Friday, 26 May 2017


If I know I have found you,
Why can I not find the words
To tell you I am going to keep you
Why can I not write poems about you
To tell you about the warm heaviness
That swells my heart, only thinking about you
Every time I try,
Look for metaphors for your perfect bright eyes
Words stop at the pit of my throat and choke me,
Knock the wind out of my system.
Every time I try,
Compare your embrace to sunshine
A feverish warmth surges through me
Making it impossible
For me to scrawl in ink, across pages.
Words run through my head
Like a hurricane, I cannot make sense of
I have forgotten the art
Of painting you
In colours so vibrant and permanent
That you will spend the rest of your life living in them.
I do not know anymore
That overwhelming fervour of 3 am
Converting the thud of my heart to art,
Leaving behind indelible marks,
I have forgotten to rhyme like a sane poet
The one good thing I knew-
Bleeding onto blank pages
Painting them black, in clichés-
Now escapes me.
For when I look at you
In your rawest form, I just see you.
Your eyes don't remind me of oceans,
Your smile of the crescent moon
Your hair doesn't feel like soft wet grass
And your embrace doesn't smell of the hills.
For when I look at you,
I am reminded of nothing
I have ever seen before
Even remotely close to being as beautiful
As you.
My limited vocabulary and even limited experiences
Cannot do justice
To the phenomenon of you.

Tuesday, 9 May 2017

Intergalactic Synchronised Swimming

Lay me down tonight
Peep into my eyes
Claw open my mouth,
The stairway to my insides
Look at the universe I contain inside.
Marvel at the darkness
Spilling over with diamonds shimmering,
Burning with stories, age old
Growing only beautiful
Each passing moment.
Look deeper and stare 
Stare at the bursting colours
Growing brighter with fading memories
Leaving behind hues
Of long lost reminiscent touches.
Dive, drown in my universe
Find the moon resting in a left corner
Always burning, a little scarred,
What even the grayest clouds could never mar.
Gape at it sustaining a whole universe
A universe with its little streams of water.
Trace with your fingers the tangible
Trace rocky soils, sprouting weeds
Pluck colours and fragrances off me,
Decorate yourself,
Breathe in the clear sky and the dewy grass
Immerse yourself completely, surrender wholly.
Clench close fistful of diamonds
Enter me a moment, close your eyes
Let yourself be the universe I contain inside
Surrounded by the universe I carry outside.

Monday, 24 April 2017


Will you fancy sitting down with me?
Mend all your rules only because you claim to love me?
The man who sees in black and white,
Will you indulge in grey for me?
Take my face in your hands
Stare down my eyes, gape open my soul
And find my blood reeking of regret and repentance,
Will you find it in your heart to forgive me?
Will you let your head be quiet tonight?
Listen to your heart scream whispers, the only rhythm it knows,
Put your head to my heart
And hear it scream apologies, a rhythm you have never heard before. 
Will you trace my tearstained cheeks
And find the will to wipe them clean,
Like the memories that haunt us and keep you away from me?
Allow time to tend the daggers I sowed, love
Watch me pluck each one out,
And decorate with flowers the holes I dug
Will you fancy sitting down with me?

Thursday, 23 February 2017

Greys to Greens


Tall buildings greyed my mornings
The smokey air reeked in my lungs
And cramped roads never were home to me.
The ghosts of sun rays
Splitting across the sky
Hitting the horizon in multiple hues
Lurked in overhead metro rides
Until I did find home
On the other side of a fenced wall
Sharing smoke at 3 am.
Tall buildings still grey my mornings
And these cramped roads are not my home
My home is no more confined
To spaces and skies and grass
My home now has a face.
Its deep eyes are dark forests
I'd often get lost in
Only to find myself
Its hair, the soft wet grass
My fingers cannot resist.
Its embrace smells of the fresh air
My lungs yearned for
And its laugh now echoes
In each crevice of my body
Like the lullaby of that nightingale
On my windowsill.
And its smile,
My crescent moon,
My solace 
In the dead of the night.

Friday, 25 November 2016


I woke up half an hour late today
Hit the snooze button
And went back to bed
I don't remember what my alarm clock sounds like anymore
Your patient voice no more echoed in my ears
I was never a morning person, you see
How could I ever be
The crescent moon lay inside you 
And you lay right beside me
Your mornings started way too early for me
Your angelic voice would hit me like a serenade, too sweet
But instead I'd pull you in
Wrap myself around your brilliant light
In my dark bubble as you tried to break free, giggling

I woke up half an hour late today
Dismissing my alarm clock into background noise
Waiting for my serenade
Until I was jolted up by reality
Your mornings now will still be too early for me,
Just your mornings now will never be for me
I will still never be a morning person, you see
But wake up just the same
A little too late
The remnants of that moonless darkness
Shaped like you, stretched across my face
I will lay in bed all by myself
For a little too long
As your voice slowly becomes a distant memory

I woke up half an hour late today
And stayed in bed
Until my memory brought
That sweet serenade back into my ears
And pushed me off the bed
But one day I will learn
To wake up to myself again.

Thursday, 24 November 2016

Beautiful Lies

When your thin lips
Break into a goofy smile
Touching those warm deep eyes,
Like the ocean on a June afternoon
Just right enough to dive in,
It feels like the sun breaking from the clouds,
Shooting rays of silver light
Upon a once grey sky.
When your broad chest,
Like the cliff the waves of my ocean come crashing back to,
Engulfs my smallness,
Like a warm blanket
On a January night,
It feels like cold water
Being pumped out of my lifeless lungs,
Turning my lips pink again.
When you rest your plump nose,
Like the plush pillow my forehead loves,
Against mine, looking down
Into my hyperventilating eyes,
Like the break of dawn
Upon an enraged stormy night,
It feels like every atom in my body
Is pausing and meditating,
Finally resting.
When I put my hand against your heart,
Like the universe containing galaxies after galaxies,
Your hard chest with mush inside
Becomes my home,
One I cannot let go of.
I will soon run out of similes and metaphors
Just like I will soon run out of longing and sighs
Because time, my friend, heals
Wounds that eyes miss,
That science cannot reach
And time, my friend, etches each memory onto the brain
Like scars on skin.
But as long as I haven't run out of time,
I shall not stop
Painting your picture beautiful in twisted words,
A little different each time
Like pink clouds on lilac sky.

Tuesday, 15 November 2016

Greens to Greys

I am of the kin
That grows up switching houses,
Filling them up to call our own.
In the same city, for five years
I had five homes.
Every time I'd leave,
I took a piece of it along.
The peacock feathers 
Shed in the backyard of one
Adorned the next,
Mom's hibiscus from one's garden
To another's walls.
My mere lifetime became a museum
Of doormats, lime paint and echoes in empty rooms
That reside safely 
In each of my bones
Like relics preserved,
Too precious to be displayed.
But I saw in movies 
And I saw in my grandfather, 
People I never understood
Who left pieces of their bones 
In homes,
Their hearts inside bricked walls,
Light wrecked to darkness
Like the concrete fours they lovingly built-
Until now.
Only my home is not guarded by brick walls
My home has no walls
It is vast open lands
That smell like freshly cut grass,
Clean air and chilly winds in September
My home looks like lush green forests
Residing April blossoms
And wide endless roads.
My home is not guarded by tall walls and wrought iron gates
It is guarded by greens on chests,
Combat boots,
Heavy metal on shoulders-
Infallible during mere earthquakes
That simple floods cannot corrode.
My home is not grey or white or yellow or pink
My home is green through and through
And for the first time in eighteen years,
I have been rendered completely homeless.


Sunday, 31 July 2016


If buildings reside
strange silences
and rains echo
in flooded streets.
If the faces around
are no more familiar,
please remember
you will always have a home
to come back to.
I will pray, everyday
that every house you enter
gets tinted by the hues
of your love and warmth,
that every soul you find
gets brimmed with the charm
every crevice of your being
is well versed with.
I will pray, everyday
for your happiness,
and for others' around you,
just like I found mine.

Sunday, 24 July 2016

One Way

I love you
To the moon,
But never back
Because once I finally have
The two things
That engulf my soul,
Why would I want to detach myself
From the only world I have ever known?

Thursday, 14 July 2016


You're my midnight thought and my midnoon trance when I'm lost in that midnight thought.
You're all I think about when I don't have anything to think about and you're all I think about when there's other things I should be thinking about.
You mean the world to me and the world means nothing to me when I'm with you.
Your embrace smells of my favourite cologne and that faint smell of sweat and your embrace smells like the home that I always imagined to have, but never really had.
I've switched houses to houses but this is the first time I've finally stepped into home.
Your love overwhelms me so much that I often find myself crying at 3 am, wondering what great things I did to have deserved you, while at the same time wondering if I truly deserve you.
I don't know what this feeling inside my heart is. It's warm and it's heavy that leaves my lightheaded and fills me up and consumes me with something that I don't know.
What I know is that when I'm snuggled deep in your arms, getting high off the smell that I'm now way too familiar with, and look up to catch you looking at me with your deep set, warm and kind eyes, I see unconditional and irreplaceable, pure and absolute love.
You're mine and only mine and while I may be skeptical and cynical of the future, I still want to risk it all and confess that I sometimes dream about our forever.