these pathways aren’t
these pathways aren’t
background television noise,
stray dogs howling, louder.
a taste of sweetness
collected from a sour world
the opening scene of many plays but the resolution of none.Read More Damsel In Distress
never tried a cigarette like I have tried smokersRead More never
When you sip a taste of their faraway thoughts, you have a longing for more. Like an unwrapped gift. Like something shipped. Like a faraway person in a distant terrace, visible but unheard. But if they are as close to your window as trees and their frequent phone calls, random fights, casual fucks, and crying […]Read More Mirage
Tonight I see a shadow of me against the wall. Actually half shadow. There’s no one at the terrace, just me, my breath, and dim phone light. I see the bats hovering over and empty roof tops. I always wonder what so important can people be doing inside their build up walls that they never […]Read More Breathing Skin Deep
From one sip to two, from neat to bottom’s up, from being in a mood to get into the mood, how far can we excuse to drink it to death. Till the very last breath, will you still be holding a cigarette in your hand, and pour the rum down your neck. Shouting cheers and […]Read More Half filled!
We are all flesh afterall… Some new, some old. Wearing layers of clothes Hiding, showing at one’s own note. Stretching, itching, bleeding, Covering, feeling, stinking. Some pinch, hurting. Sun’s heat burning, With every degree rise, sweating. With every drop, shivering. Can’t be at ease for all. Every action is acted upon. Every touch, felt close. […]Read More Flesh
Oh! The lush of wild in me Used to be so many trees, I’ll tell you about the counts Not one, nor two, there were hundreds around. And how the wind swirled in them. The old colonel always gave that grin. Swore he never felt the chill. But beneath that cloak of sheep’s skin […]Read More Into The Fades Of Dehra..
wipe the blade clean,
wipe it clean
before someone sees
all that die, live
a thousand funerals
distractions and delusions
paint a perfect trap
of dreams and day-dreams.
the weights are heavy
but I’m floating.
for what seems like an eternity, now.