He looked around
at the all the faceless
people, oblivious
to the notion
that they were but
a disturbance
a flicker
a fault
a whimper
in the grand scheme
of things
and he wished
that he too could
take part in their quiet
unassuming disposition

I didn't believe in paper cuts
much like I didn't believe in love
until one day as I turned the pages
of a rather flimsy paperback
bound together
more so by the story it held
between its yellowing pages
than by its tattered spine
In my hurry to rush forward
with the other lives
I found myself so invested in
I felt a stinging burn pierce
the flimsiest part of my index finger
that seemed separated from the blood
(that was with such impertinence
bursting forth from my veins)
by the smallest stretch of skin
I watched the crimson pool
and drip reluctantly onto
the unsuspecting paper
and realised in that moment
you don't fall in love
you stumble into it, face-first
and feel the singeing burn afterward

Don't tell me
I'm pretty
like one of your french girls
don't do that
don't tell me I'm beautiful
I don't want to hear it
you'll tell me that
and I'll believe it
because I know
just as much as you do
I believe it now
and I'll even believe it
a month hence
when you shout out
in front of all your friends
that I'm an ugly *****
and I'll smile at your impunity
and delete your number off my phone
but a few days later
when you're a little less drunk
you'll see the mistake you made
and then you'll realize
what you really had to tell me
was not that I'm some sort of
flawless celestial creature
but
that I'm the most interesting woman
you've ever ******* known
and then you'll see
why I know I'm beautiful.

If the flicker of a flicker of a flicker
in the farthest corner of my heart
could cause such unseemly eruptions
inside the inside of my insides
that leave me breathless
even months after
can you begin to imagine
the unholy mess
the unearthly calamity
that would unfold
if the spark of a spark of a spark
were to blind my eyes
with their mere fortuitous existence?

Some days to the world
I am the thunder
Clapping at the lightning I see in others
And on some days
I am the lightning
Striking out, in awe of my own strength
But on most days
I feel like the cloud
That holds within it
The sound and the fury
Of the thunder and the lightning
With no ******* idea
What to do with it all.

Infinities and unfathomables
Unseeables and unthinkables
They want the unachievable
But all I ask in this transcient state
Is a tiny forever
Just within the confines of possibility
Just outside the realm of reality
Right in the center of your soul.

the words of a stranger
a hundred realisations
a mixture of salt and water
enough to fill a bowl and a half
the words of another stranger
a cosmic shift
and an inscrutable force of will
is all it took
and some more
for her to pick herself back up
and ride on
and out of the labyrinth.

Of heart beats and beech strings
Of broken souls and abandoned goals
Of vast expanses and unexplored universes
Of the sea and the sky
The tired moon and ugly summer nights
And sand that singes through your skin
Of aching artists and self proclaimed martyrs
The worn down stars are starting to fade out
Stop trying so hard
You're stuck between a rock and a hard place
There's nothing glorious about that.

Colours
Like you've never seen before
Blind these lost souls
As
To the music they sway
Their carefully sculpted hips
Banishing
Any thoughts
That endeavour to stray
Into their fickle minds
Between sips
Lips
That curve
Into phony smiles
Citing pitiful attempts
At humour
What are they hoping
To achieve here?
What are they hoping
To find?
I think
I'm going to stop deluding myself now
I'm going to go look for my own kind.

the memory
it ebbs slowly
sauntering
occasionally to the fore
wandering
leisurely
into the darker pastures
of my entail
I know not
if this is a good thing
they say the grass
is greener
on the other side
all I know is
I never want to forget
the feel of the grass
on your side
of the pasture
the dewy descent
of your hungry hands
as they snake their way
over my skin
impelling
my pretty little heart
to do the grasshopper dance
the feel of your lips
as they traced
the corners of my mouth
I don't want to forget
but
you've moved
to darker pastures
leaving
lots of green in my heart
they said
the grass was greener on the other side
they were wrong.

Solemn Surprises
In happy crevices
A revelation
A confrontation
Disbelief.
The good kind.
The bad kind?
Sweet disposition
I never want to leave.

Downward spirals
Inward explosions
Outward, onward, forward
That's what you tell yourself
There's a way out of the labyrinth
The walls will crumble
And I'll be free.

There used to be a time
When I was ineffably afraid of the darkness.
The beguiling blackness
That seemed to size me up
And consume me whole
I suffered
From an acute fear of the unknown

But I'm a little bigger now
And the darkness beckons
It's the truth that makes me groan
The everyday mundane
The cycle of the known
And now, all I wish for
Is to ride out into the darkness with you
Not to Sunsets
But to a place in the valley
Where everyone can see us
And yet no one can see us
Take me away to the beautiful unknown.

In an unforgiving world
of naysayers
and backstabbers
and depraved liars
and false prayers
where
you have to look around you
before
you can dare to look ahead
in an unforgiving world
where the pitchforks are raised
at the slightest of mistakes
in this unforgiving world
I possess
a poison
far more potent
it's called love.
and darling,
you're not getting any.

Rehashing the rare
Out with the new,
In with the old.
She's always had a thing
For the things that exude
A quirkiness and a bucolic charm
The smell of old books
The black and the white
Good ol' Chaplin, James Dean
And the Sound of Music
The Beatles, a tape recorder
High-waisted pants
And the gramophone
And a rustic old bar
With a gruff bartender
Who's off his rocker
But he'll double up as your therapist
And for the boy with the dark brown eyes
Who looks across the bar at her.
And smiles.
It's all black and white again
Except this time,
It isn't her favourite Casablanca scene
But a white screen
And a thousand particles
Microcosmic
A milieu of
Unfathomable numbers float
Through the atmosphere
Connecting her to him.
And she doesn't want that.
She's always had a thing for the old,
But he makes her doubt that.

the human heart and the human mind
two paradoxical entities, that seem
forever at odds
and yet, for a pair that has
such incontestably opposing objectives
the two are rather similar in their endeavours
to achieve the means
to their respective ends.
they're both searching.
constantly.
and they don't seem to know
what they're looking for.
but the day they stop seeking
is the day the heart will stop beating
and the mind will abandon its working.


raaste alag, manzil ek.

I might be  a little mad
A lot more than a little
But you'll never know it
You'll never see it
Except
If you let me take a peak
At your own madness
Give me a glimpse
Of your delighted delirium
Let me have a look
At your affable aberrations
Your lovely lunacies
And your faithful foolishness
And your foolish faithfulness
Give me a piece of your
Deceitful delusions
And your happy hysteria
And I'll give you a slice
Of my own crazy cake
Balanced with utter unbalance
And dire derangement
And adorable absurdities
And the naked truth
And mad, mad me
Show me your madness
And I'll give you,
Me.

The thing that kills me most
Shattering me from within
Is not the absence of your shield
But this abrupt awareness
Of the awful emptiness
That has now settled into the place
Which hope has just vacated.
I ride out into the colloseum
Battle-clad in armour
Club swinging, sword at the ready
A quiver full of arrows
Just to defend you.
But I will fall at the very first shot
This armour I call my skin
Will be the death of me.
Because the truth is
You were my armour
You were my shield
And then I realised you never were.

Standing at this aperture
I'm trying to bridge the gap
But the more I fixate
The more agonizing the realization
The verity of which
Is slowly washing over me
This is no aperture
It's a cliff
And jumping is not an option.
This is no aperture
It's a bottomless pit
You know you've hit the bottom
When you feel yourself falling
This is no aperture.
You know this.
You want to jump.

Jumping is not an option.