it may leave

a little scar, but

we should leave

before the leaves

can leave

the fragile branches

that leave

them feeling a little

frail as well;

we should leave

it at that

before it leaves

us feeling left out

from whatever’s

left of the world

we once thought

would never

leave us alone.


“I don’t want just words. If that’s all you have for me, you’d better go.”
F. Scott Fitzgerald

Featured image from Pexels

No Winners Here

Why do spider-like,

Dark apparitions

Run away scared

Only when you

Decide not to

Run away first?

When both begin

To lose at

A game for two,

It gets layered-

A layer over layer

Of profound inanity,

Until one of you

Breaks down

And loudly declares

That it is foolish

To chase after

Your own nightmares,

That it is foolish

To be chased by

Your own nightmares.


“Strange, I thought, how you can be living your dreams and your nightmares at the very same time.”
Ransom Riggs, Hollow City

Featured image by Pexels

The Afternoon Sun

I know that I

Was not supposed

To wake you up,

But it has been days

Since you last took in

The afternoon sun,

And I have heard

It can make a difference-

Sometimes the things

Which happen between

The first signs of light

And absolute darkness

Are worth waking up for

From a deliberate,

Drawn out slumber!


“There are always loose ends in real life.”
Robert Galbraith, The Silkworm

Featured image from Pexels


the clouds burst

at forlorn places

already soaking wet

because of many

a rivers cried before

the ruthless storms

had even arrived;

how can the eyes turned

skyward remain dry

when the cold,

pelting rain reminds

them of subdued feelings

which can be

buried again only if

cried out along

with the crying sky?


“I woke to the sound of rain.”

Sylvia Plath

Workplace Woes

It is funny

How little sense

It all makes

When you are bored

Out of your mind,

And you find

Yourself leaving your

Mortal thoughts behind

To embrace the beauty

Of ill-defined,

But it is nothing

Unusual for it happens

All the time…

It seems that we

Hold meetings

Only to waste

Each other’s time.


“I like work: it fascinates me. I can sit and look at it for hours.”
Jerome K. Jerome

Image by annmariephotography from Pixabay


I am afraid that some day

I’d run out of things

to say out loud,

but every time

I begin to speak

I feel like as if

all the words

have been said before,

but I utter them anyway,

and feel bad

afterwards for speaking

against my better judgement;

maybe running out of

words to say out loud

wouldn’t be that

bad after all!


“No matter how far you travel, you can never get away from yourself.”
Haruki Murakami

Featured image from Pexels


Sometimes the nature takes it upon itself to remind people like us that there is a world outside the four walls we have willfully trapped ourselves in.

The monsoon season is in full swing, with all its beauty and horror.

A few photographs from today.


Quiet? Not quite.

there is no respite even when

the voices begin to fade,

for unsettling whispers

then replace the brutally

honest conversations,

and the incessant noise

in the head woefully remains,

oh, what a shame!


“Don’t gobblefunk around with words.”
Roald Dahl, The BFG

Featured image from Pexels


We blink

The maroon

Hours away,

Wallowing in

Shared disbelief,

Slowly running

Out of

Storage space

By adding

Untruths to

Old memories

Which were

Made when

Things were

Not this blue.


Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage.”
Ray Bradbury

Featured image from Pexels


there is nothing worse than

a crisp realisation,

that too, a little too late,

which makes it

a little too unfortunate,

that all of this time

you have been more of

a prison than a prisoner!


“I am afraid. Not of life, or death, or nothingness, but of wasting it as if I had never been.”

Daniel Keyes, Flowers for Algernon

Featured image from Pexels

The Rain People

not all clouds

are born to rain,

but the ones that do

are quite fortunate

for they know what

they are supposed to do;

some people are

like such clouds,

they, too, are born

to rain away—

they know what

they are supposed to do.


Featured photograph was captured by me.



I wonder when exactly

Everything became

An act of:

Packing your bags

And leaving,

Leaving your bags

And leaving,



A smoke machine

Suddenly malfunctions

And black glitter

Shoots out instead;

Another pretty accident

That no one cares about.


I do not want to

End up like

A lone lipstick

In my purse;


In the face

Of utter inutility!


“There are times to stay put, and what you want will come to you, and there are times to go out into the world and find such a thing for yourself.”

Lemony Snicket

Featured image by Pexels


Why do I find myself

Only a single tear away

From fleeing a conversation

I find myself trapped in?

Why cannot I spare for myself

The same amount of kindness

That I seem to have aplenty

For anyone who is not even

On a verge of tears?


“You always say such lovely things to me, Red. Do you say them to yourself?”
Talia Hibbert

Featured image from Pexels


She unseals, unfolds, refolds, and seals again

A letter of long gone joy and outworn pain,

Engulfed in a wave of unprecedented fear,

She hurriedly wipes away a lonesome tear,

For the bygone memories still posed a threat

Like the undealt cards of a misplaced bet!


“We are products of our past, but we don’t have to be prisoners of it.”
Rick Warren

Featured Image from Pexels


Sometimes the only way

To break the ice

Is to stage a fight;

To slip and fall all over

The vast expanse

Of time which stands

Frozen beneath your feet,

Inside your ears,

And behind the glazed

Look in your eyes—

We can pretend

That nothing says love

Like shards of ice

Sticking out of a heart

That once was afire!


“But that afternoon he asked himself, with his infinite capacity for illusion, if such pitiless indifference might not be a subterfuge for hiding the torments of love.

Gabriel García Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

Featured image from Pexels


I had a perfect retort,

But I chose

The less traveled road;

Held it all back

And swallowed it whole.

I have a nasty heartburn

Ever since then,

And sharp words

Keep coming back

To injure my throat!


“Everything I think of now is too rude to actually say.”
Craig Ferguson

Featured image from Pexels

False Memory

real time events

are no longer of value

for we are trapped

in a moment

which was never

as lucid as we

recall it to be,

the older we feel

the harder it gets

not to live

in the past

which was not

what it now

seems to be,

which never was

what it could

have been; what

it should have been.


“The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.”
L.P. Hartley

Featured image from Pexels



Fickle encounters,

A twitching eyelid—

A keepsake,

A stitch


No accident.

You are a key

In the ignition;

An integral switch.

Not a glitch

In the very thing.

No accident.


Peace can be found

In a loud moment

For all the noise

After some time

Tends to fade away,

As if you

Were on the road

Even when your mind

Was on the railway.


Cobwebbed bulbs

Clear desk drawers

Vacant vases

No apples in a bowl

With a person

As empty as

The house.


“If you board the wrong train, it is no use running along the corridor in the other direction.”

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Featured image from Pexels

The Considerate You

You say that

You do not care

But it all comes untrue

When you bring

Your head back

From wherever nice

It wanders off to,

To be there for those

Who have never done

The same for you!


“We only have what we give.”
Isabel Allende

Featured image from Pexels


you lounge around,

sunk into the couch

without a care

in the world,

while I am always

wrapped in a silver foil

all set to be baked;

we may have come

from similar soils,

but only one of us

knows what it is like

to live in the heat

of everyday life

only to be dropped

like a hot potato!


“Not everyone can be a truffle. Most of us are potatoes. And a potato is a very good thing to be.”

Massimo Bottura

Rained Upon

When black ink rains

From the parchment sky,

A mist engulfs the ground,

It stains the unstained raven,

And keeps the mottled brown;

Such downpour can cover up

Strange, little stories

In the old, disowned towns.


“The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.”

Arthur Conan Doyle

Sadly Similar

We try not to acknowledge

How frighteningly similar we are,

Not because we have the same

Eye colour, length of hair

Or general disdain for anything

That is unlike ourselves out there,

But only because how similar

The lumps in our throats are!

Such resemblance is not only

Hugely unsettling, but it also seems

Exceptionally unfair – to see a person

In the light of their problems,

And to have no solace to offer,

No comfort to spare.”


“I don’t damsel well. Distress, I can do. Damseling? Not so much.”
James Patterson

Featured image from Pexels


I find myself

Drowning in the auburn

Of the morning sky,

And it feels the way

Dry summer heat feels

Against wet skin;

I am disappearing

Into every thing

That stands out

But seems out of place

At the same time,

I know that

Everything tends to

Get worse before it

Eventually gets better,

But I cannot figure out

Where I am right now

In that timeline.



Dedicated to my hardworking and selfless mother, and to all the mothers like her.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers, motherly sisters, motherly fathers, and to anyone who’s like a mother to someone! 😊❤


How can we be the same person?

I ask myself that

At least four times a week,

For I have never woken up

With wet sand in my shoes,

I have never fallen asleep

With shoes on my feet,

I have never transitioned

From sleep to wakefulness

Peacefully enough to care

About the state of my feet,

And strangely enough,

I have never been to the beach!


“The reason I talk to myself is because I’m the only one whose answers I accept.”
George Carlin

Featured image from Pixabay

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