There I was sitting in the garden,
Because, chirping sounds were my love,
Birds, my family.
Animals, I knew none,
Puffy was my universe for dogs were my life.

There I was sitting in the noshery,
Because, that ambience was my love,
Mojito, my family.
Cocktails, I knew none,
For, food was my universe.

There I was sitting under a tree,
Because, flowers were my love,
Butterflies, my family.
Weeds, I knew none,
For, fruits were my universe.

There I was roaming in the school corridor,
Because, library was my love,
Solitude, my family.
Classes and people, I knew none,
For, dispersal alarm was my universe.

There I was sitting under the night sky,
Because, moon light was my love,
Constellations, my family.
Planets, I knew none,
For, Earth was my universe.

There I was in her womb,
No,no, nothing was my love and no one my family,
World, I knew none.
Her pain, I knew all.
For, the womb was my universe.
For, it was my way to make her start her journey of sacrifices.

And, years later,
Here I am under my own shelter,
Because, mom is my love
She, my family.
People, I know none,
For, she is my universe.




Untouched soul she was,
Very young,
Very sensitive.

Pretty face she had,
Heart had scars.

No friends, no acquaintances.

Pretty face she had,
Heart had scars.

Poems were love,
Who knew, she could relate to each?

Pretty face she had,
Heart had scars.

She could not,
She just could not,
Deal with the separation.

For her,
Her parents, believe you me, they were the best couple.
For her,
Her parents, believe you me, were the only sensible people she knew.
Ten, she was then.

“You come with me”
“Mumma, when will I meet dad?”

They proved to be the most insensible ones,
When they both just unanimously answered,
“Maybe, never”

Love was not what her parents showed to her they had,
Love was what she did to them,
For it was for them, that she suffered,
For it was for them, that she could not tell her mom, that dad was equally important.

Untouched soul she was,
Very young,
Very sensitive.

Pretty face she had,
Heart had scars.

How strange this place is?


How strange this place is?

Homelike sometimes,
Jupiter sometimes.
Familiar sometimes,
Alienated sometimes.

Terra sometimes,
Sky sometimes.
Low sometimes,
Cloud9 sometimes.

Black sometimes,
White sometimes.
Detestable sometimes,
Loveable sometimes.

Carnival sometimes,
Haunted house sometimes.
Excited sometimes,
Petrifying sometimes.

Forever21 sometimes,
Graveyard sometimes.
Crowded sometimes,
Empty sometimes.

How strange this place is?
Impalpable, always.

How strange this place is?
Mine, always?

Ugliness too lies in the eyes of the beholder!


How easy it is to hate someone, moreover how easy it is to continue that grudge for years.
“She looks so arrogant” , wow, do we choose to eat that milk chocolate because it is fairer than that dark chocolate , no right? How judgemental we all are.
“He stopped talking to me first, he is a retard” . Did you try to mend things, he is a retard and so are you, he stopped and you never tried. Ten years later, in a coffee shop, that ego still stops you both to talk.
‘That picture reminds me of that bitch, delete it’ . Will deleting allow you to move on, will you not ever think of her again?
Being judgemental is not wrong. Yes, people are an epitome of fashion disaster sometimes and you judge them, that is absolutely fine. Own that judgement. But,the fact is, only if you have the courage to take it if you suck at any point of time or if you are a target. Take it in the most beautiful way.
Ever wondered, that this life is not a difficult exam that is mandatory to pass. Neither it is the race that you have to win, sometimes, that race you were defeated in will give you more memories than the one in which you won.
It is a journey of regrets and apologies, smiles and tears and most importantly, helloes and good byes.
You also can spend all your life not hating anyone. It is not mandatory to have a ‘I hate them’ list, no, it is not mandatory to have people so that you can waste 3 hours a day and 1065 hours every year of your life to talk shit about those handful of people.
How crazy it is to say that we get annoyed when we see that person, it is in him. No, it is not in him.
If beauty can lie within the eyes of the beholder, then why not ugliness?
Some people are hard to love but wasn’t it an amazing feeling when you passed that hard exam in your life? Till how long will that person affect you? Till how long will you keep thinking of her as a bitch? The day you realise that how this is a symbol of immaturity, you would probably grow up.
Ever wondered how easy can loving someone be?

We die everyday!


Death is inevitable and so is life.
The strangest of all is that if we live everyday, we die everyday. Remember, the day you were eating chocolates and ice creams at 4 in the morning and crying looking at the walls trying to not let it all out? You know what were you trying to do, darling, you were trying to live again, you were trying to fool that innocent soul inside you that everything’s gonna be alright, you were trying to give it assurance that you yourself were searching for, you were trying to give life to that dead soul of yours.
You died the day, you gave your soul what it was looking for, a fake hope. Everything cannot be alright, stop living in the virtual world of fairies where everything has a happy ending by the end of the day. Nothing will be alright ever. You will fail in life, you will get your heart broken, not once but maybe twice, you will miss the most awaited episode of your favourite series, no thing would be the way you want. But you don’t have to die every time, instead you have to relive and prepare yourself for worse. What you have to tell your soul is that things will never be perfect ,learn to deal with everything,and take it as it comes. Don’t give it false hopes, don’t give it a platform to expect and feel dead later. Learn to live the right way so that when death comes it is for the first time. And, trust me, your soul would accept that death as easily it accepts life everyday.

Is it not the fault of time?


Is it the fault of time?

That, from being immature and crazy they have all become so sensible and mature.
That they, no more are retards with me.

That, they are so busy in their lives that phone calls aren’t important anymore.
That, different cities matter to them the most.

That, promises of early times are now just figure of speeches.
That, time has changed them so much.

Yet, I am still standing here,
As close as a phone call.
Still a retard.
Counting the promises
Counting the memories.

Recalling the immaturity and insanity we all shared,
Yes, I’m standing right here
But, time, it changed them all. 

No darling, you dare not say, they changed,
They did not.

Because, I’m still that immature to ask:
Is it not the fault of time?

Choice or chance?



Can you see that little kid smiling there? Innocence reflects in his eyes.
After few years, he’ll be all grown up, no? With what? Less innocence, maybe? Or more generosity, maybe?
He may turn out to be a good doctor, maybe?
Or, maybe not?
Maybe, a black sheep of the herd?
Or, maybe not?

What did you know when you entered this world?
In this early stage of life, we are usually busy learning not we wish to but what others decide to teach us, most of the time. Yes, I am definitely talking about upbringing here.
Yes darling, no one was born as an arsonist or a rapist. It is not a choice but a chance. God given lineage can be broken. Excuses always save humans, no?
Doing wrong and blaming destiny, how convenient?
But did you ever think that no one was also born as that beautiful soul, sitting beside you, at this moment, maybe?
But, then it is not a chance but a choice.
Ponder upon it. What if you decide to learn what is the best for you and wait, you need to be sensible enough to decide that too.
And what if, you adapt the best habits?
Yes, don’t die as an arsonist or a rapist. It will no longer be a chance but surely a choice.