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Category Archives: Musings

fading time clockpunchers of IT

Clock Punchers of IT

They would rise in unison, walk around like ghosts and would fall into their chairs as if controlled by a remote. Their big hopeless eyes would stoop with them in their dullness. Their bleak lashes would then flap occasionally to reveal more dead inside –

image for broken people

Broken People

We are the broken people. The fallen souls. The shattered hearts. The twisted, constricted echoes of a hollow body. We don’t make a sound. We croon. We weep. We are always crying, fading away gradually from the inside. Our angst nibbles us every moment. It

that dreamy snare image painting

That Dreamy Snare

From the deepest alcoves of my mind, you somehow always make it back. This time so powerful! Appearing like a memory so strong that it was hard to shake you off. Another dream like a bazillion others, I wish you would never come back. But

Bruno Catalano Missing Piece

The Missing Piece

I miss everything about you. All it takes is one glimpse, and I melt away like a candle. I can distinctly hear that silent noise of defeat as my heart’s warmth eats me up. I can put a finger to that feeling, I surmise –

My Me Time Photography

My Me Time

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

image for the post The Future Me

The Future Me

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

image for withering pages of love

Withering Pages of Love

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.

image for a world of dreamers

A World of Dreamers

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 –

image of telling letters

Telling Letters from the Dorm

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