in the tricolour and chipped aluminium; Who will place dented helmets beside faded polaroids of days gone by.
To those youth who will break solemn promises- “I’ll come back soon.”
To those families that will stare out of windows, refusing to draw down curtains as they hope against hope.
To those men who can truly say the sky is the limit.
To those men who fly above us yet are so rooted to the cause of their motherland.
Those brave hearts whose faces are lined with sweat and determination as they kiss the ground beneath their feet before they embrace the heavens for the last time.
To the men who take every sortie with a last salute.
To the white saris and navy-blue shirts stashed away and medals hung on rusted nails. To survival and martyrdom and the presence of absences. To commodores and flight lieutenants and wingmen. To parades and memoirs and sacrifices and soldiers in the sky.
The Eighth of October is for them.
To those men who are always behind us, though sometimes we may not see them.
To those men who are too busy flying fighter jets to teach their daughters to make paper planes.
To those sons who will point at every aeroplane that skims the horizon to proudly claim, “that’s my father!”.
To those women whose hearts will return wrapped in the tricolour and chipped aluminium; Who will place dented helmets beside faded polaroids of days gone by.
To those youth who will break solemn promises- “I’ll come back soon.”
To those families that will stare out of windows, refusing to draw down curtains as they hope against hope.
To those men who can truly say the sky is the limit.
To those men who fly above us yet are so rooted to the cause of their motherland.
Those brave hearts whose faces are lined with sweat and determination as they kiss the ground beneath their feet before they embrace the heavens for the last time.
To the men who take every sortie with a last salute.
To the white saris and navy-blue shirts stashed away and medals hung on rusted nails. To survival and martyrdom and the presence of absences. To commodores and flight lieutenants and wingmen. To parades and memoirs and sacrifices and soldiers in the sky.
The Eighth of October is for them.

This is the sound of
A thousand breaking hearts and
Each of them is mine.

1  But i'm just so done
8  With life. I can't wait
0  around to be some hero.
0  I'd rather be a photo
2  On the mantelpiece. Too
7   Scared to even
3   Try and hope to be
8  better. i won't be great
2  someday. Nothing i can do
5  to help me survive
5  hell why am i even alive..

I know how to love and I know how to lose,
I know how its best sometimes to not choose.
I know how to leave and I know how to stay,
I know how some people mean more than they say.
I know how to forget and I know how to forgive,
I know how its good to live and let live.
I know how to hide and I know how to show,
I know when it's best to just let go.
I know how to rise and I know how to fall,
Heaven bless me but I still dont know all.

I remember him smelling of strawberries and cream, like an unexpected breeze on a winter day.
I remember her pulling him away.

I remember my gaze searing into his eyes, willing him to come back.

I remember him down on his knees, rose clutched in one hand.
It wilted soon, I remember that too.

I remember crying buckets and rivers, begging him to stay.

I built a bridge to get over it. Too weak to stand my pain.
it collapsed.

I remember the laughs and kisses that day.
I saw them looking at each other in a painfully familiar way.
(I caught a glimpse before I ran away)

Love
is a drug.
because
it can
**** you.
You can risk
everything for
Love.
Everything.

It will reduce you
to nothing.
It will make you forget
all your troubles.

No matter how
hard you try,
or how far
you run.
You will come hurtling back.

And you can
never
ever
have enough of it.

But
medicines are
Drugs too.
Love can cure you.
It makes you
whole.
Love will fix you.

Love is what makes
this life
worth living.

Love is a drug.
it can make you
or break you.
Just like everything else.

In physics today,
we learnt about
the Limit of
Proportionality.
Beyond that point
something stretched
remains like that.
Stretched.

I think my
heart
has finally reached
those coordinates.
Its scarred
permanently.
Beyond repair.

Sure
I fix it
with glue and love,
I fix it.
And each time it
falls,
It breaks again.

Its naïve. It's young.
It's broken.
Its more pain than love.
Somedays it just
stops working.
It gives up.

But my heart
has learned to
fight.

It's got a shield
of indifference.
A chainmail of hate.
It's iron and stone.

But its caged
that way
Can't live that way.
So I let it be.
I let it go.

Some days, it doesnt
belong to me.
But it comes back
eventually.
Because my heart love me the most.

Love is Temporary, kid.
Forever doesnt exist.
                                 ______
The skies have opened up tonight.
Its raining.
Finally somebody understands.
my heart cries with the clouds
And Ive finally run out of glue.