I believe it was a Tuesday morning!
I remember I had a reason to wake up -
To squeeze the last bit of toothpaste
from the tube.
To get right back in the ******* loop.

I believe I caught a glimpse of a child
Through the foggy bathroom mirror,
laced with my minty breath.
It felt strange...
I took offense at his looks,
the way he eyed me down.
In his defense though,
I had caught him with his guards down.

He didn't say much,
not that he did anyway.
Just nodded softly at me,
whispered almost,
'Alright! Guess I'll be going then...'
With a flicker of a smile
never to be seen again.

I believed at the time it was best for him
To not see the light on my face go dim
Didn't realize then I'd pay such a solemn price;
As I let him go, not thinking twice.

I believe it came quite naturally to me -
Finding good reasons not to be.
That day, I found yet another;
It was just enough to help me see -
The error of my ways...
Like a rat in a maze, how I end up
reliving the worst of my days.

I still believe I could turn things around.
Give the kid a reason to be proud.
I'd whisper softly into the foggy bathroom mirror,
'We're Ok, little buddy...
Everything's going to be Ok!'
I believe I could get him to say,
'Alright... I'll stay!'

बड़े होते बस यही सुना था,
‘कुछ सोच बड़ा, कुछ कर बड़ा।’
काँटों भरी इस राह पर मैं नंगे पाँव ही निकल पड़ा।
बहुत निचोड़ा इन भावों को मैंने,
इस खोज में मैंने बहुत सहा।
पर जो दिल से चाहिए, साला आखिर वो मिलता कहाँ!

एक शैतान है मुझमें, जो रोज़ कहता है,
‘छोड़ दे पैशन, कमा ले पैसे।’
‘कला के इस महासागर में डूब मरे हैं तेरे जैसे।’
मानता कहाँ दिल फिर भी मेरा?
ये तो है उसके लिए साँस की तरह!
अब चाहे डूब कर मरे या हो जाए जल कर राख,
इससे दुनिया का क्या लेना-देना?
अपनी लड़ाई भी तो यारो, आखिर खुद से ही थी ना?

कलम की नोक पर ज़िंदगी का भार
उठाते कलाईयाँ रगड़ गईं।
ग़रीबी में आटा गीला था,
आँसुओं से बात और बिगड़ ही गई।
चलो कोई नहीं, मैं भी मान गया!
गिले-शिकवों को पेपरवेट के नीचे दबा गया।
स्याही की कड़वी स्वाद को होठों से लगा गया।
मूंगफली पड़ी थी, उसे रोटी के बीच डाल कर चबा गया।

खोज रहा हूँ आज भी मैं विचारों की वो वर्णमाला,
सहारे जिसके कह सकूँ जो इतने दिन मैंने टाला।

तितर-बितर करते, इधर-उधर भागते,
थोड़ा भटक सा गया हूँ…
बंद घड़ी की सुई की तरह मानो जैसे अटक सा गया हूँ।
वक्त के आगे अपनी क़िस्मत लिखने को जूझ रहा हूँ।
अल्फ़ाज़ों से सजे इस दर्पण को
मैं आपकी ओर रख कर पूछ रहा हूँ…

‘क्या आपको पता है गौरव का फूल किस चोटी पर खिलता है?’
‘ज़िंदगी में जो चाहिए, साला आखिर वो कहाँ मिलता है?’

At first
My abuser dresses like a prince on a white horse
Speaks like a true gentleman
And keeps tabs on all my fears and discomforts
'cause he "cares"

Than
He smiles for the camera while twisting my arm under the table
He means "well"
He convinces me that my pale and expressionless face is more beautiful than ever

In the end
For a good while I confuse my weakened heartbeat and the numbness running through my veins for the "calmness"

But than
In the pitch black of the reality
I see a diminishing flame flickering inside me
In its light
My dreary reflection reassembles a way out

I don't know how you do it
It's like you can read my mind
Even in those days when I feel
My head is as busy as time square in the middle of a beautiful summer night

He lost his way, he knows not when.
Chasing false idols he mistook for men.
He'd lose the child, if he only knew then -
He'd find a way to be a man again.

The Blue Jacaranda

I don't wish to make a home in you
or hold on to your heart
like a fragile Autumn leaf
but sit with you under
the blue Jacaranda
and breathe your lavender deep
recalling those dreams you did dwell.
A stranger but more familiar
from some other sphere.
Under the blue Jacaranda
hold my hands with no promises made.
For a while, let me believe
you're still not a dream.

The afternoon sun opens the day
wiping the morning mist from the sky.
A robin sits on a mossy wall
overlooking the glistening valley,
basking its little chest.
I speak to it,
words gentle, soft and kind.
It looks at me,
a gaze curious, yet knowing,
seeming quiet at its best.
Suddenly, with a song
it takes to the sky,
where old memories lie,
before its ancestors sang,
the caged bird's song.

Here's another chapter,
Something I've already read.

The sentences are strewn together,
And I'm in my head.

Give me a new perspective,
'Cause something inside me
is dead.

Didn't mean to upset you,
But sometimes,

I wish you'd f*ck off,
instead.

Always a new superstition,
Believing something
that doesn't exist.

Always a new problem,
I've never seen someone
so stressed.

Maybe you're delusional,
But it's not relatable.

Your words make no sense,
And always you're oh so
intense.

Instead of going on,
I'm closing this chapter
instead.

In distant silence, an ache lingers like a forgotten song,
a haunting melody that echoes through
the hollows of an empty home.

Each separation,
a poignant note in the music of longing.
The desire to convey the depth of absence becomes restrained vulnerability where a heart yearns for more than routine inquiries—
a connection that transcends the ordinary.

Yet, in the vast expanse,
the unspoken lingers as a melancholic language,
a narrative of desire and restraint.

Frustration emerges from unmet desires,
a delicate dance where the fear of vulnerability clashes
with the yearning for profound connection.

Silently, the heart navigates the surface,
resisting the urge to delve into the intricacies of emotions.

Now, a choice is made to reveal little,
to traverse the silence with a delicate grace,
as the unexpressed yearns to be heard in the still expanse.

I hear you
I hear you so well
Here I am having a full life
Yet dreading the day to be
Dreaming dreams not to be
Dancing at the will of the dread
Wishing wishes ought not to be
I want the set, reset
You so gracefully
Flipped
Yet again, wishing
Wistful