Ties torn before bound

With every sip of foul

I crave the isolated desolation

Aware of its nature, it destroys

Beware the facade it enjoys

Delusion, it comes in patterns

Mirrors the weight of foam

Tangible until touched

Quiet until hushed

Soft until crushed

Be fooled not

Sailor of merry voyage

This whirlpool is of my own choosing

My heart seeks fight, not rest

Regret visits me when doubt comes around

But it comes in patterns

Soon time will rise with the tide

And I won’t be sinking anymore


Dreams are like soda.

Don’t wait for yours to get flat.

Seek and ye shall find

Roses, crimson

glitter in the moonlight

Silent waterfalls

enunciate delight

Pretty princess

seek and ye shall find

what she misses

is the key to her own mind


Tulips , dark skies

sway and entice

tears in her pretty eyes

Daiquiri on flaming ice

rolling down her face

salt is all she tastes

along with the lemon rind

Confused? Turn behind

Seek and ye shall find.

Shards of glass


Every fortnight

I shed my skin

I drench my soul

in a color fresh

each dawn


My voice changes

with every thought

I can go weeks

without talking at all



My aesthetic changes

with each gust of the wind

I discover myself

with every split second


It’s the beach

and then the hills

and then the desert

and then the forest



You may know me

as well as I do

but that isn’t saying

much at all


I’m an ocean

A jar of snow

I’m shards of glass

That’s all I know



I am ashamed

I don’t take a stand

for what I believe in

or speak up in crowds

like I do in verse


I am ashamed

I hide what I feel

flirt with ideas

I would spit on later


I am ashamed

that I cower

not speaking up

when I see something wrong

filled with a feeling other than rage


You know what it is

as well as I do

It keeps me up every night

Does it keep you up too?


The fact that we feel

nothing but relief

when we aren’t the ones

being put to grief.

red beret – 2

The girl in the red beret

wasn’t too keen to stay


for she didn’t dress proper

when she got into the bus

the men made a fuss

women hissed and cussed


for she got into the subway

the men began to hum and sway

their hands began to move and play

their minds numb, made of clay


for when she got to work

this idea she slept on for weeks

the male only smirked

take orders from me

you’re just a worker bee


and when she danced at night

to her only spotlight

the men inched closer

making bets with mates

she felt like a prize

until she realized

they would claim her

only for the night


Dogs seemed to inch closer

when she smelled sweet

but sprinted away

hissed with dismay

when she began to speak


So that’s what it takes,

she laughed

that’s how to keep the devil away

an original, strong say.



red beret – 1

She never quite fit in

Not at all, they say

a splash of red in a field of white

never expected to stay


Her very thoughts foreign

from a land called her own

her mind sharp as a needle

but her face was forlorn



In a world of men

so evil, so vile

abusing women

just made them smile?

Shoving and pushing them away

” Let me fight, my love,

this isn’t your place.”

I need you, they say

Dolls of wood

made for play

born to be claimed

afraid and ashamed

of all they think of

all they mean to say


Dress up for me

not another man to see

but don’t worry about he

his house has no key

every woman free to roam

after her, another to clone


But, my love

pure as a dove

you’re all the same

so innocent and tame


Women, women

what have we done?

drink from your mouth

must not leak

when men sit at the table

you must not speak

sit straight

pull down your hair

look pretty

talk back, don’t you dare!

eat less, honey

here, have a smoke

show them you are bold



What if I don’t want to?

why can’t I be who I am?

You can’t sweetie!

men don’t understand.



No one talked to her

no one gave her their time

for whenever they did

she recited this very rhyme


They thought her sad

broken heart-ed for a lad

they didn’t see her smile

when they walked away

rolling their eyes

misery she feigned

for distance is what kept her sane.






Fairy lights

And from this far away

and this far above

this city , no more than

fairy lights

strewn astray

by a careless child

in lieu of play

unaware, burning out

we’d fade away






restless, I’m dreaming

Of fate altogether kind

not of luck, but chances

I may not ever find


Dreamer, naive

Wake up calls they sound

Bruised belief

My very heart ceases to pound


It holds my dream dear

Guarded with lust, rage and fear

a vision, sincere

grows stronger with every tear


Yes, fade my footsteps

On the beach where I stand

but that is only if I move

Standing still , eternal

Dreaming my dream comes true.


7.6 billion mistakes

Isn’t it random? How you just happen to exist one day. How you just manage to agree to everything that is being fed to your little brain. How you adapt to an entire world, how you accept your existence, without a shadow of a doubt.


How you’re very soon learning. How to read, write, speak. Eat, fight, preach? How you realise how some things help you in existing, others help you in a mirage called the future, and some don’t help at all. How you’re just pushed into a rat race with no memory of giving your consent. How you are immersed in a sea of your own problems and soon are in too deep to wonder why.




What is the end result of all this? 7.6 lives. Each begins and like a circle ends. But what is the purpose? How is all this so random , yet so easily accepted?


Some would say we were put here by a divine force. And I wonder why? What are we doing here? We live our own lives. Sometimes stage up little plays for entertainment. Pick up exciting toys like guns and bombs and decide its playtime. We make up our own beliefs and force them down throats of others. Those who don’t swallow are beheaded. We come. We sleep. We eat. We do tasks for paper. Precious paper. Very very important paper. Some people declare playtime over paper.


We give this paper to worthy people, who distribute it among us. Some get less, some get more. No one is satisfied. But, these people are worthy so they decide to reward themselves on a job well done. But at the end of the day, each and every one of us wakes up to the same day of 24 hours. And I just don’t understand why.


Sometimes I feel like we are all enclosed in a glass box. Little toys running on batteries. Amusing others. Putting up quite a show. Maybe a crowd accumulates around us everyday. Maybe we are just playthings. It makes more sense than a purpose-less existence now doesn’t it?


For, I, unlike others, cannot wrap my head around how random each and every aspect of this life is.




The same cycle


day after day

your cries aren’t heard

you don’t get a say


The same winner

in the same chase

The same words

spoken on the same days

The same preacher

with his ideal ways


I’d heard of adventure

excitement and fear

Of new experiences

popping up everywhere

Of oppurtunities

and chances unknown

Of unexpected places

we would find home


The same day repeating

one by one

you’d think monotony

would set with the sun

but you’re mistaken

of care that is taken

your life has just begun






Stone to Straw


face to face

hand in hand

Against sunrise

on soft sand

we decide it isn’t meant to be

you, who I have always

strived to be.


For you aren’t true

you’re everything I’m not

made of all things I find fascinating

everything I’ve sought

every imperfection

every flaw

erased, replaced

stone to straw


I thought I’d be strong

I’d be brave

impossible toward me not to gaze

hair of silk

skin like fleece

not a man I wouldn’t please


mine would shine

in a list of endless names

they would laugh, take aims

for i naive, forgot


though stone hard and cold

straw would go up in flames


A new dawn

To leave the tread of all time
And let it make a dark line
In hopes that I can still find
The way back to the moment
I took the turn and turned to
Begin a new beginning

– Enya



What inspired me today #2 – Dead end

There are nights like this. Nights like tonight. Nights sullen and cold that mark a fitting end to an awful day. There are times like this. When you’ve lost way too many battles. When you’ve let way too many people down. You don’t see another way out. You can’t ignore your situation any longer. This is where you are. Fallen. Broken. Facing a dead-end.


There are times when pretty quotes and fake smiles don’t cause the illusion they used to. There are times when all words feel cold and every embrace forced. There are times when your own touch is toxic for you absolutely, with every iota of your being, hate what you are in this moment.


I remember, a couple of years back, I’d collapsed on the benches after losing a very important basketball game. My teammate put an arm around me. I cried a little harder and she began to laugh. I looked up, surprised. ” Oh come on! YOU? Crying? Tell you something. Why don’t you tell us the joke you told me at lunch?” I laughed as all my teammates gathered around me. That was the first time I’d laughed off tears. And you do it again and again until you just can’t do it anymore.


I don’t know what I’ll do next. I have no clue where I’m going with anything I’m doing. I know I’m failing almost everything I try. I know I’m not half as good as anyone around me. I know I’m sinking in the mess I created.


It’s this night. It’s a bad night. It’s this dead end. It’s these draining people I have to meet and this episode of failure that does not seem to end. But it will. It has to. I’ve failed the thousandth time today. This dead – end is more solid than the last. Today was harder than most. And the night will be longer than I hope it will.


But there will be dawn. There will be dawn in its golden embrace over you and I. There will be hope. The hope will shine blinding as ever awakening our tired eyes. There will be courage. Courage will roar through our chests and push us to do what we set out to. The longer the night, the brighter the dawn.


It’s just a bad night. Just another night we have to sleep off. Don’t give up now, for you are so much stronger than you think. For you’ve gone through this before. For you’ve pushed so far – and you deserve victory not defeat.


You are not settling for anything less than absolute fulfillment of your craziest dream. Don’t you dare give up on it now.




I’m tired of comparing

barks of trees

to pieces of twine


I’m tired of chasing dreams

that have never been mine


What others own is

infinitely better

infinitely divine


No matter how hard I try

I never cut the line


Looking for omens

looking for signs

Trying to conjure

trying to find

something you feel

is worth more of my time


I’ll leave you one day

and when I do

maybe my life

won’t be as tough

because, for once

what I am will be enough.


Don’t give in

You’re in a dark room. If it’s a room at all. You don’t know how you ended up there. You don’t know where you are. You don’t know if you’re alive. If you’re dead. You do know your worst fear is approaching you. What is your worst fear? It’s right in front of you. No, you see it because you just imagined it. This is all in your head.

But here you are, one step after the other walking into emptiness, coldness and absolute terror.


Anyone with a mental illness might relate.


I have anxiety disorder. I am always anxious. Always. I don’t know what triggers it but I find myself knowing, knowing extremely well that terror is upon me. Just that. Clueless otherwise, knowing it makes no sense I find myself in tears, counting to ten pulling my hair out. I shake. I shiver. I wait for it to stop.

I have written about Anxiety on this blog earlier. Jumping into an empty void. That’s what it feels like to me. It’s tiring, terrifying but worst of all it’s absolutely exhausting. It exhausts your stock of hope. The stock you worked so hard to build, drop by drop. Gone.

It leaves you empty. Lost. Cold. Dazed. This is the scariest part. Because, you don’t know what you might just do. Anyone who has dealt with an illness of the mind knows the dark, terrifying thoughts that float through your mind at this point. Thoughts you don’t even want to recall. You can’t believe you thought of them, but you did. Let me tell you something.


Those are thoughts. That is your disorder. That was your illness. THAT WAS NOT YOU.

Your illness is your enemy. A parasite. It wants you to do the horrid things you think you want yourself to do. It’s the illness speaking. IT IS NOT YOU.


Think of all the times you’ve gone through the same hell but you’ve come out virtually unharmed? Look at yourself! A warrior. A victor! You , you have fought innumerable battles. You who bear no scars on you iron scaled skin, might just be breaking on the inside – but you know. You know you’ve been through this before. It is not getting worse. It’s getting stronger, maybe. But guess who is getting infinitely stronger at the same time ? YOU.


You, a miracle. A fighter. My eyes well up to think about the damage your own mind has inflicted upon you. But look at yourself. You smile you have mastered. Your words – your own. Your acts of love, of kindness – despite the parasite eating away at you. IT HAS NOT CONTROLLED YOU! All these years, living with you. You, growing, learning, fighting – anything that poses harm to you perishes at your mere sight. What do they know? If we can fight the monster that knows us inside out – and fight it everyday , we are invincible.


You have such an amazing lifetime to witness. You have the highest mountains to reach. The freshest water to taste. All these maps you have to stuff in your backpack and take off. All the adventures. All the laughter. All the tears of joy. Infinite experiences await you. THAT IS YOU.


Don’t give in.



What inspired me today #1 – ‘Good’ people

It was unbearably cold as I stood beside a cop car waiting for the bus that had set time of arrival consisting of a 30 minute slot during which it could emerge out of thin air, wait for 20 seconds and disappear again, on a Monday morning in my usual state – messy gym hairdo I had no intention of touching as it was dripping wet, crinkled clothes that I placed under my mattress to keep warm, swollen eyes courtesy of the all-nighter I pulled which was equal parts crying and eating, slightly jittery from the coffee and counting down the seconds to the weekend.


Coffee has its usual effect of making ordinarily ordinary objects those of great interest . That morning it was my dusty shoes. Pretty mesmerized by how the dust accumulated in the wrinkles, I almost didn’t notice two women who passed in front of me, but what one of them was saying caught my attention.


” Yeah, you’re right, but how hard is it to find good people these days?”


Good people. Think about that for a second. What comes to mind? Honest people. People who don’t cheat you. People who go an extra mile. People who care about others more than they do about themselves.


People who you’d ask to do work you wouldn’t even do yourself. People you’d snigger about in a corner as they can’t say no. People who you’d casually insult as they never having a snide reply. People who you’d be ‘freaked out’ by as they are always smiling. People who you’d call ‘fake’ or ‘diplomatic’ as they tried to be friendly with everyone. Creepy people who try to help you a little bit more. Being outcatsed as they try to be nicer people. As they try to be good people.


Don’t you misuse good people? Don’t you make them regret trying to be nicer? Better? Don’t you convert anyone who remotely believes in selflessness to one of you? Why aren’t you a good person? Is it because you know nothing good comes out of it?


We are the society. We are complaining about something solely we can change. Be the change. The average human being influences at least 3 people. Let’s set off a ‘good’ chain reaction for once. Let us all try to be good people.



I inhale calm

and exhale turmoil



my mind falters

Pushed into a state of alarm

My senses fail me

I fumble around for something

to hold on to

as I’m pushed over an infinite void


Along the way

my body reminds me

that the disease is not only one of the mind

making my heart race endlessly

making my head split open

and my words choke me




I try to find out

what pushed me over the edge

Try to find out

what I am afraid of

But I never do.


I can never win

the other side is always stronger

The other side knows all my weaknesses

The enemy resides in my own mind


Constantly fighting a battle

One that leaves no scars


There is nothing you can do

But hope for it to pass

It never does

It hovers over you

waiting for a chance to strike



A blessed curse

I wish I knew earlier

that people like you exist

not only in fairy tales

and myths and lessons

but in real life


I wish I could

forgive and forget

but you’ve changed me.

Changed the way I

see this world.


I see you in everyone

I see you in everything

I see you everywhere

I see you in a cheat

I see you in a lie

I see you in fake tears

and fake smiles.


I wish I could say

I wish we had never met.

But you’ve strengthened me.


You’ve made me see

the beauty in innocence

love, laughter, peace.

You’ve made me see

how precious humanity is.


I wish I could say

I wish I never met you

But all you’ve given me

is hope, courage

and belief in myself.


Oh, my curse

what a blessing you’ve been to me.




drøm – /drœm/
“Yes ; I am a dreamer, for a dreamer is one who can find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”
 – Oscar Wilde

Don’t apologize

Don’t apologize for who you are. Don’t apologize for what you’ve been through. What you’ve become. Don’t apologize for your preference. Don’t apologize for your beliefs. Don’t apologize for your opinions.

Don’t apologize if you don’t comprehend. Don’t apologize if you don’t agree. Don’t apologize for not being reckless. Don’t apologize for taking care of yourself.

Apologies are beautiful, but they are also precious.

Don’t apologize to someone who feeds off it. Don’t fuel an ego. Don’t elevate arrogance.

Be kind. Be kind to those who can see it.



Sunsets on oceans

skies pink and blue

Vanilla scented lotion

fresh morning dew


Starry nights

endless dreams

Pillow fights

cookies and cream


Strum of a string

roads narrow and taper

Ochre sun rising

and the smell of fresh paper







I don’t write

for impression


I don’t write

for expression


I don’t write

for appreciation


I write merely

to make my voice



Not in a sea of

a million others


But over an

ocean of my own.



You won’t understand.

I don’t blame you.

We are broken machines

parts of us

that keep us alive





Creatures of rust.


It is this

rust that drives us

to madness.



Sweet child

of this

enchanted universe


You’re bound

to an infinite



Held in your arms

Warm in your embrace


Your suffering creates

quite the spectacle.


You’re broken

haven’t been hurting

You’re choking

biting your tongue

You’re dying

haven’t had a taste

of life


You’re exhausted.

Rest child.

Awaits you

your cosmic infinite


You think girls

are stepping-stones


Staying rooted

to our spot

as you sprint over us


But we aren’t.


The more mistakes

you make

the more lessons we learn


The more steps you take

the more leaps we make




I want to lay

in a starlit field

warm in my own embrace.



I want to breathe the fresh

sweet air deeply

awakening every part

of my body




I want to remain

at peace until

the sole daffodil

is taken by the wind as its own

for that is my cue to leave.


When I feel blue

I pick up my pen

to write


When I finish

I feel blue

yet again


It is a puzzle

an illusion


It is the journey

not the destination


It is the process.


Art has always

been about the






the biggest misconception

of all

is that

home is a place


Home is not a place

but a feeling


Home is not where

you sleep

it is where you are at rest


Home is not where

you eat

but where you are



Home is not where you live

It lives within you.


Home is a city.

Home is a memory.

Home is a person.

Home is an illusion.


To some,

home is merely

a piece of paper

and some ink.

What are we?

Are we our thoughts?

Are we our actions?

Are we our beliefs?

Are we

who we consider

ourselves to be?

Who we speak to

in the dead of

the night?

Or are we

what others see?

Tired, bored

overworked, upset

always having

an excuse for

behaving the kind?

Is that what we are?

Fat , thin

dumb, smart

rich, poor

dead , alive

Is this what defines us?

If we are

different things

to different people

does it only matter

what we are to ourselves?


Oceans of people

satisfied with the gleaming surface

We will never find out

What we are.



We will rise

with the sun

We will grow



we may fall

we may crumble

We may fail.

But we aren’t afraid

Or ashamed.

We will fail .

Not in vain.

We will fail.

Over and over again.

Flaunt the failures

upon our very skin.

We are proud.


Our blood



Why would we

be ashamed of

who we really are?


We are alive.







//inspired by Adagio in D Minor//


I am


from my own thoughts

in a game

of hide and seek

Like a mother

and a child


trying not to be found

and to be seen




one of us

will give up



You know 

something went wrong 

when whilst

making your future 

a better place

you begin 

to question 

whether it is

really even

worth living in. 

What pressure would 

you be under

to live the life

you always dreamt


Would you even 

sleep at night


your past

was spent

wasting away

to live a better life 


When does later 



How hard is 

it to accept

that those

truly happy

bask in the glow

of their memories.

Not their present.

Not their dreams.

How hard is it 

to accept

that the journey

is infinitely 

more precious

that the 


How hard?



Cosmic infinity


Looking up at

the enchanted

infinite spread

laid out by 

the stars 

against a dark


I feel trapped

in a glass jar

If you feel

the way I do

then maybe 

you know

the glass does 

not exist

Yet we will

perish within its


We are doomed

Privileged enough

to witness brilliance

but hapless 


to attain it

Not because we 


But because we 

don't long to


13th of December – Awakening


One and a half


I spent

Convinced you were

the soil holding me

but now

I can see

you were

nothing but 

another weed. 

When successful people talk about their journey – often comes a point where they are – quite literally – awakened. They attain this brain wave out of absolutely nowhere, that – well, changes the entire course of their and in most cases the common man’s life.

Let me tell you something It’s never sudden. Not ever.

You can’t get an earth shattering thought out of nowhere unless you were pondering over it all along. Yes, even when you absolutely sure you were not. Your subconscious was. It never put the case to rest. Whether it was a fan theory you conjured out of thin air or a math problem you just couldn’t solve – you don’t just wake up with answers or well, better questions that lead eventually to answers.


I found one of those answers today.

I can positively say that I have never been as inspired and as motivated in my life.

What awakened me was a picture of another daisy who stumbled into the deceitful soil I had. Another daisy convinced the soil was fertile enough to plant her seedlings. You can try all you want, as hard as you can sweetheart, you can color the panther pink, but you can’t change his nature. A predator will always be a predator whether or not he asks his prey for consent.


I never thought this would affect me so, I never did. But, I cannot be more grateful that it has. Ever since I manged to pull my roots away, I haven’t thought about it. The name that had constantly played in my mind now only fleetingly made its appearance. I didn’t mind it. Not much had changed in my life. I wasn’t happier, but I definitely was not worse off. I was at peace.


Now that it has awakened me, I am ready. Ready for all the challenges I had taken upon, convinced I would be able to tackle them – but never having the motivation. I know things would turn out well – whether I worked hard or not. (well = I wouldn’t die of starvation.)

But now? I will burn all the obstacles to the ground. And bury them. I will be my own soil. I know what strength will power holds. I have never been excited about putting in sheer hard work. Now I am. I can’t go to sleep but I can’t wait to wake up. I have never been this excited about life before. I don’t like how I got there, but all that matters to me now is that I did.


After chasing mist for so long, I am glad to finally see the peak. It’s crystal clear. It’s out there. Out there for me. It’s crystal clear, I can almost taste it.

It’s out there for you too. All that’s left to be done is to trample over the weeds. The rest, well – the rest will be taken care of by probably the most trustworthy person on the planet.








Why, I asked her

do we wait for

the rainbow after

the hurricane

but are afraid

of the storm

after calm?

Sweet girl, she smiled 

It is what is

worth waiting for

that matters

Bold , I spoke

I think a storm is worth waiting for .