I am trying

Not to be seen

For in this moment

I feel too small;

I see him draped

In a raven shawl,

Effortlessly being one

With the night sky,

But I, on the contrary,

Feel too out there,

Not blending in

With anything at all!

Should I sleep

Two-thirds of

The year away,

And try once again

In the Fall?


“True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.”
Rick Warren, The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here for?

Featured image from Pexels

A Lonely Mind

It must be lonely to live

With astute thoughts floating

Inside your brilliant mind,

But I am too shy to confess

That I cannot understand

Most of the words that pour

Out of your soul, but the tone

Of your voice makes me believe

That there must be something

Quite meaningful and deep

Behind the words you speak,

And most of the times

I am a little scared to

See you talk the way you do

As if all of this time

You had been dying to babble

To your heart’s content,

But were held back only

By the lack of available ears,

For I know that you deserve

A much better pair than mine

Which lead to places

Far beyond the confines of

Two narrow canals in the skull,

To the areas of brain where

Concrete sentences are broken

Down into snippets that make

Perfect sense, and to regions

Where memories are made,

Kept, stored, retrieved,

And remade from time to time—

I wonder if the blank look

In my eyes gives me away,

I wonder how many perplexed

Faces you talk to in a day?

This is unfair, this is not okay!


“I’m a misunderstood genius.”
“What’s misunderstood?”
“Nobody thinks I’m a genius.”
Bill Watterson

Featured image from Pexels

Poles Apart


we do not have a common narrative;

when my world was upside down,

yours was the right way up,

and what was left was not all right!


My every little thought

gets bigger, goes berserk,

and dies.

Your every small gesture

gets noticed, goes places,

and multiplies.

My every sombre word

gets mumbled, goes awry,

and dies.

Your every feeble idea

gets better, goes viral,

and multiplies.


I apologise

For apologising

All the time;

You apologise

For me not

Apologising enough.


“Little Alice fell down the hole, bumped her head and bruised her soul.”
Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

Featured image from Pexels

Red Roses, Blue Violets and You

When I was a little girl,

I had wanted to be just like you

But then I was told that

Not all the red roses were red,

And that most of the violets

Were purple, not blue;

I had foolishly concluded

That everything about you

Might not be worth

Following through with,

But I secretly knew

That if I had come closer

To being like you,

I would have discovered

The sugar to be

Less sweet than you!


“. . . Atticus, he was real nice. . . .” His hands were under my chin, pulling up the cover, tucking it around me. “Most people are, Scout, when you finally see them.”

Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird

Featured image from Pexels


I hope I’d be able to compose a proper concrete poem some day, but until then, I shall keep having fun experimenting.😊

The concrete poem in the image:

scattered words

if arranged

in a neat, little pile

can fall

off the page


On Hiatus

I wish I could

Take a break

From myself,

Hit snooze,

Put my thoughts

On mute

For a short while;

Be awake,

But not move an inch,

As if lost

In a dream

Too wild,

Nothing rings

On the other end

When I dial,

My mailbox

Gets no note

From me,

And all the things

That I keep aside

In a pile,

Stay there,

And do not fall over;

I wish I had

An on/off switch

With a tiny, red light

Above it,

So if I ever

Go out like that

Someone out there

Could bring me back.


We were all lost and okay with not being found for a while.”
Adam Silvera


I am walking
As if I am
A little too fond
Of gravity,
With my arms
Shaking and going
Numb under
The weight
Of everything
I am supposed
To memorise,
And my shoulders
Aching beneath
The ugly straps
Of a heavy bag,
Housing a
Huge, discontinued
From the market,
Shabby laptop,
Yet not spacious
Enough to hold
The books
In my arms,
So when a tiny
Pencil that I
Use as a bookmark,
Falls out of
One of the books,
And someone
Not too far away
Informs me about it,
My mind completely
Falls apart!
I bend down,
Slowly and with
A great difficulty,
To pick it up,
And begrudgingly
Thank the stranger
Who had ensured
That I would not
Even try to ignore
The soft thud of
A pencil that small—
He reminds me
Of the way
This world works…
We carry our weight,
All on our own,
Holding on to it
Lest we lose
Our way;
Forced to carry
All of it,
And not allowed
A chance to drop
Any of it off,
Not allowed
A chance
To be a little lost.


“You remember too much,
my mother said to me recently.
Why hold onto all that? And I said,
Where can I put it down?”
Anne Carson

Featured Image from Pexels


Why should I run away

From things that can

Never outrun me anyway?

It will neither make

It a race, nor will it

Make me a runner.

I would rather stay stuck

In a pavilion

With my non-athletic heart

Which can put to shame

A marathon drummer!


“I feel sorry for anyone who is in a place where he feels strange and stupid.”
Lois Lowry, The Giver

Featured image from Pexels

Patched Up

I feel as if the universe

Is trying to reassemble me;

Every morning it takes

The weariness out of my bones

And puts it into words

I dare not say aloud,

My appetite for things

I am not supposed to eat

Is being satiated by

Everything that ends up

Consuming me instead,

My life is ever so slightly

Being infused with a hint

Of healthy indifference,

And I believe that

It is more than what I

Could have asked for.

It is not easy to

Put your broken self together

If the universe decides

Not to be on your side!


Get busy living or get busy dying.”

Stephen King


There are a few of us

Who may never

Go too far

Just because

We refuse to keep

Fireflies in a jar,

We forget to

Blow out candles

And cannot

Wish upon a star;

We keep the

Curtains drawn

And never leave

The doors ajar,

And even when

The stakes are high

We do not raise

The bar and choose

To stay subpar-

Not a small price

To pay to stay

Who we truly are!”




I prove myself wrong

By being wrong about

How wrong everything

Actually is;

What is wrong with me?


I walk away from myself

And walk right into

What I had walked

Out of;

I need to walk it off.


I see you crying

Over someone crying

Over someone other

Than you;

I cry at the absurdity of it!


“People who didn’t need people needed people around to know that they were the kind of people who didn’t need people.”
Terry Pratchett


Time stands perfectly still

And it looks the way

Fine dust looks sometimes;

Dispersed in the rays

Of sunlight sneaking

Into a dimly lit room

Through a slit between

Two long, dark curtains;

You are the only one

In motion, unbothered by

The theatricality of everything

That stands transfixed

Around you, as if

You already know how to

Turn these quiet,

Suspended moments into

Life-size stretches of time!


“Time is the longest distance between two places.”
Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie

Featured Image from Pexels



For someone else’s yellows,

I barter my usual blues,

My head has no trouble falling

For this subtle subterfuge.


I sleep my way out

Of my problems,

But my poor problems

Never get to sleep.


If what you chase

Starts to run

Towards you

For a change,

Would you then

Run into it,

Or would it

Run over you?


Do you know

What rhymes

With orange?


You can rhyme


With yourself,

And still be called

A poem, albeit,

A whimsical one!


There is nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact.”

Arthur Conan Doyle

Featured image from Pexels


sometimes there is nothing

that I like to do more

than to sit cross-legged

on the cold floor

in an attempt to be free,

in an effort to ignore

everything that is always

on the other side of the door,

everything that I shouldn’t

let besmirch me anymore,

so that when I stand back up,

I can feel taller than before.


I am on Instagram now as _aaysid. Looking forward to read more from fellow bloggers (who seem more like pen friends to me now) on that platform as well.😊

Strangely Familiar

I am afraid that I

might be forgetting

what you had looked liked;

the colour of your hair,

the bounce in your step,

a hint of quietude

in your voice,

are just a few features

that I have to try

very hard to recall,

and last night,

I slept with a fear

that I would not recognize

the version of you

that appears in some

of my lucid dreams,

and a few memories

that I have of you

are losing substance

as quickly as any

of my unprocessed thoughts;

in spite of all that,

I have no trouble

recollecting how generous

was your gentle heart

and how wise were

all of your words,

so I keep conjuring

you up from

all that you were,

and all that I

can no longer recall,

and you always

seem strangely familiar!



My solemn internal monologue

Is gradually morphing

Into feeble stand-up comedy,

And my rational thoughts

Do not know how to duck yet!


“Never miss a good chance to shut up.”
Will Rogers

Image by Pexels from Pixabay


we are the pink

in the black of the night,

a faint whisper

in the ear-splitting noise,

a whole paragraph

squeezed in a single line,

the evening primroses

in the sunflower fields,

a paper napkin

not folded, left misaligned;

are we the folks

ahead of our time?


“Where’s your will to be weird?”
Jim Morrison

Featured image from Pexels

The Rebels

Deep down, you wish

To become a person

Who no longer

Stifles screams and lets them

Rush out of a thin

Slit between thick vocal cords

That have grown used to

A life of staying shut;

You wish to rebel

Only to see where

It takes you to

And what it does

To those who have been

Watching you struggle

Foolishly all this time;

You wait for a rebirth,

Because a lifetime

Is not enough to try things

That could tear

The very fabric you have

Been weaved into,

So all you can do

Is steadily slip out,

One little thread at a time;

It might create a ripple

Large enough to topple

At least a few things over.


“If ever it’s necessary to ride the bandwagon, it’s done with one leg swinging out and eyes scoping the fields.”
Criss Jami, Killosophy

Photo by RODNAE Productions from Pexels


You are at a point in time

Where a small change

In the way the day unfolds

Is enough to unravel you;

When the mere sight

Of glistening post-rain roads

Cracks you open,

And you come apart

As soon as you catch

A whiff of damp seclusion,

Way before your brain

Can process the earthy

Fragrance of it to solidify

The old memory traces,

And when the fragmented

Clouds above your head

Refuse to let the sun

Burn its brilliance upon

Your clouded retinas,

Your repose falls to pieces—

You are your own weather.


It rained here today, and I had listened to a breathtaking short story by James Joyce (hence, the quote) during my lunch break. The latter event was the highlight of the day.

“He lived a little distance from his body, regarding his own acts with doubtful sideglances.”

A Painful Case, James Joyce

Featured image from Pixabay

(Un)wise Advice

You cannot go back

To where you

Have come from,

For it might take

Way too long,

And might even

Prove you wrong;

In a party for one

You should not bring

Your thoughts along,

Even with a mind

That has withdrawn

Into itself, you

Can still claim

Your right to belong-

What you cannot

Say out loud,

You should not

Put in your song!


“I’ll take crazy over stupid any day.”

Joss Whedon

The Knocks

some knocks at the door

go unanswered

for some doors

do not have peepholes;

some knocks at the door

get answered,

but some doors

do not have doorknobs.


“A knock on the door you hear, a knock on your head you don’t.”

Dixie Waters

Featured image from Pexels

A Recap

It has been another foggy year, and apart from a few vivid moments, I cannot recall much. I am thankful for that, though. Why would I want to be haunted by the memory of everything?

I do not have time to make the “Best of…” lists this time around, and I am not quite sure if I have enough items to list anyway. As always, I am grateful for good health, family, friends, and being able to earn a living. I hope and pray that everyone gets to have these things in life, and a lot more.

For people like me, who can express themselves better on paper, this platform has been a blessing. I am happy to have met and befriend the kind people here, and I am grateful to have an opportunity to not only read good things and look at lovely photos but also to learn passively. May the artist in all of you always have the right canvas and a kind audience!

To recap what I have done here this year, I have chosen the titles of some of my most viewed posts to compose a poem:

I thought we were galaxies apart,

Oblivious to the knocks

On our estranged hearts,

Contentedly lost and held back

By our false sense of integrity,

Out cold and out of order,

Arithmetically unsound

And drunk on the idea

Of escapism; sleepy-eyed,

We let a thought spiral

Deepen the dissociation we felt,

But we were not alone

In being conflicted about

Embracing the other normal,

Small and restricted,

With a hint of evanescence,

And a little wistfulness,

We were getting there,

Building a home in the skies

We are right here!


Thank you for being here. Have a great new year!😊

Never Again

I wish

There was a way

To cut through

Some things,

Skip through

Some things,

Unlive through

Some things,

And most of all,

A way to

Never have to

Go through

Some things

Ever again!


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