Random thought.

This takes time,

It’s not fast in pace,

Rather steady like the ocean waves,

Yes they get violent, are tranquil at times too

But they never lose their pace

They keep moving on,

never lay still at one place.

Maybe healing works in similar ways?

Poem 55#



I dont wanna write anymore,
Was this destined in my palm too?
My palm has so many broken lines,
Reminds me of the geometry figure I couldn’t draw even after multiple trials,
Alas in the end, the creased paper had multiple broken lines, they were invisible to the naked eye,
But for me, I could see, my failure tangled like the spiders web.
And oh my maths teacher, she often gave me a zero out of 25.

I don’t enjoy my daily coffee too,
It tastes bland, maybe 3 tsp isnt strong?
Maa tells me this coffee is making me senile,
Or maybe it’s your phone, that’s making you mad! She says.
Maybe she is right,
I’m stuck with this phone like the lover to its rose,
It’s the first thing I have in my hand and the last thing I check before I sleep.

How much are you sleeping nowadays shibu!? Maa questions me for the millionth time,
Are you even paying attention to what I’m saying?? I nodd, but she walks away
I dont sleep, really, just lie down on my unmade bed, lie with my warm blanket shielding me away from the ghosts of the past,
But they find an abode through the space I leave off below my cold feet,

Did I do enough today? I question myself
But all I hear is the last local honking in the background,
There is no sign of moon today,
I see a bat hanging upside down the almond tree infront of my window pane,
He swings so peacefully and silently rests by the other birds who usually attack him in day.

Bhai then blabbers in his sleep,
Something about his work, how he has to reach the intended goal for the month,
He then nods his head and tilts to other side of the bed,

Shibu dont you wanna sleep?” Dad’s hoarse voice alerts me away,

Yes, i will now”  the cold floor really feels weird during winter days,
With a quick look at the grey skies, I escalate towards my bed.

Goodnight dad” I mumble,

He ignores my words, as he sits by the window pane.

Poem 54#

•••••
It was a usual day,
With the moon shining by the purple skies,
Maa smiling with me, resting by the window pane,

‘The moon is more closer if you see, my dandelion”

“How, maa?” It’s so far away, like papa!!”

“It is right in here”
Her cold fingers quivered under the night, took my little ones and rested them on my heart,

“Now close your eyes” she said,

“But if I close them, how will I see my moon!!”

“Oh you silly girl, your innocent eyes cannot capture infinity, for that you need the vision of your heart”

she then giggled,
like a naive child
Under the moon’s radiant light,
her eyes gleamed with delight,
she beamed like the full moon

And in that moment, I realised maa had lied,
Maybe eyes could capture infinity

••••••
Later that night,
She fed me dried raisins and stale roti,
Then a glass of salty milk,
Tear stained, her lips were sealed,
Silently, I swallowed it in.

She ignited the oil lamp,hollow and dark.
Her rhuemey eyes had lost its shine,
Small and dim, the light,
it was empty inside.

She told me stories about the moon,
told me how i must act strong from henceforth,
Later hummed “tujhse naraaz nahi zindagi” until I fell asleep in her arms
But during that warm tranquil night,
I felt her cold lips kiss my hair,

“Goodbye, my dandelion, stay strong,
Mama will miss you”
•••••••

The letter was hidden behind papa’s razor box,
the paper had many cuts,
many words scribbled too.
Blobs of blood and tear stained,
The black ink echoed this way:

‘Maa won’t be back soon, my child,
Just rest your eyes and don’t miss
her tonight,
For she is going very far, close to the moon

The stars shall tell you, it’ll be soon.
She loves you, stay strong, my child.
She never wanted to say goodbye,
But this is how everything will be fine.

-The moon will remember you, my little dandelion.

Random thought (3)

We’re all bold,

We’re all shy,

We’re all dull and boring

We are dynamic at times,

We’re all happy,

We’re all sad people living a colossal lie

It depends on the day, that moment “that time”

For sane individuals to ruin their perfect lives.

Is it okay to be like this?

Do we fall in love with how the person actually is? Or the idea of them we have inside our brain,

We love to romanticize their dull eyes, their scam smiles and their honey dripped lies.

And oxytocin supports our beliefs overtime, the hugs feels heavenly, the kiss seems like a delight.

Their normal expressions seem so special, “the love drug” keeps playing tricks on our mind

Then we slowly start imagining scenarios in which they have married us and we are living a “happily ever after life”

But alas, infatuation or lust is temporary, most of the times,

You become obsessed with them, like an addict, you’re drawn to their presence and keep pestering them all the time,

Asking them about their whereabouts, feel insecure, jealous, feel that pit in the stomach when they dont give you importance,

You wish to keep them happy, no matter what, never wish to go against them, wish to be by their side, even though it hinders your self esteem all the time.

Until one day they tell you,

dont contact me ever again”

And you realise, that infatuation played you well

You’re heartbroken, you feel this is the end of life,

When in reality, it’s not.

For now is the time you shine,

You give yourself the love and importance you deserved all the time.❣

Lust and love ( edited version)

**Lusty lies, beautiful smiles**

You’d find an abode in those tempestuous eyes,
those oh so perfect smiles, everything they do just seems so vague yet perfectly fine,

Some call it that wish for which they often prayed,
Oh! Look my wish was granted away.
I found the one, my happy place.

But for some pessimists like me,
Lust works like the poison that freezes the tarantula away,
Have you heard about that naive wasp that preys on those gloomy tarantulas by the bay?
This gloomy spider means it no harm, it runs away from the shadow of wasp,
But the wasp has her eyes fixed on its prey,
Her poisonous sting, paralyzes the spider away,
It cant think, nor move, it’s the wasp’s personal play.

Lust works on similar ways,
You’re paralyzed by their beauty and their face,
By their expressive eyes, their notorious self,
They are so brilliant in everything they do,
How could a person relaxing in his pajamas and unmade hair look so cute?

Being with them would make you forget everything else in life,
You’d read articles related to them talk to your friends and ask them for their views,
Take his side and convince your friends too,
You’d slowly start adapting his ways, so quick,
You’d expect the same energy from him too.

Every time you’d meet him,you would observe him a bit more closely,
The way he talks so calmly, the way he folds his arms together and gently frowns, the way he runs his fingers alongside his hair,
The way his hazel eyes shine with glee,
His peculiar beard trimmed in 90’s style.

His presence would make your day,
you’d ache to be in his arms
and wish to kiss him once again, you’d plan your next meet,
the things you’d say,
the dress you’d wear, the way you’d make your hair,
his favourite color would be yours too,everything should be perfect, for our adonis is just that way.

You’d fnd different ways to text him
(or accidentally text him? :p)
send him memes, flood him with questions new,
would expect his attention right away,
what if he forgets to text you day? Was he busy? Is he seeing someone new?
Let’s watch his story on Instagram or maybe snapchat today??

Lust and love ( part 1)

Lust is like that warm orange singlet top that makes me feel great,

I wear it during times I feel bold or wish to have some fun at my own stake,

Its quite new, still has that ambiguous David off cool water smell,

But love is that rouge pink tshirt of mine, which makes me feel cozy and warm,

I wear it on stormy days and wintry nights, it has accompanied me since the past 3 years,

No matter much I wash it away, it still makes me feel safe.


I am no master in love, I’d say, havent experienced it at all,

But lust? The desireful eyes, those oh so perfect smiles, my poetries revolve around those tales.

Maybe lust is what we confuse for love nowadays,

Their glistening eyes seem lovely to you,you’d catch them checking you out, they smile off and find different ways to accidentally touch you,

They’d tease you and make you laugh, their jokes would be so funny you’d laugh your eyes out, you’ve never felt this happy ever in life,

The way the talk the way he folds his arms together and gently frowns, the way he runs his fingers alongside his hair would make the butterflies in your stomach reach ashore,

His presence would make your day, you’d ache to be in his arms and wish to kiss him once again, you’d plan your next meet, the things you’d say, the things he’d end up doing,oh, everything should be perfect that way, for our adonis is just that way.

You’d fnd different ways to text him, ( or accidentally text him or call him either ways) send him memes, flood him with questions new, would expectt his attention right away, what if he forgets to text you day? Was he busy? Is he seeing someone new today? Let’s stalk him on insta or maybe snapchat today??

And every time you’d meet them, you’d feel jittery, it would be the first time again, you’d feel jittery, you’d get dumbfounded, act nervously and fumble on your own words,

For hey, they seem so perfect( to you) dont they?

Could they be the one?

To the incomplete feelings of mine,

-August 2020.