There isn’t a body around me. No one I could call mine. No one who could call me his. Seems everything is crouching away from me, cringing its claws into the hollows of self-absorption. I have seen people do that. Forget you! Like you never
I’ve seen you so many times now. I am losing track. Your memories are getting stronger. Instead of getting hazy, they are going conspicuous. Very unusual but I’ve forgotten everything bad about you now. Love does that to you, I guess. Yesterday I had a
It is in these moments I feel kind of empty, when I sit with my laptop and feed my fingers the stiff of the keys, when I have nothing to do, and no clue what to type. There is nothing going on. But I still
I can’t forget one particular day in my life. A chapter in my leaflet that made me immensely gloomy when I was quite young. This was way before I was introduced to the concept of love. It holds a special place in my heart because
I wish to peek a glance into my future. The clouded timeline that patiently waits ahead. I wonder what it has got in store for me. Does all my backbreaking struggle really pay off? I wonder if the “future me” thanks me enough for building
This is my hour. My moment. When the world goes numb in misery, I wake up to tell stories of grief. They are the sad kinds, ones that are bound to leave imprints upon dried cheeks. This is my time. I croon and rant it away.
I woke up with a start. Images from my dream, still fresh, wizened gradually like mist, as I came to my senses. “Hadn’t I witnessed an accident? Wasn’t I driving? Where was I?” Those memories began to fade as I looked up at the clock.
Showing up at weird intervals of time, my deferred dreams flicker akin a broken light. Some dreamer does that to me. When I forget that I am a dreamer too, out of nowhere comes along something or someone with a dream to tell me –
Songs of a Ruin stays immensely hallowed in my head. The reason being, every time I sat to jot a poem, it always reflected my purest form of emotion. I would be drenched completely in my thoughts, feeling every morsel of pain, love, despair and the
Sometimes I think every failure we encounter is nature’s way of warning us, its way of adjusting us, putting us on the scanner once again till we find a better path. Maybe where we were headed in the first place wasn’t supposed to be our