the shy colors of a dried plant by my window
withering away with the changing seasons
swaying in a blow of breeze nevertheless
while being perfectly dead, an art in itself
the iron rust around corners of the sill and
a high-pitched stutter of machine from outside
the cawing of crows in my neighborhood and
a broken mailbox standing alone but almost alive
still didn’t make for a situation more hideous
than mine on a friday afternoon singing along
to a tune of typical ache familiar to downing a shot
coincidentally enough, a shot or 5 were included too
with a top up of exactly five beers for breakfast
rather than my steaming hot cup of brew
appareling stopped making sense a week back
dwelling in the same comforting coal black
it was either the beauty sleep or solitary indulgence
and nothing quite in between
the existence of my ruins was speaking volume
in languages i hadn’t learned
screaming to be discarded by peeling layers off my skin
puking the old feelings out to consume healthy again
gagging on the tastelessness of past tales like a sin
what had become of me?
when did i go so down the hill?
to only ever feel remnants of yesteryears
nagging on me, biting on my brains and
in no way feeding my present
but boy does it feel like home
when the old habits die hard
either out of love or sheer resentment

Evermore, Ever Mine

To the song that has me imprisoned in love and is often my only escape from world,

you touch me slow, kiss my hollow breaths
placing a finger right where it hurts
aching the life out of me, but for what it’s worth
your whispers grow on me ever so softly
yearning for more, i scream and beg and wallow

mere din khushi se jhoome, gaayein raatein
pal pal mujhe dubaayein jaate jaate

you make me shed rivers of joy & laugh at my misery
like it’s a plan all along to have me visit bitter-sweet memory
wouldn’t you rather knife my gut like a decent killer?
the unforgiving ways have me caught up with life, time and again

haaye aise main nihaaroon, teri aarti utaaroon
tere naam se jude hain saare naate

giving in to prayer of love, summoning the gods
for the underlying harmonium with holy awakening
only gets lucid enough as you let thyself consume in love
my devotion is yours to blame, my heart, your keepsake

yeh naram naram nasha hai, badhta jaaye
koi pyaar se ghunghatiya deta uthaaye

the restraint will only go so far, why bother at all?
the indulgence leads me to up above and farther away
i often see my beloved there, at not much distance
with his hands in the air but his soul not quite there

main toh teri, tu hai mera

featured image by divaniindia

Buy The Damn Sky

thermocol dream
in a loose satin attire
what good is wishful thinking?
glue it with a brown broken button
onto floating realism to be on par
would you still frown upon your star
for never being in your favour
or running out of charm
mindless wander around the corner
neglecting thoughts, avoiding tall trees
it’s a relief to be human
to be able to dream
let not your inhibition decide
the colour of your sky
let not other dreamers define
the pace of your flight

Friendly Shadow

an uninviting and rather consistent knock
disrupted my sleep at three twenty-four,
said it had important business to finish at
ungodly hours popping blue pills galore

with the out of proportion indulgence tonight
and purple hair frantically grown out of place
alarming my sense of being with its existence
almost as good as grotesque for a pretty face

i blurted out nevertheless
make yourself at home

and there we were again raising wine glasses
making celebratory toasts to our very lows
resisting the urge to make love, anxiety and i
spoke for hours at length until we doze

featured image by Morteza Yousefi


फ़ासले इस कदर भी नहीं थे
के मोहब्बत साँस ना ले पाए
अब भी थोड़ी जान थी दिल्लगी में
जो मेरे वजूद में भी तुझको ही मौजूद पाए

दिन ढले, पलकों के तले
आहें भरते हुए तुम्हें पाया है
खुश्क मौसम में भी आँखों ने
सैलाब के रूप में तुझे सजाया है

नाकाम रही हो हर कोशिश
सर-आँखों पे तो बिठाया है
तुझे ख़्वाहिशों से नहीं बांधा
पर इस रिश्ते को मैंने अकेले ही निभाया है

तन्हाई का दौर तो कुछ और था
तुम्हारी चाहत को महफ़िल की तरह मनाया है
बेदर्दी ही क्यूँ ना ठहरे तुम जनाब
इस रुस्वाई से भी हमने दिल बहलाया है

फ़ासले इस कदर भी नहीं थे
के मोहब्बत साँस ना ले पाए
अब भी थोड़ी जान थी दिल्लगी में
जो मेरे वजूद में भी तुझको ही मौजूद पाए

featured image by divaniindia

Isn’t Love Fiction?

How do you begin to write about love when you’ve been a cynical romantic for ages? It’s almost funny because writers would romanticize every damn thing in the world only to bleed poetry out of their ink. But love? It’s so heavy I can barely type the word and so non-existent and probably only in our heads. This might be coming from an emotionally deprived person but what the hell, love is still very much a fictional tale.

It’s a vicious cycle if we come to think of it – at our young blossoming age, we start to learn the basics and grasp the idea of love by adapting the bits from our surrounding and that defines it. We gradually grow into these individuals curating our own thought process around it, now you do have a little more than the basic knowledge. Suddenly you’ve turned 18 and you find yourself making a list of what love should look like, the necessary qualities that they absolutely must have, what they should smell like, how you expect them to dress. Amidst all this, it never dawns upon you that the apparent love you’re looking for, is busy preparing another list that you perhaps don’t quite fit in. So, you get your heart broken, have your idea of love shattered and list tore to pieces because what’s the point of anything anymore?

But then walks in another person and with every bit of uncertainty, you give them a chance to make a list for you. You give them an opportunity to just be. Turns out they are all the things that you ever wanted from your 18-year-old list, but you’ve outgrown that self now. You no longer feel relevant with your past version and you still try with every ounce of your energy to feel the love you’ve always wanted. But, how could you? It doesn’t serve you anymore.

And in between all the chaos of finding true love and ending up as a heartless wreck, when exactly do you know it is love and not just another unknowingly selfish act to feel the need of belongingness?

The Shut Doors

dipped in the pools of honey & spice
your inviting lips of rose were such a host
died a little death not once but twice
as you placed them on mine to raise a toast

now my sweet tooth grew to ache for you
but only to have the house burnt to ashes
and to turn my lips pale blue

of the salty air meshed with musk & wood
defining true smell of your earthy being
unfolding a saga only i understood
oh how you had me on my knees grieving

the distinctive notes began to engulf me whole
but only to chase & dodge within a crowd
losing its self from the very soul

crafted rather skilfully with a meticulous eye
your enchanting body put any art to shame
and any artist into an introspecting cry
out of our mere touch as the sparks aflame

your canvas was set to be my heavenly abode
but only to have you shut the door on me
and walk past the paved road

of pronounced charisma for personality
and aura resonating with the sound of beach
like our sand granules gave in to the clarity
of cosmic connection that’s never out of reach

with sand in my feet and sand in my hair
put my guard down for you, only to have you
laugh at my funny little despair

Selfish Lover

incessant strokes of yellow
drawn over my grimly deluded pages
that’s how you walked into my life with
gleaming afternoon rain for an appearance
remarkably spilling love out of your cages
a Chateau Margaux only getting
better by decades & ages

watching you watch me
through your red tinted glasses
presumably in a home-grown
rosy illusion of your own
oblivious to my tale of raging dark storm
terribly terrified of my icy heart and
a selfishly crooked image not shown

with the dreamy lustre in your eyes
and ever so charming smiles
would you have looked through
my constantly battling truth & lies?
the lethality of you ever knowing
ever stabbing into my freezing soul
made it look like an elegantly done vice

how did you sink so deep, my love?
it was only sometime ago that
you cushioned the aching with some gin
recovering from a sweet withdrawal of her skin
and now you’re drowning
gasping for light more than the air
granting you a little death as i walk by
almost letting you sniff my aphrodisiac hair

Be-naam Jazbaat

एक हलचल महसूस होती है तनहा ख़यालों में
बेचैन खामोशी का शोर सुनाई देता है उन्ही राहों में

तसल्ली की गुंजाइश भी कहाँ है इस दिल से
जो हर रात तारों के तले महरूम रहता है तुम्हारे साये से

कुछ यूँ सुला दी तुमने बातें अनकही और बातें अनसुनी
के वो इंतिकाल से भी लौट आए ये गवारा अब नहीं

सैलाब जैसे बह चुका था, सुर्ख़ आँखें नम कर चुका था
हर साँस का बोझ उठाना होगा, ये भी किसने सोचा था

ख़ुमार उनका ऐसा के ख़ुदगर्ज़ी नक़ाब ना पहचान सके
ख़ुदा से पहले इबादत जो कि उनकी
सज़ा-ए-इश्क़ में हम मारे गए

featured image by divaniindia

Sonnet At Sea

tinge of gold in the luminous sea waves
with a mix of white in his glistening heart
no wonder the common thread
kept engulfing us whole from the start

harmonising with a musical night at shore
our bodies stayed afloat singing the quiet lull
strings of cosmic dust held onto us
drifting to a slumber of paradisal cult

the frames of our stop-motioned notion
reflecting beneath the scintillating moon
demanding souls underneath our wet skins
to be kissed & touched & make love over dune

speaking quixotic hush & sweet nothings
to the cries of seas & waves that sings

inspired by the song – then i close my eyes by david gilmour //