Red flowers outside my window

Flowers on concrete,

in concrete, in intangible quantities

in my heart- they fill my hollow

with colour like never before.

In situations that cut me open,

they run to get stitches

again and again:

loyalty that I wonder how I deserve.

And sometimes they lose me in crowds of

unknown faces at every turn

but in the break

between two rocks at a faraway beach,

away from reality, I’ll find them

blossoming between my broken heart.




Living in a heartbeat

In a puddle there lies a swinging boat.

The children must have made it

With frail minds and wasting energies

And I do not blame them

But this sight brings my puffy eyes

Just some more wetness.

I abhor the sight of the little red app.

Letters of T, O and I combine

To bring me misery.

But I shouldn’t feel this way, truly.

Everything edging its way towards catastrophe

Does not reach its destination-I tell myself.

Sometimes buildings don’t crash,

And worlds don’t crumble.

But my heart has already sunk in his floods.

It cannot rise to the surface-

Reaching out to those sensible words seems impossible

I am living in a heartbeat.

The risk I took is driving me crazy

But being on the antipodes will not help either.

I will be driven crazy in either case.

And all I can wait for

Is the end of mine and his raging floods.


This is the expression of a long-distance relationship with the male on one side, battling a flood in Chennai. And the female on the other side, battling her supple heart-quaking with the fear of the end to her world, her world in Chennai.

Sometimes nature tests love, but the heart can only hold so much.