IMG_20170917_001444 The dream that stirred me up from sleep,
Beads of sweat, which made me creep;

Last night’s song that the DJ played,
The count of drinks while the young hips swayed;

The pin of card to pay the bill,
Name of the guy who asked us to chill;

The one who put us all in cab,
Who also offered to pay the tab;

The dreamy kiss in a dopey state,
And the food that we ate;

The gentle arms that put me to sleep,
The silent caress as I weep;

Everything is now a blur,
But my love for you will never differ.


The secret life

IMG_20170912_003300 I sleep beneath a dark blanket,

Where I am the mistress of my dreams!

I pull off the mask that I always wear,

And take a breath of my secret life,

The one where I’m nobodys disappointment,

And the one where I can walk in my own skin!

There might be no people here to ask me if I’m fine,

But here I’ve souls who would listen to whatever I rant.

They have no voice, they have no form,

But they have life, though an imaginary one.

There is water to drink and food to eat,

And no empty stomachs going to bed.

Here, we don’t trade our flesh for a piece of meat,

Or dance amidst a drunken crowd.

Our bed doesn’t smell of strangers,

And our windows are never curtained.

Here, our toes dance to the rhythm of our hearts

And our voices giggle with nobody to judge.

The schools do not ask for parents’ name,

And the birth certificates do not have a column for caste.

Here, the sky is golden with a black moon,

And there are red stars which would twinkle and fall.

It is always night in this forgone land,

But the night is bright with no devils to fight.

The clock doesn’t move till I wish them to,

And the night doesn’t end till I wake up,

It doesn’t change like our real world,

But, in the end, the land I dream needs to sleep too!

Cos, like me, the night awaits the dawn of a new day too!

The Dream

I dreamt my life being sorted,

And I wished to pause that dream,

But the time could never be frozen,

Or the stream that changed its course.

I dreamt of clear sky,

And stars that could brighten my night,

But the dream got suddenly clouded,

And the tears began to pour.

I dreamt of greeny garden,

And bees that buzz on flowers,

But the dream turned pale and scarlet,

For came the season of fall.

I dreamt of lands without border,

And wars that needn’t be fought,

But the dream turned into a nightmare,

As cannons began to be launched.

I dreamt of having a dream,

And running behind it to win,

But the dream remained a dream,

Cos, in my land it’s a sin to dream.

I dreamt of men without disease,

And sadness that could be cured,

But my dream at once got plagued,

As I slipped into the sleep of death!

Phoenix’s soul 

​As I take a stroll along the windward lane,

I see a silhouette of a burning bird.

I rush to see if I could help,

But find myself gawking at the hot ashes.

As the ashes swivelled with the gushing breeze,

I saw a spark that rose with it.

Was it the part of a departing soul,

Or the birth of a blooming life.

What a wonderful sight it was to see,

The ending of one and the beginning of the other.

Phoenix is what I want to be.

As I wish my dead soul turn into a hope filled heart.

The right call

​All these days, I’ve been living a lie,

Which hurts me more than anything could.

All the snow, which froze my thoughts,

Have left me now cold at heart.

All that light, that shine above in my sky,

Is all what I am left with now.

At times my mind knows what is right,

At times, it’s my heart which says what’s wrong,

All these days I’ve taken the mid path,

But today I’ll be breaking all the chains..

Why doesn’t the Sun that light up the sky warm me up?

Why doesn’t the wind that fill the air around kiss my cheek?

Why doesn’t the night hug me tight as I dream?

I’ve planned to move ahead, watching it all go away.

Cos in my heart, the time has come to pick the fallen part!

The bent nickel

IMG_20170829_230820 The bent nickel in your purse,
A change that changed your life.
How many times was it tossed,
To end up in that wallet of yours.
Something you wish not to trade
For it holds a memory of your past.
Every time you pick it up,
I see you press it against your lips.
The mild scent of the copper penny
And the cologne of your distant past
Is all I get from your touch,
As you press the coin against my palm.
I could hear your heart beat out loud,
As you decide to part with the past.
Trust me now, for your past will stay safe with me,
Cos every nickel and crumpled note,
Carry a tale of the fallen stars!

Dying dream

IMG_20170820_005320What is it that wakes you up in the middle of the night?
The eerie world or the scary gut?
The messed up mind or the bouncy heart?
The spineless fear or the ruthless wind?
Is it the shadow of the tree,
Or the hooting of an owl?
Why is it always the night which is the hardest?
Is it cos of the lonely moon?
Or because of the endless dream?
Is dreaming fine with open eyes,
Cos I couldn’t sleep and the dream wouldn’t stop!

The middle road

IMG_20170729_002248It wasn’t black, it wasn’t white. It was grey, the democrat.

It wasn’t a comma, it wasn’t a full stop. It was semi-colon, the optimist.

It wasn’t a smile, it wasn’t a frown. It was nod, the dubious.

It wasn’t a walk, it wasn’t a run. It was jog, the diplomat.

It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t an answer. It was maieutic, the rhetorician.

It wasn’t me, it wasn’t you. It was us, the team.

It wasn’t hot, it wasn’t cold. It was warm, the comforter.

It wasn’t the moon, it wasn’t the star. It was sky, the host.

The Confined Confidant

IMG_20170727_132426Do you regret the times when your fingers kissed my skin?
Every time you touched me, my heart skipped a beat;
It wasn’t for the love you showed me, but for the one you hid.
Had we not met, I wouldn’t have had to hold your secrets.
I thought I could correct your errors,
But I never dreamt of being a means to hide your emotions.
When there were so many stories waiting to be told, you zipped my mouth with your touch.
I feel like a book waiting to be published;
Just because the guts you had to touch me, was rarely seen with my friend ‘enter’.
How I wish you had the same power as your words!!

Yours lovingly,
Back space.
(A key waiting to unlock your story)

An open letter to Chester Bennington

textgram_1500623870To the man who rescued many trapped souls through his songs.

Has the song forgotten its word,
Has the word forgotten its rhythm?
Has the rhythm forgotten it’s beat;
Has the beat forgotten its pace,
Has the pace forgotten its time?
Cos it’s time for your voice to travel through time.

Dear Chester,
Hope your journey to the other side sees some light. No, am not going to say R.I.P, cause you continue to live in our lives with your voice and music.
I haven’t listened to your songs before. But, the first thing I saw this morning was how people around me were shocked with your demise. They confessed about their other side and how your music relieved their pain. I searched for your songs and listened to them. Only then did I realise, your music was not plain noise, but a medicine to the broken and a home to the lost. You put your heart in that song, and the soul came out by itself. You said you put your trust on me, and was it my fault to have not told you that we trust you too? You asked for reasons but left us today without giving us one. Every time somebody heard voices in their head, they listened to you. But did you forget to listen to your own songs? Isn’t it an irony, the one who healed the trapped, couldn’t heal himself?! Were we too busy unchaining ourselves that we didn’t see you getting chained? Were the demons too harsh, that you had to leave us all just with a memory? In the path of searching, did you get yourself lost? Oh young man, you seem to have freed yourself from the voice’s clutches, but now where will we go to rescue ourselves? Cos, hearing you now, seems like a distant dream! Catch you on the other side, cos sometimes goodbye’s the only way.

With love,
A numbing soul.