Quarter past 11 is it?
No it's 11:11
Slowly lapsing second by second
With thousands of prayers and wishes being granted and my hope wandering for resurrection.

Quarter past 11 is it?
No it's 11:11
When hybrid eyes void of faces to dance with claim to purport themselves to a mere beguiling satiation but inwardly they're dying to enjoying their guilty pleasures

Quarter past 11 is it?
No it's 11:11
4 minutes have passed says the lady with her watch showing the wrong timing maybe her wish could be traded for someone else's perhaps

Quarter past 11 is it?
No it's 11:11
Look at the clock see the patten four ones two elevens delving deep into souls of millions waiting for their wish to be granted and spreading smiles just how silver dust and bubbles do to the five year old in the backyard  

Quarter past 11 is it?
No it's 11:11
For the artist holding up the thoughts on the silver platter for her ideas assembling in the mind promptly as if a magical spell had been cast on her after she made her last wish

Quarter past 11 is it?
No you missed it but it's 11:12
Maybe the next time you could save a minute to make magic
And I hope tonight at 11:11 the shooting star lights up your night as well.

Times change and people change. Nobody stops for anyone. I'm stuck on the crossroads of my destiny hopelessly wandering and probably overthinking because that's what people do at 2 am in the night. When you gaze at the stars and wonder about everything that will make sense in sometime. It's not just insomnia, it's the desire to make most of every second. It was one of those times when I was stargazing while listening to post rock, trying to figure out how these stars don’t fail to captivate one completely
The desire to create and destroy. Intriguing fallacies blindfolding you are now gone.  It's that time of the day, when conversations are subtle and make so much sense that tomorrow when you wake up and join the rat race you'll remember nothing about this. This is why it remains a dream, exactly why I don't like the fact that the civilisation decided to sleep at night. Why not do something better, do something you want to achieve and begin, begin at night. Why these rules and restrictions, these boundaries caving your musings. These walls enclosing your mind. Think of something beyond this. Explore. The universe is ******* rad. Why work during the day when it is all dull and monotonous, when the sun is shining and you're low, engrossed too much into something you don't actually wish for. The light gives you hope? The darkness gives me company, it gives me peace. The constellations are mystifying. I wish to stay up till 4 am and figure out everything I don't know the answers to. I wish to make every moment a success. Ten years later you'll be living a different life, now you're living a different one. Why waste this night? Time doesn't wait for you, you shouldn't wait for it as well. Wake up.

Afraid of the dark
Afraid of the shadows
Watching from behind
Afraid of the sparrows.

Afraid of the night,
Afraid of the flight.
Hiding behind the curtains,
Afraid of moonlight.

Afraid of the trees,
Afraid of the breeze.
He didnt like his place,
Afraid of the seas.

Afraid of the jaguar,
Afraid to go too far.
Hated the idea of living,
Afraid of the scars.

Afraid of the oceans,
Of the ships sailing by.
Afraid of the sunrise,
Also Afraid of the sky.

Afraid of the drums,
Afraid of the beats.
He told like liked competition but
Afraid to sow the seeds.

Afraid of the cross,
Afraid of the shine.
Hated to boast himself a lot
Afraid of the rhyme.

Afraid of the colours,
Afraid of the rainbow.
Colour blind he wishes he was
Afraid of the world .

Afraid of the melody,
Afraid of the songs.
Broken strings of the guitar,
Afraid of the strong.

Afraid of the screams,
Afraid of the dreams.
Wasn't sure of his abilities,
Afraid of the teams.

Afraid of the paradise,
Afraid to rise.
He wanted death,
Afraid of the lies.

I'm resting beneath an avalanche
With my numb soul burying the cold secrets
The chasms taking in my pain
I'm a poet
I don't wish to be one
I'm resting beneath the avalanche
And my cacology is killing me
These words reaching out to the mountains
Are merely fairytales in this stark reality
I'm resting beneath an avalanche
And I can see the cygnet
With her mother
Moving towards death
And my words cannot help them
My words cannot help my withering self too.

Every inch of my enthusiasm
Seemed to bifurcate into the hypnotic chasms
Considering it to be a cynical manipulation
Made the situation even worse
Every soul around exalted their emotions
And I stood in the corner
Behind a pillar of dramatic fluctuations
Mediocre skills
High hopes
Delusional beliefs
Every thought in my mind seemed to jeopardise my future
All the hypocrites and their sanctimonious talks now were unraveled
I wondered why my ingenuity was being tested
I died wondering why the chaos in my mind was stopping me from living.

The regrets and
Decisions seem to
Be coming my way
They're mocking at me
For being ignorant
Those times
When I couldn't prioritise
Anything
This time when I wouldn't
Let anything go
This time when I
Want things to be fair
That last time
When I did nothing
All I could do
Was stand and stare
That last minute conversation
With the fever raging high
Those few words spoken
Those unbearable cries
There's a time when
I don't know
What I'm gonna do
I want to dwell in the past
There are no decisions I've taken
My reasoning capability
Soared down
And I cannot
Accept the reality
I can't stand things right now
I can't believe it's happening
It's coming to an end
There are no decisions I've taken
It's coming to an end
It's over.

I would
Rather 
Go unnoticed 
Behind
Those 
Five thousand 

Pine trees 

Looking for 
A little corner 

To understand 
My dreams
and resurrect

My soul 

In search of the right 
Words but

My mind 

Wants the fulfilment 

Of a million 

Vague unattended thoughts 

And doesn’t stop

Wandering 

From one dimension 

To another.

You'd find me
By the riverside
Moving along with the moon
Staring at those
Celestial bodies
Which seem to
Deport me to
An unknown place
Where I belong
Where I should be
The Orion looking down upon me
While I travel
Back in time
And confabulate
With pagan
Question the existence of
Humans
And denounce the
World as a farce
Create a different place
With only those
Animals sacred to Apollo
Those swans and ravens
And Cicadas
And remain.

There's no keynote
Or some particular issue
In my mind
It's just the void
Trying to fit in
There is no predicament
Its just these words
Trying to find space
Provocatively engaging my mind
To work on something
That ought to be done
Like it's some imperative assignment
Just these consonants
Camouflaging and slaughtering
That empty space
These characters from one
To twenty six
Continually withering
In search of a place
With Some connotation.

No words could be spoken
Wrapped around in a beret
Nothing could be sensed
Cats lay torpid
He jingled the coins in his pocket
There's not much he had
There was nothing he spoke
A cold wall of dissociative amnesia
A blustery day
Driving all those fears
Into the wild
Covering all those scars
With ice cakes.

I fell behind your backyard
Frenzied branches feathered leaves
Blowing past my inner soul
An abrupt epiphany
Your thoughts castellated
My body is trembling
I finished the last bottle of wine
Before your clairvoyant poetry came to my notice
You're invisible
But this scrap of paper lies in my hand
Clandestinely I continue to read it
You search furiously
For the cold secrets of your modesty now are exposed
Your pretentious nature is now revealed
You pen down what you think
I wait, I'm trying to regain consciousness
Weeks later your demise, the denouement
Saddens me, I'm sorry I was not sober
I made a mistake.

Bipolar
There’s this label 

Which moves everywhere
with her 
Now and then 

Distracting people

And 
Making her life miserable

Because they think

It’s something different 

She’s something different 

There has been a breakdown
She’s mentally sick 

But do you listen to her soul 

Asking people

If they’re not different 

From one another 

Or are they not

Allowed to express themselves  

Everybody is different 

And they prove their existence

In their own ways

She has to behave

As if she has something 

On her conscience 

Something lurks every second 

In the corner of her mind 

With a sublime confidence 

Of acceptance 
But
Anhedonia comes alive with the words coming

Out one by one or rather 

All at once 

Incomprehensibly prefect 

But this label 

Those pills

That prescription 

Only swallows her

From within.

You've been wondering that you've got
No tiny false extraction point
A deluded perception of reality
Blood flowing round the corner of the streets

There's a creeping centralisation of power
And a hoarse whisper in your ears
It's time for your magnanimous self
To let the ego drain away

A thousand battles and memoirs
Those anecdotes you never read
They're the fables of your life
Hinging upon a soft limerick

And now when you try to
Juxtapose those thoughts in your mind
The imbecile beings around
Whitewash your victory and demise.

I wish I could guide
these caged words
be able to maneveour them
let them drift apart
towards the seamless light of the night towards the oceans of elixir

I wish I could set free
the taste of the bittersweet memories
without causing any harm to my conscience
without letting the uncertainties
affect my psyche

I wish I could join and tear
Cry and fear
Laugh and rejoice at the same things
Dance to those songs and cry to them
Settle and destruct
Without bluffing with my soul.

Walking on a bridge
I try to remember
All those moments
Of unharmed silences
And petrifying darkness
Savouring our situations
Conquering the world
Making false promises
I spilled water
On your paintings
Smudging charcoal on
All those letters you gave
I feel a fire
The answers are disappearing
One by one
The questions forever
Entangle me
On the crossroads of my existence .

12:39 a.m
At first I was trying
To make it rhyme
With no reason
Pushing them together
Those words
Those meanings
Drifting apart
One by one
I made everything
Sound spurious
Pretentious
Fabricated.

12:41 a.m
Two minutes later
I realized
There's no complication
It's me
Who's the stonewall
Preventing those
Words
From making sense
Creating a rumpus
An unnecessary altercation
Casting cement for my own bridges.
It was illegitimate.

2:41 a.m
Two hours later
I understood the power of words
I proposed an adamantine will
Purported to it  
Maybe
But things were now clear
I wasn't lying to myself
I sounded reasonably correct
In my mind
Unconsciously pondering
Consciously oblivious.

1st January,2017
Now, it has been years
It was me who acted like a can of worms  
All these years
Now it goes with the flow
It's difficult to tread the boards
Now my words
Are prepotent
Adequate
I stopped rhyming
Now the arrow hit the spot.

I Wished
My thoughts
Lived up with
My words
And my creativity
Ably Portrayed
Itself on
The canvas
And the conversations
Made sense
To those people
Drifting away
But
Nobody knows
what they are
looking for
And right
nothing
makes sense to me
For I don’t know
Which path may lead
To the place I want
To go
Bur most importantly
I dont know
What I want
To see.
what
I want to be.

Her existence is a paradox
For even the buffoons seem to be mocking at her
Her power lies divided
Fixed on a candelabra
With men in the churches gazing at the strength
And old ladies lighting it for solace
The wax melts and the world is plunged into darkness
Tendrils of smoke drifting upwards
Shapeless silhouettes driving people towards the end
The dome of the hall covered with embodiments of its remains
The chandelier soaking the suffocation amidst
And still in the hands of that artist in the corner
With a palette in the right and swollen fingers holding the brush
Lies a hope of resurrection of the dainty lady's grace
But only In the painting and the caricatures.

I used to be a writer once
Now I stare at blank pages
Cursing my insanity
Looking for my muse she's lost
Roaming about the streets in mismatched socks.

I used to be a dreamer once
Before the accident turned me blind
Now I see blurred visions
Of the demons in my head
Now I sleep at night, I sleep throughout the year.

I used to be an ailurophile
Before curiosity killed the cat
Trips of imagination were games that we played
Before it crossed the path of a million souls
They stopped, dreaming, talking, living.

I used to be human
Before I lost faith in mankind
I was drunk and so the mishap occurred
I killed my cat
I stopped writing was why I couldn't write.

One flick of the match
And you lit up
To destroy the evenness
Of her functioning

Burning on one end
Glowing ember
Self destructing yourself
As well as her minutes

She quickly exhales
You slither through
The veins and her lungs
Clasping her blood
Her eyes being the reflector of the sins

Everyday those twenty bucks
Distributed in innumerable spaces
For preparation of Her funeral
For the ashes in the vase.

You're the one
With the loneliness
Pierced into the subliming anger
Rosen dermis
Time passed
Pale lavender
Like a broken dream
Unearthing itself from the exasperated soul
Within yourself
You're flowing like a river
Flooded with dead salmon
Hurt by the pressure of
Those million dreams
Of reaching the sky
Purporting to be fine
You're the imposter of the highest caliber.

I've been having hallucinations
They're like a requiem for those tales
They were left untold
Now I yearn for their demise
I want them to be shouted
Across those three buildings I spent most of my life in
Those enclosed confined cremated layers
Tangled and shattered
I want it to be told
And removed From the memory of those worthless souls
The exposure of the darkness
Blackening as time collapses
I want my weary spirit to thaw out my aching limbs
And each tale to disappear in the haze

There’s so much more 
I could do.

If I could 

Scatter the seconds 

Like the grains of sand.

If the minutes would pass 

Like a ray of light

Passing through a prism

Breaking into 

Those seven colours

Lighting every corner. 

If I could 

Multiply the hours 

With the innumerable 

Thoughts in my mind .

And calculate

To find

I still haven’t got enough

I still need time

You're the dealer
Who stole my possessions
You stood behind that red cupboard
And basked in your glory
You injected the venom
With a slight grin on your face
Purporting to be a master of your words
Incorrigibly lying beneath the rock
You're afraid of being revealed
Your alibi is kept track of
With smoke curling round the corner of your sleeves
Blood dripping down those poisoned ivy vines
You're hiding beneath the tunnel
Making your voice seem approachable
Trying to wind those other people
Into your farcical world
You're presumably sagacious but
You're corrupt.

Millions of men with matchsticks
Brought their heads to
The oceans of kerosene
******* forged their existence
And they weren't able to retaliate
Thousand whispers of desire
Of living a peaceful life
Echoed among the mountains
And between the valley of death
Days were enumerated and artifacts collected
The stories seemed to be a passage full of euphemisms
A dystopian atmosphere took over their utopian views
The matchstick was struck
And humanity collapsed.

In search
of answers
to the questions
consuming my
soul I found
a strange light
which
disappeared with time
while the wind kept
blowing
the people kept
talking
I kept killing myself
with the thought of denial
with the sheer acceptance of
the inevitable
with a grave symbolism
with portrayal of sheer modesty
I kept numbering those letters
written by the blood
my body couldn't keep with itself
I'm about to get away
from all the sorrows
my placard says
''Greet my saviours with modesty''
I've died a thousand times.

Two white strings
Entangled and Astray
Finding a way
In The rose pink light of dawn.  

In the pink light of dawn
The cicadas venturing
Into a new place
For a new journey

For a new journey
A hundred birds migrate
Away from the clamour
Where the sun rays lighten the soul

Where the sun rays lighten the soul
The shadows prove to be farce
As night time descends
The world comes to an end.

She stood
In the middle of a storm
The ocean floor slipped from
Beneath her feet
The waves let out a howl of anguish
She stood there
Imperatively  
Helplessly begging for clemency  
The water touched the rocks
And moved away
Tides were high
Moon was involved in a surreptitious affair
The passerby ignored her
With uttermost ingenuity
He knew
she was the bone of contention
Of the evil
She was an illusion
She spun the web and caught her prey
He knew the tales of the people
Who had
developed an infatuation with her
Together she commemorated the
Death of all those imbecile beings
Every minute
Gravity pulled towards her
A different kind of person
A different soul
Every minute destructed itself
Whatever was left  
was summoned to her with a grin.

Day after day
I kept on
Stacking those phrases
And I created a different
Glossary In my mind
Of unwarranted thoughts
Floating in some other place
Seeking attention
Being ignored
Wailing for approval
Rejected innumerably
Creating a hassle in my mind
A fracas among those letters
Causing dementia
But it's me myself
The bone of contention
Of these unattended
Lies.

It's corrupting my soul
And emitting words
Like radiations from a forgotten planet
They had been soiled
Earthed to the ground
But the liquor makes my tongue languid
And pertinently corrupt
I've sent a few messages
They're undeniable
They'll not only disappear like smoke in the haze
They will make me choke on my tongue
They'll leave me intoxicated
Crush your expectations
Certainly.

She’s looking up,
At the constellations,
And trying to make sense,
And trying to discern something .

Those stars,
They’re looking down upon her,
Thinking how easy it is to fool her,
How easy it is to help someone in being preoccupied all night,
How all the random thoughts take perfect place in the witching hour,
How overthinking makes her brain dysfunctional but she has to live with it,
Everyday,
Inadvertently,
she forgets the kind of place this is.
Here,
The ones who try, suffer
The ones who don’t, suffer.
This place favours nobody
Every second, it is eating you up.

On the crest of the wave I decided to sit down at my  14 year old escritoire

On the advent of spring I decided to
Fill up the moats in my backyard  

The quill in between my fingers commemorating the fall of the mighty empires when I was actually rubbernecking the flowers I filled up the ditches with.

Two universes in my mind helpings shape intricate designs and the inkwell acts as a magnet attracting my soul to get lost within these paradoxes

If I walk towards the palaces the kings will ask me to extemporise tricks of which are on my finger tips

If I walk towards the patio I will fall into the area next to it and be buried beneath the flowers

Met with an accident 20 years ago when I was thinking of neologisms
when I was thinking of atypical aphorisms
when I was lost in between the metaphors.

With every beckoning move
My power self destructed
I stood among the audience
With no outrageous opinions
I performed as a harlequin
Trying to dulcify my motives
My torn pockets spilling sand
The baptism of fire
They said they were comrades
But at that moment
They enunciated
My defeat
Strenuously.
I'm tired of seeing the wall break
My cigarette stained hands yearn for demise

It's the darkened smoke
Glowing over that dark ember skin
The cameras couldn't capture
The pain inflicted upon her brain
A cold facade
Opinions juxtaposed within
Leaving no place for self realisation
Some fine lines of distinction
Between the past and the present
Now became the epitome of her neediness
Segment by segment
Staggering through the walls
Intoxicating itself
Unfolding the crass sensitivities
To the unbothered beings
Lying beside the deadened fireplace
With a book in her hand
Stuck on the prologue
In Spite of knowing the story
The characters have been delusional
The plot was not pragmatic
But she still lies watching the burning fire
With the hope of resurrection
In the parallel world
She's smiling away

Beginning to remember
How it had just started
Now it's gone
I was gone for two weeks
And the river is now frozen
It was an inchoate group
Laying the bricks
One by one
But they departed so soon
Like the ignoramus men on the sidewalks
Herding like sheep to make a living
Like some old fat lady sitting by her children
With a half filled cup of happiness
Afraid of losing herself
Like those water drops on cold winter mornings
Forcing life to stay torpid
Pragmatism collapsed into my veins and
I heard the cat door slam and immediately looked at the clock
It was dead

A blank canvas.
A vacant room.
A Cogitative mind.
Extraordinary Imagination.
But,
Fear of Criticism.
Lost

Rather,
Defeated.

And the conversation was just a call away

But who’d explain
what she said 

Who knew how things work 

Nobody has got the answers 

Nobody knows 

They just pretend.

Movement of impatience. 

Erroneous steps. 

Irrelevant arguments. 

False accusations. 

Sadistic approaches. 

Self centred minds. 

Disgust.
Nobody lives
They just exist.

The fairy tales
And the horrendous stories
The fear in your soul
Also the philanthropists' empathy
Nothing works here
Nothing remains.

Strings of conversations
Awestruck
By the way you hypnotise
The world
By your
Innumerable lies
Nobody speaks the truth
The world is a farce

Every minute 

I move forward
and backward 

Feel elated and dejected 

At the same time

From both ends of the world

I retrograde 

Explicitly consign into oblivion

Those marred thoughts 

I introspect 

And question 

My beliefs and it’s pros and cons 

Then backward 

I run counter to 

Those thoughts 

I agree to it 

And purport to be satiated 

There’s a lapse of time 

And I’m forgotten 

Or maybe I forget 

I run 
Here and there 

Incorrigibly perfect 

Like those fake palindromes 

Among those assertive 

Words.

I walk by the moon
Writing a threnody
Of the ubiquitous sublimed anger
Of the unkempt souls
My words are passing on
From one line to another
These phases are scattered
Like dandelion seeds
The zephyr diverting my attention
A pleasantly small plethora of emotions
Over flowing
With the tide
My mind ebbing to drown away
Like a sycophant
Unconsciously corrupted.

It's cold
And my words
Are flowing away
Like dandelion seeds
Into the fields
The vast green meadows
Abruptly
And the questions
In my mind
Are now scattered
Like star dust
Among the audience
But I stand like
A harlequin
With my body numb
And my dying soul
Trying to resurrect itself
And my warbling fate
Longing to take a turn.

You were like the pieces of
A jigsaw
I claimed you when
I was a toddler
Every evening we stood in
The backyard and hid from the
Pigeons
Every night we laid on the grasses
And counted the stars

My hands are shivering now
And I'm too **** old for any reconciliation
My will has flown
And to this impetuous wind
It surely has blown
You're writing these verses
With your blood stained fingers
I'm trying to forget
Every word I said.

Back in the second grade you
Gave me roses and I thought
We're beginning to collapse
And build this new dome of love
But the meanings and emotions
At this very tender age
Knew no bounds
Crept away
Kept on moving endlessly
Like those horizontal lines you drew
In my notebook
I still have those pages
Buried them with you
Kept them with my soul.

Today when I stand on the bridge
The bridge where your car collapsed
There's an eerie silence
There's a horizontal cross
An immeasurable distance
That can never be crossed.
I watch as every alphabet on that letter
Gravitates towards the floor
And my hands, my blood stained fingers recall that night you were murdered
That's what you told.

Someday the lies we say, consume us.
Someday this demise will become an old tale.
The truth with stay with me
Vertically hitched.

Lying down on the bed
Motionless
Thoughtless
I'm ringing the doorbell
He's watching from a distance
Merely watching
I'll walk back to the car
And drive past the sycamore
The trees, they were your favourites
The dead ones probably burnt by those firemen
Now there are no trees, there are buildings
There's a cemetery
There's a dead body in the cemetery without trees
The soul is your sisters'
The sister who was killed with knife I was looking for yesterday
I was looking for that knife
But you found it
You found it beneath the candles wax
Wax that melted when your sister killed herself
You scraped of every bit and took out the knife
And killed yourself
He lies motionless
Thoughtless
At a distance
I keep ringing the doorbell.

It was my
favourite puzzle
And the best time of
The day
More of pretence
Or actual happiness
Was something
Which couldn't be figured
Lying to self
Caused harm
Truth was even bitter
I was trying to
Stay awake
And arrange those
Pieces
I felt a strong
Disinclination
And wanted to
Battle it out
I looked at the illustrations
And stood flabbergasted
Nothing made sense
I had to be
cognisant of
Those boundaries
And keep my self
Wrapped up
There was a piece
Lying by my side
Which wasn't a part of
The puzzle
It was just
An infatuation.

Put down the conversations
You overheard in the taxicab
Engrave the clauses
A shadow falls over the morbid epiphanies.

Draw life into these lines
Tessellated ,Portray your potential
Efface the curse from within yourself
The fire on cold winter nights spreading all around

The truth is a secret
The farce guides the mortals
The leftover part is a reverie
Eyes wide open, white light blinding the soul

Railroad tracks of broken dreams and thoughts
The journey is incomplete
Reality cringes into the pleasant daydreams
I'm still eavesdropping the conversation of the dead.

The train passes from over my soul.
The trees echo my dreadful silence.

If the power lies within
I will reconcile myself and make it believe
That the truth is indestructible
And those chasing pavements have found their ways

If the truth is indestructible
I will fight for my life
Utopianism will become a model of nothingness
I will cross the boundaries

If I fight for my life
I will beguile some time by living for myself
And be oblivious to all those worldly claims
Live for people encumbered with debts

If I live for people encumbered with debts
I will monopolise the crass ingenues
And help them overshadow the mighty
I will be immune to the white lies and .