Sound asleep little ladies.

  “Move along” as the beige uniforms shouted, the moon was raided with life ending sparks, deafening voices and fusillades, slowly bringing the living night down. some here the church bell go… One and two – the shots hit the core. while poor fellow die hugging the defense, they reminisce the last bit of the…

Love in the time of cholera.

Love in the time of cholera swept too much during afternoon lunches in fifth grade when time concealed and pursuaded me to buy a chocolate bar in lieu of asking you out. After too much pressure of choosing a book over another, I learnt how the romantic in me wanted to yell from the tallest…

Buzz.

The last time we spoke our minds were more twisted than the telephone wires. You have a particular turquoise tee that I share too and it once got me thinking​, how does such a coincidence exist? We’re strangers. That same shade which brew the fire. Or does it not? I hope it does. Hope kills…

Sunrise.

Yesterday Coleridge’s poem read the river met a sunless sea and it’s always beaches that surfaces when I think of the sun, be it setting or rising. The ocean and I met yesterday during a walk behind the misty night; you were scribbling on polaroids with smirks at the corner of your mouth like an…

Seven.

Once, when I was three plus four years old, I waited for my hair to grow longer. I remember the boy next door introducing me to Harry Potter and the odd number became more of a favourite than mere mathematics​. Coldplay everyday after seven played Magic, once or twice when didun and dadu couldn’t share…

I don’t understand.

I don’t understand what is it that I write which flickers you, your being into the lifeless paper; almost as if when I touch wine to my chapped lips they burn into fire to melt your sadness away. I don’t understand if every thing is in symmetry and, the moon and the sun and the…

Look up.

Look up, the sky is tinted more with lipstick stains than those which were tried hard to remove from the last goblet. It is inevitable in the end to decipher which immigrant brings what language carved, through days, on your body, in school, college, funeral and birthdays. Does it help? The looking-up part, without punctuations…

I see beauty.

I see beauty in a three and a half second eye contact, denying our existence of dust and shadow that rains water and broken promises. I see beauty where unfallen tears constitute the wholeness of you. Where lilac lilies are one of the many wilderness that you possess. I see beauty when never upon a…

Summer.

After too many sweet rantings of you and your drinking habit with chips at the end of your writing desk, that leaves you minty, this summer knocked late. Come in. Sit. Drink something. It isn’t Mexico, and we won’t hop form vineyard to vineyard​ in search of the lost one. Here, summer isn’t always flower…

Miss.

I had best days with unwashed hair. The worst of the kind with clean, proper brown shoes. My kryptonite was sleep, Mum was called on fridays to school. Her bangles jangled, When rains stepped in slippers, along with the glass plates that broke at 2. I had boy’s cut hair for so long, that When…

One.

Love of one kind says, sadness somersaults in sudden spaces. Dark and fearful that speaks The language of one’s soul. That doesn’t always have a fifteen minutes dance routine. That ends topsy turvy in parks with empty swing and match boxes. Another kind of that one love, brews fascinating tiredness anticipating to bleed behind a…

I am.

I am her, who started little by little with pink balloons And monsoon’s sigh. The world was too little to care for And so was I. I am the trees who watched bugs and anthills Yet brought home Bs thinking of centuries. I am the days that passed ahead, calling short gun infinity. I am…

Rant.

05:46 AM. I remember that wednesday when you said you were waiting to not be afraid to step into​ relations. I was rude enough to ask you to wait for an eternity that would never cross you. We existed together. Until one day I pointed out, didn’t you see we were together for so long?…