“Silence everyone” // Loneliness.

Deep, dark, deafening silence hovers around me-

Next to the hair on my arms, standing upright-

Just like visions in the eyes of cataract patients,

Stopping the clock.

In this wholesome emptiness, my heartbeats

f r e e z e .


It is so silent in this big town of little people.


I turn back to school days of “silence please”

And my veins rush with blood oh

How was there a dire need for what

Now carves homes out of nothingness


I see hollows of abysses in the holes of my room

I wish rats would house or

vultures would feast because

These spaces have housed inside

the wholesomeness

that I




Silence permeates through wall and skin.

Silence permeates through skin


Walls keep breaking down before my eyes.

Stop them before I carve my own kind of sweet hell.

stop them.



To everyone out there: I am okay.

In a train of thoughts I tracked through what silence could mean for some particular characters in my head and that simply took a dark turn. I really enjoyed discovering the topic of silence through this poem today and I would want to do more of these soon. Sorry for posting after so long. I want to post more often this summer. See you soon!


New endings

Nobody ever prepared me for goodbyes

They just came knocking at the door

Right when I was all cozy in bed.

Professors talking about final papers,

My last packet of pasta becoming waste.

The talk of seeing someone somewhere new

Old walks with familiar people that will change.


Everything will change.

The way they teased me or the way they loved me

Or the way they loved themselves.

And the things they have forgotten will be remembered

And the things they remember will have to be reminded


Or maybe they will never forget,

Maybe after all these years they will know

And fondly,

Who my person is,

And maybe they will raise their hand for a high five

And I will be confused in my handshake

Who knows how long greetings stay?


Maybe I am scared of my own wave

How it glides and moves and craves change

How does loss affect me

When this distance,

this cold wind, is what

starts my fire?


But things have to end for new beginnings

And so I will pack my bags and smile at my room,

Look at these people I love,

Give them hugs, “take care”s

And share a joke or two,

Creating memories till our fingers have to miles apart,

Incapable of a reminder of our tenderness.


Maybe loss hurts me,

(How can someone choose a reality away from ours?)

But in this hurt I will bleed with them,

Until our love reaches somewhere permanent.

Who knows,

Maybe that warmth will be enough to light a fire again?



Featured image is not my own.

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.



No more death, please

Little deaths follow my shadows.

Corpses of high hopes,

Funerals of pleasure,

Stinking murders of us.

But take a knife

Tell me to kill again.

The flavours of death don’t confuse me


I simply crave for the cooking

I remember when times were fresh

Memories were brewing

Our special places were savoured.

Now all I see is a microwave.

It stares me in the face,

Like those horror movies

And I’m screaming inside

The pleasure is too vivid,

The moment too real.

I’m not ready to feel it again

History is frozen in the present.

And I’m not ready for warmth, today

Rewind, rewind, rewind

Play, but just don’t.

Let’s move to the future please,

Stale is not worth us

I want to breathe again.

Fresh air, Mumbai.

I want home again.

Give me home again.


Travelling homeward: Introspection.

“Everyone introspects, don’t they?” I thought, as I crossed the road holding a packet of chips in my hand, heading homeward. I went on to the gate and in those 10 seconds another multitude thoughts came to my head. “The most captivating thing about a human is their ability to think, surely. It’s so innate, and so individualistic. But then why is it that people portray that they don’t think of their actions or words really;and that they don’t seem to care about a less superficial view?”

Munching on the crips, I thought of one person, who had made me ask the first question of this post to myself just recently. I pushed the gate of my building ajar and slipped through, my mind in a blur. Walking on the grey and greying bricks I thought some more “Doesn’t everybody like reflecting their reflections into actions? It’s evident that they do, for I have been surprised by their responses to thoughtful dialogues many-a-times. Ah, maybe thinking so deeply is often too cumbersome.”

Wiping my feet on the green, aging mat that royalised our lobby, I lost once more against the ever competitive door of the lift. Waiting for my chance to use the facility I thought, “What if it’s the ignorance and bias in my head that’s not allowing me to see that there are many perspectives to a person? And then there is definitely that cliché factor of ‘what will society say?’, that makes us dance a masked dance throughout life.”

By the time this epiphany came to my head, I was at my doorstep, waiting for someone to open the door, anxious once again as to why the the house seemed slow to respond to my call. Finally I stepped into my home, coming to the conclusion that maybe to understand someone completely we need to fall in sync with their vagueness. We need to realise that even THAT aspect of them is acceptable considering that the battle against the troubles of life is fought only with the personalised, unaided weapons of our minds.

P.S. : You might want to read the title once more, it’s more than just that. 😉