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Momentary lapse

It was a momentary lapse, wasn’t it? That fractional slip when I felt I could not gather myself anymore. Gone is that moment, gone is the slip. I relive them for one last time… until I have to say I love you again.

O, my derelict heart. Listen to me, for once. Stop giving yourself away…

I thought I was letting you go. You came back. You left. You came back. Since when has my wild heart become your circus, where you traipse in, juggle, joke and pretend? Your act has become stale… You no longer entertain Me.

Yet you are still here. Do you not understand? Or has my heart not found the lock to keep you out? Unless we locked the door and handed you the key…

It turns out, my being understands you are no longer the gatekeeper, but my heart is adamant on being adamant.

Oh wait, it’s the sky pouring forth its feelings in my stead. Here comes the rain, asking me what’s wrong, as if it’s unaware…

I am incapable of stealing the key back, let alone asking for it back. Maybe it’s time. Keep the key. Keep the memories too. It’s time to change the lock.



I have carried my whole world inside me, and it’s coming apart. I┬áhave breathed through the deepest darkness, thinking that it would take over me, and carry me to someplace darker than dark art. It did not happen. I travelled, but I somehow found my way back.

Am I in one piece again? I can hear my voice again. Is it the same?

I am on a simple quest for connections.
To see. To be seen.
Not as what others want to perceive, but as who I am and what I believe in.

I have imagined what it would be like to draw a circle. Sometimes, I forget where to start. But wherever my starting point will be, I’ll make sure to garnish the rest of the line, of the journey, with my words.

I don’t want to please you. I don’t want to write for you. Yet I keep scribbling. The words keep tumbling… and you keep coming to my mind.

Under the Rain

We heard the wind chime, and the bells chimed along.

We found shapes in clouds, found oddities,
And a million possibilities.

He walked beside me, yet he was all around,
Overwhelmed, I could not stay rooted to the ground;
He knew it, I knew it too: to each other were we already bound.

I once called him my sun
‘Cause he brightened the planets –
When he once walked with me under the rain,
Just before the showers gathered all that I had gained.

We met again, under the rain;
To us, it seemed like a drizzle
So much our hearts would burn and sizzle,
Hidden from sight, hidden from pain,
These hidden meanings were anything but plain.

He looked over, figuring out the mystery,
Eyes narrowed, wondering why everything was glittery.
It’s the rain, I assured him, it smacks of a conspiracy.
Don’t reason it out, we’re framed to a greater degree.
Walk, let the rain fall over me:
I’d rather hide you, let the rain confound me.

He pried open my secrets, reminded me of how we met.
Suddenly the torrent sounded like a litany,
The storm, the raindrops, unravelled in a flurry.
He spoke, softly amidst the mist and dew,
The rain sprinkled upon us, delectably,
No longer am I lost, said he, now that I have found you,
And now we are one, and now my world is you.



I can feel the nightly drizzle on my hands.
December, you say? I can’t see it. I wish I could feel it… except there’s a wish in every step we take.

The mornings are the same, but the times have changed. They feel hollow, but part of me is screaming.

Where did they go? All of them. It feels so cold, so bleak. Yet someone collided with my heart.

I hear the echoes. Maybe I’m someone else. Maybe I’m still the same. Maybe you’re someone else. Maybe you changed.

I have thirteen wishes – one of them is to make it stop. The other is to find you. Or find you again. What’s the difference?

Did it matter? To me, it did. And to you?

Where did you go? Where have you been? I just heard you walk in again. Or was it my own heartbeat?

On Maybe.

Maybe this is how we are meant to feel forever.
Maybe this is how it never ends.
Maybe this is why it matters.
Maybe we are more than just friends.

Too many ‘maybe’s’ we cannot understand. Too many colours of our hearts we would like to splash across the sky. Too many clouds we need to move around. Too many strings to untie.
And then, there are words we write.

Why do we write? To express. To let those too-insistent voices come out. To feel blue. To feel words that are sometimes just enough. Or just not enough. Barely encompassing that space in which we want to breathe.

Maybe we want to start in one way and end up in another.
Maybe there’s no clear beginning.
No clear end.

Maybe there’s just you.
And then, there’s me.



He counts the shots as he fires –
One, two, three, no one is safe.
His father’s gun feels right in his hands,
Even as they tremble and they chafe.

Here lies the bully, who made him scream
Everyday as he walked down the hall,
Tortured him to his very soul,
And made sure no help would ever come.

One for the teacher, who’d pick on him,
Two for the girls, who laughed at him,
Three for the ones he once called friends,
Whose friendship led him to such an end.

He counted the shots as he fired –
His tremulous thoughts went haywire.
He forgot the list he had made before,
He couldn’t keep track anymore.

Continue reading “Shots”

Dark Night

It always starts with a melody,
Like a waterfall shielded from perfidy,
You strutted to me, like a prince without vanity,
Asking me to walk to you, to create another reality.

I gazed in ultimate ecstasy,
As the wisps of smoke reinvented insanity:
The colours, the scent, you… a whole other galaxy.
The more I looked, the more you… you all seemed imaginary.

Where were we? Where had we reached?
I’d forgotten all alacrity!
Where are we? Where have we reached?
I’d follow you in greater depravity.

There are too many words in my head,
Too many that I write for you,
Too many that defy you, define you,
Give meaning to the flashes in my head.

Continue reading “Dark Night”



Let me introduce you to our story
Reminiscent of a discreet fantasy;
Inaudibly did romance converse with us –
While hours played by in flashes for us.

There we were, strangers at crossroads,
Or were we star-crossed from the start?
Or perhaps no stranger was he to me,
No stranger, surely, than this strange reality.

His steps faltered when he lay his gaze on me,
And I stared back, held on to sanity:
There was space to contemplate,
More rules to enumerate;
How then could I to emotions give way,
And throw perspective in disarray?

The three fates pulled us back, thrice,
The only way they knew how to:
Had our smiles already cast the dice?
‘Cause suddenly I saw the world in blue. Continue reading “Introduction”

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