I close my eyes as I lay down in her lap,
The fragrance of her sweet perfume quells my nightmares,
She slowly sings me songs her Mother taught her,
And her mother before her,
Songs that leads me to places calm,
Beaches where water clear as the sky caresses,
Mountains too, the morning where wakes up with the fog,
Sometimes she would move her hands through my hair,
Just like the wind through a grassland dry,
Cold, moist, soft,
As I descend into sleep, she sometimes would bend down over my head,
Plant a kiss on my lips,
Little did she know, they brought me showers,
Of something that my words fail to convert,
I would sometimes kiss her back,
But mostly not,
For that kiss pure as the first rainfall,
Hugged me like the first of November,
As summer slowly transforms to winter,
And apples fall from the orchards,
I sometimes listen to her heartbeats,
And wonder if she could hear mine,
Just like a songbox they play jazz to me,
I close my eyes everytime,
Her skin warms up my fists,
And I hold on to her,
As she pulls me close,
My seasons begin and end,
With her and always her….

I walk…

Dissolved in the fabric of time,
If you cannot find me,
Or hear my voice,
As I try to build myself from scratch,
Every time a storm ravages my shores,
And renders them inhabitable,
Pieces of my past on display,
For the entire world to see,
Scandalous, blasphemous, indigestible,
Currently rotting, desperate for attention,
Forget me for this is not me,
For I dissolve to create sands,
That travel and perpetuate synthetically,
I lose myself sometimes, most of the times, all the times,
In search for stories a treasure to me,
For I see castles in sand and mountains in air,
My body is my prison,
As it loses to chains that are these expectations,
And cohorts with the malice this mind sometimes breeds in my heart,
Born out of incest, taboo, and what brings me down most of the times,
But I bleed sweat of the color red,
That stains my wounds and covers my bruises,
And fuels the machinery of my legs,
Sometimes sores in my foot,
The scorching earth wasn’t kind,
But I walk and walk and run sometimes,
And I see the sun shining behind the clouds,
That sings of songs in my glory,
My footprints in the mud,
And sand in my eyes,
I walk and walk and run sometimes,
For nobody can stop me except the poison of my thought…..


I put my car in sixth gear,
Engine screaming at its peak,
The wind desperate to get inside the cabin,
Hissing past every speed-alert,
I know it’s unsafe,
Driving recklessly,
On a highway that doesn’t go anywhere,
Had some exits many kilometres back,
My muscles, they stay locked in position,
For they think they have control,
My body rolls with every turn,
Every speed breaker, pothole that comes my way,
And as my car blinks for the fuel that isn’t enough,
I release my foot off the accelerator,
Slowing down, looking at the grasslands,
Admiring the beauty that didn’t ever stumble upon me,
A small bump comes up on the highway,
My senses come back to me,
And I accelerate,
For one last time…..


The birds chirp and announce the start of the day,
As you slowly open the drapes,
And rays of Sun turn you golden,
Magical, splendid, like a work of art,
Exquisite only for me,
The wind plays with your hair,
Gently, not to disturb the sheer randomness that they are in,
My eyes absorbing this very moment,
Standing by the window sill, you look to infinity,
Maybe a thought that crossed your mind,
And you bite your lips,
A nerve here turned numb,
My eyes focus on you,
Those lips that speaks volumes,
Soft, like a feather,
That sometimes caresses my hardwood floors,
Brings them floods and warmth,
Of something celestial, godly, natural,
I hold on to this moment, this sensation,
My words a travesty to what you create,
Everyday as you kiss me morning,
And call my name,
I smile as reality seems mesmerising,
As reality is you…..

Hold on…..

As I lay down in my bed,
My head spinning faster than the clock,
The ceiling mocks me, Jibes at me,
Dust falling on my forehead,
The posters hung on my wall,
And pictures of places I’ve been to,
People that stayed,
And those moved on,
Sigh for they know what helplessness does to you,
How attachment breeds forests that catch fire,
On the slightest getaway,
It too flutters some words through cracks on itself,
Stories that remind me of earthquakes brutal,
When rain came inside my room,
And the bed turned to a trench,
Like a sinking pothole without a bottom,
Layers of humus covering my head,
Mushrooms on my skin,
The walls sometimes cave down on me,
As anxiety kicks in,
Or maybe something stranger to me,
The person in the mirror a stranger to me,
I detest this stranger,
Sometimes want to embrace him,
Let him cry on my shoulder,
As I listen, nod sometimes, maybe give a cup of tea,
For something to hold on to,
As night engulfs the room,
And dogs howl at night,
The mind numbs, wants to sleep,
I try to close my eyes,
The spinning stops somedays,
And the throat of the ceiling dries away,
My bed becomes hard like the forest floor,
The skin grows roots,
And I hold on,
For the Sun is few hours away…..

Neon Signs….

Neon signs and shady lanes,
Money exchanging hands,
Through bodies of remorse,
Empty stomachs, pale eyes,
The Mistress of inebriety,
Dancing to the tunes of helplessness,
Addiction, hopes or desire of clear skies,
Its the streets like these that breeds the sewage,
The opulent sometimes like to think so,
As the rotting sight of flesh and skin disgusts them,
For they have hearts of glass,
That break on sights of the Sun rising over Mars,
And their veins burst with blood green,
The days are merciful to these streets,
As light brings them hope,
Shuns away despair and the gobbling eyes,
For no one wants to be recognised in places such as these,
Love springs as the neon signs turn off,
And the routine, the one accepted starts,
Driver, receptionist or a student struggling to study,
Their sky is often red,
Chewed, mulched and spewn on streets like these,
They breathe the same air,
Sometimes eat the food as ours,
Blue collar or a collar white,
Their money is often tainted,
Or it appears so,
The night as it comes again to these streets,
Dressed in make-up bad,
Clothes cheap,
They venture to the streets,
As the neon signs light their way,
And sobriety shies away…..


She burned through the night,
As he slowly disobeyed her every rule,
Drinking the nectar of passion,
Soaked in sweat sweet,
He let her fall,
And turned her on again,
Losing breaths here and after,
They stopped for a sip of water,
And a puff of cigarette,
The air intoxicated as well,
The flicker of the bulb too,
Annihilation seemed inevitable now,
But she, she wanted more……

I ask for your consent…..

Let me for a day,
Fill your valleys with roses pink,
The land dried without warmth,
A drought of million years,
And sow the seeds of love,
For the soil can still bear fruits,
I like to believe so,

Let me take you to the other side,
The Sun never sets,
Moon in its admiration each day,
And rub some celestial dust,
Your wings clipped before you could sail,
Powerful enough to carry mountains,
I can see them unfurl,

Let me kiss you slowly,
For deserts sometimes sigh in relief,
As rain seldom touches their facade,
Filled with sand, their hearts beat irregularly,
Earthquakes in their belly,
They can create oceans or mountains,
I plant mangoes in rows,

Let me close your eyes,
And bring you the news far of the north,
The things that escape your eyes,
Your vision I become,
The curves on your body,
And those behind your veils,
I etch my dreams on your skin,

Talk to me as I try to hold your hands,
Corrosion was not merciful,
And the storms didn’t settle,
For I’ll be your escape into imaginary,
Turning them to reality my only goal,
Let me bring you flowers,
I ask only for your consent….

Trying my hands at digital drawing…


Drifting aimlessly through furrows of my past,
If someday I get lost,
Call my name with all the love you got,
For anything less wouldn’t reach my heart,
Breathe the winds slowly and moist,
The warmth will drive the frost away,
And sing me lullabies as I become deaf,
Melodies mixed with a tumbler of blood,
The dry veins and the sunken lungs,
I will if not today reach you someday,
Feet burning, stubble in a disarray,
The rivers, they carry my body,
Tries to sink but stays afloat,
I will if not today see you someday,
Meet you over plantations of coffee,
To bury the scents of my crimes,
Take my hand, do not refuse,
And guide me to the lights supreme,
For I am lost or will be soon,
Is it today or tomorrow or a year ago,
I will find you someday,
Lest my memory doesn’t betray…..


For centuries the dam had held in the water,
Standing tall, Majestic, Strong,
The storm came with pebbles small,
And struck the dam in ways unimaginable,
Water now above its flood point,
As she struck him with a smirk obscure,
Sluice gates to his heart opened,
Villages destroyed on the way down,
Cracked at places the dam went weak,
For small lavenders grew in its crevices,
The storm, she filled his reservoirs,
With waters of seven heavens,
His senses, mind, consciousness,
All went numb,
As he tried to close the gates to the dam,
He forgot he had any control…..

Act Divine….

Hello there, the following is something I am trying my hands at and maybe the first one I have made public. This maybe a little too sensitive for the readers who still aren’t adult. My apologies for the same. Please skip this if you aren’t an adult. Thank You. May you enjoy reading.

Cruising along her highways green,
He had stumbled upon a cave,
The cave littered with the orbs ancient,
Pieces of her heart buried along milestones,
For long her highway was used,
Travellers stopped and proceeded,
Looked and used,
Never to return,
Never to repair,
He slowly stopped himself,
Onto the entrance pristine,
As he had thought,
For him the cave was a sanctuary,
Away from reality,
Nirvana, Moksha, Tranquility,
As he kissed her caves,
Her moist lips,
Soft, sunken, taken for granted,
Clouds brought thunderstorm with them,
Flooded with the first rain,
Their kiss seemed an oasis,
Magma had started to flow,
Taking over them,
Taking over her snowy, igneous body,
Unloved, unkempt, uneven,
Centuries passed in a whiplash,
Entangled in one another,
They slowly unraveled each other,
As she became a Chimera,
And he learnt to tame her,
Only for that moment,
He took off her vegetation,
And his asphalt,
As they lay disrobed,
In arms of one another,
The heat had risen to celsius in thousands,
His lengths concealed in her Volcanoes,
Intertwined together for eternities,
They made love to one another,
And filled the valleys with rivers,
That reflected the colour of their skies,
Blue and red,
Eons had passed as they moved from galaxies to galaxies,
And the hustling of their riveting parts,
They stopped when their cores ran dry,
And Happiness in their eyes,
Her caves were explored,
And his curiosity satisfied,
Lying naked in arms of one another,
They looked at the stars,
Witness to their act divine,
They smiled and nodded in acknowledgment,
As he watched her,
And she turned his head towards him,
Again their act had begun,
For her navel carried secrets,
He hadn’t explored,
His lengths knew stories,
She had never heard…..


Happiness comes easy to me,
The wind in my face,
The fragrance of the food,
Slow songs that make me wanna Waltz,
Driving on roads,
Nowhere to go,
For sometimes I wear a mask,
To hide my hideousness,
Disgusting even for me,
The claws that bury deep in my skin,
Blood clotted and flows again, 
When I see the stars my eyes sparkle,
Gravity doesn’t pull them down,
They support planets,
I see birds that chase,
Dreams they see,
The food for mind, body and heart,
And I smile as the Sun comes up,
For it lights the day,
The Sunflowers kiss him each day,
I sometimes take off my mask,
And shred off the skin,
Burnt from the pathos of time,
Look in the mirror sometimes,
To unclutter my hair,
And I smile for me, 
For nobody else, 
And do not disguise the scars on my face,
For they are my very own, 
The lips seldom cheer up,
The cheeks laugh, 
I smile for me,
And for nobody else,
Happiness comes easy to me,
Like an endless freefall……..

At Home……

As the lights slowly dimmed,
The sharpness of his vision slowly fading,
Sounds drove him to places, 
Scents guided him towards the known,
When senses fail sometimes memories speak to you,
The wrinkles on the face,
The curves on the body, 
Darkness had engulfed his sight,
Fears ran amok, 
Rioting in his mind,
But as he closed his eyes,
The way his Momma had taught him,
Years before she had passed into the light,
He could see his friends, 
Their little hands as they held them together,
And he saw his Momma, 
Beautiful as always,
Daffodils in her hair,
Winds blowing her hair slowly,
She held his hands,
Made him Apple Pie,
Just like the 4th of July,
He was at Peace,
The rioters in deep slumber,
As his mind slowly lied down,
He was at home,
He was loved………


Walking alone on the untrodden path,
Sometimes you may come across some like you,
Similar to you or maybe poles apart,
They might hold your hands,
Or will let you go,
As you continue to walk on the path new,
Unfamiliar, scary sometimes,
Full of flowers or thorns on the way,
Sometimes you’ll bleed with the world at your call,
Or in the dark of the night,
When not a soul is visible,
You’ll laugh with your loved ones,
The ones those warm your heart,
And soothes your soul,
Or sob in the rain,
Hiding your vulnerabilities from the world,
For the world doesn’t deserve you,
You’ll think as they walk past you,
Laughing, mocking, Jibes thrown at you,
It will be hard sometimes,
The crippling pain of responsibilities,
Expectations, mistaken choices,
The past pulls you,
The future pushes you,
The present runs for your life,
Nothing seems right,
As your world slowly diminishes to your room,
Or even the penumbra of your being,
Slowly that tries to vanish,
Assimilate into the void,
Close your eyes,
Sit on the side of the path,
Absorb the sounds inside that speak to you,
Paint, Sing, Write, Dance,
Your creativity is your biggest friend in times like these,
It goes to sleep while you absolve yourself in the routine,
And comes to you when you let it wake up,
Do something for yourself,
Something you might never show the world,
For the untrodden path becomes difficult sometimes,
Its their nature,
For journeys like these make Kings,
Queens and Memories that write their own stories,
As you burn yourselves in the foundry of routine,
A mould you’ll create over the times,
And fill it with your hopes and ambitions,
A butterfly will come out,
And the mould will break,
The Mould will surely break
And the path will take you home,
Where your tribe resides,
The mind and heart at last,
In sync…….


When silences speak for the void in between,
Sound loses its worth,
Presence, absence, today or tomorrow,
Incompetent they become…..

ख़ामोशी जब बयान करती है शून्य को कभी,
आवाज़ खो देती है अपना आयाम,
होना, ना होना, आज, कल,
अक्षम हो जाते हैं सब……