When I Can't Fall in Love

When I saw you 

Yesterday, standing 

Outside the metro.

The sky didn't melt.

Earth didn't shake.

It didn't rain.

And as we walked,

As I tried to catch 

Your glance-

My stomach didn't 

Conjure any butterflies.

Or my head didn't sink

In imagination of a

Rainbow laden sky.

Blood didn't rush

To my veins, bones

Or to the one that 

Erects.

I wonder if this isn't 

Love. I wonder if 

This longing isn't 

Enough.

I've deliberately 

Dug up my fantasies 

To plant my desire-

But nothing has 

Bloomed yet.

It feels weird to not

Fall for you.

These bones of Iron

And muscles of steel

And the sparks that

Fall short in the nerves

Ask only one thing-

What's worse?

Digging up love when

There isn't or unable 

To feel its presence 

When it's abundant.

Delulu

This wind that 

Must be passing 

Through her loose 

Hair..

The stream that 

Must have flowed

After caressing her

Gentle feet..

This feeling of 

Breathing under the 

Same sky as her.

Feeling constantly 

Her whispers in my 

Ears-

I paint her with my

Fascination in the 

Eye of my mind.

I adorn her with 

Stardust in my heart.

The artist I wanna 

Become, what a 

Feast, she is to my 

Rose-scented desires.

Lost in the maze 

Of swirling starlight.

Dumb struck and 

Humble..

Ohh! How astray 

I am on my own 

Definitive paths. 

I know the birds 

In the sky, give no 

Damn about me but 

How good it feels to

Say to myself-

They might be 

Carrying the songs

She has sung,

Why else would they 

Chirp so good in

A place where I

Happily reside?

Fading

There's a memory of 

You and me.

Sitting by a lake.

Stream of water 

Flowing through our

Feet and you talking 

About an exotic fish.

I try to hold on to it.

I paint it daily in the 

Canvas of my mind.

Attend to details,

Fine-tune it to the way

It's supposed to look.

It's been a decade

With this carpentry 

And for the first time 

Now. This morning I've 

Forgotten your face. 

The shape of your 

Nose has faded out

Of my fancy.

Glint of your eyes 

Has disappeared in

The hiccups in my

Longing.

The tone of your

Voice seems to have

Embraced a void 

And your fragrance 

Has stopped triggering 

The saudede in that

Place beyond.

I try to hold onto your

Your silhouette at least.

Try to fill you in from

The archives.

But another year passes 

By and I find myself 

Painting the lake bland 

With me alone looking 

Vacantly in the distance.

Maybe I'm with thoughts 

Of that exotic fish

You talked about.

Not knowing you faded

Away mid-sentence-

Still too eager hear the

Next thing you'd want

To say. But there's 

Silence and silence 

And silence..

Incel

I don't know what to do

With the throb of my 

Blood or the frustration 

Simmering in my gut.

Hardly any work or

Self-worth. Living on

Father's money and

The disappointment 

I am to my family-

I don't know how to

Deal with this built

Up insanity- than wear 

A stoll and conspicuous 

Tilak on my forehead.

A heavy metal gada

On my wrist and

Thick moustache to

Ooze the void of 

My soul-

But what to do with

The masculinity I've 

Embraced to cope with 

The society?

How about I go

Harrassing the lovers

In parks?

Beat up comedians 

For making people 

Laugh?

What right do they've 

To enjoy while I sulk

In my sourness?

How dare they go

Un-auccounted for the

Peaceful life they lead?

They're ruining our 

Culture and I've to 

Self-appoint myself to 

Protect it.

So lemme gather all 

The incels in one place.

We can create issues

Where there are none.

We can talk louder to

Let others pretend on

Our behalf.

Most would be married 

And busy with families.

Who's gonna mess with

Guys who think with 

Their dicks anyway?

We're gonna be ruling 

These cowards soon-

Our divine elevation 

Is just an election away.

Painter

He paints a door on the

Wall so that someone 

Would walk in his life.

Plucks stars at night to

Adorn his room- he's 

Forever welcome for the 

Wayfarer he's waiting.

He has designed a

Clock that can transport 

Anyone to a new place

At anytime-

But he doesn't want

An easy way out.

The silver ring he has

Designed can materialise

Any wish of his-

But he has seen only 

Disappointments so far.

When asked why,

He just says-

I'm a painter that's why.

That he needs something 

To hold on and 

Anything is true in his

Imagination.

But the reality would 

Always be his cold room

With the stink of paint.

Says that repeatedly 

And paints an angel who

Takes him to heaven.

Lullabies are in colours 

For him and he sleeps

Listening to his shades.

Art is his mother, lover

And the divinity he craves.

The doors he wants

To open or close are

All in there.

To escape or to not

Escape- the line is

Blurry but he has made

His peace- 

Lives another day to

Surprise himself 

Again. And again.

Telepathy

We lie under the fan 

Rubbing our warmth 

Onto each other.

You ask me to say

Something.

I run out of words.

You run your fingers 

On my chest.

I try to read the

Patterns you make-

I try to translate it

On your back in a

Language you don't 

Understand.

We both fantastically 

Fail at it.

But it's fun.

Language seems to be

A a scam in bedroom.

Maybe be it should 

Be banned.

I know telepathy 

Doesn't exist-

But the way our skins

Talk without words-

Two thermodynamic 

Systems suspended 

From outside affairs-

We try to dive into 

Each other, deeper 

Each time and 

The exploration is 

Never enough.

Only Laughing Makes Sense

At this age and at this

State of mind.

Everything seems 

Laughable.

You know every other 

Emotion has failed you.

Anger doesn't help.

Kindness doesn't get

You anywhere.

Forever love is ephemeral.

Loyalty is opportunism.

And hate and anger 

Is more harmful to 

Oneself than others.

You fairly know how

Every other person is

Gonna behave.

You know very well how

You're gonna reciprocate.

You know pain doesn't 

Last. Happiness doesn't

Stay for long.

So you laugh at the 

Stuff you predicted and 

It turned out to be true-

You're a lowkey Buddhist 

Philosopher yourself 

By now.

And then again you laugh 

More at the things that

Fail despite all the logic 

And calculations-

You laugh at the 

Randomness.

You laugh how every 

Other random outcome 

Reenforces the belief 

This wild chaos.

You laugh because 

You're a fool.

You laugh because 

There no one way to

Fix this. You laugh 

Because you're always 

Disappointed-

In you. Others and

The universe.

Gloating Satisfaction

You're the breeze teasing 

With my hair.

Moist feeling playing 

Around my eyelids.

Love is a sensual feeling 

And I feel you on my skin.

My eyes bulge, fingers

Quiver. Mind turns hazy

And I feel my veins bulge 

At your instance.

My imagination runs wild.

There's sweat and mix

Of our drool. Battle of

Breaths and violations 

With our lips-

Love in it purest sense

Seems to be just transfer 

Of bodily heat and fluids.

It's as physical as it gets.

When these fingers 

Explore the undulations

Of your flesh. Gloating 

With divine satisfaction-

Hints of my platonic 

Passion on your neck.

If we aren't ashamed 

Of our sweet sins 

The next morning-

Consider we put love's 

Unconditionality to 

Shame.

Dating a Self Aware Girl

I almost fell for you.

I was almost yours.

But I don't know why

I flinch when I look

Long at you.

I don't know why can't 

I loosen up myself 

Around you.

I almost called you

My moon on our

First date.

Almost drowned in

Your sensuous eyes.

But couldn't face

You outright.

The songs I couldn't 

Send you late at

Night. The naughty 

Memes that stay

Unsent with your 

Name written all over

Them-

The urge to stand 

Close to you and

Unintentionally touch-

But my deliberate attempts 

To maintain a distance-

You're too much you

Know.

It's like I'm always 

Scrutinizing myself in 

Your presence.

Like I'm standing 

In front of a mirror and 

You read my intentions 

Beforehand.

I wish I could just

Go away. I wish I could 

Find a home that's 

Less complicated.

But the standards you've 

Set are so high-

Every other hospitality 

Is gonna feel like

There's something

That it lacks.

This fog of silence 

Between us.

The unsure air edging 

Us towards an uncertain 

Fate.

I'm sure I'm gonna 

Drunk call you soon.

Just don't tell me

You saw it coming.

I don't want you to

Read me again.

If you could have 

Only stopped treating

Me like a Test-subject 

In your poems-

We could actually been 

On a voyage to that

Place you poets call

Muse.

Wishful nostalgia

You dream of her

Across an open field.

Standing with open

Arms. Wind blowing 

In her hair-

You running towards 

Her and clouds

Gathering just to

Pour down for this

Union.

You dream of her

Lying beside you-

Playing with her

Braids. Running 

Your fingers on 

Her feet-

Feeling her like the

Mild melody of 

Anklets.

Time frozen in her

Fragrance-

Peace chasing you

To be your slave.

But what happens 

To dreams?

What happens to

Dreams of a summer

Noon?

Heat gets to you.

You wake up to

The dead air in the

Room wondering if

It's tomorrow-

A sweet taste of

A cherry from a 

Past life gets to you

Aamidst stink 

Of sweaty reality-

You smile at yourself 

Like you always do 

And let it go.

Manipulation

Every time you closed 

Her Eyes from behind,

The names she guessed 

Dropped dead.

After years of this.

After feeling there's too

Much blood on your hands.

You confront her.

And that day, when 

She uttered your name

From her sassy lips-

You stood in front of

The mirror, smiling.

And cut your throat.

But your reflection 

Walked out of the mirror,

Bearing a different name-

Only to close her eyes

From behind and stand

Dumb struck when she

Utters another name.

Who's that guy, you ask..

The one you just killed,

She retorts.

Ephemeral Rapport

Our ships got wrecked 

At the same time and

We got stranded on

An island for a while.

There was nothing to 

Do much except talk

About poetry.

You wrote to me and

Read it to the birds.

I learned to write too 

And you were happy to

Listen.

Good times, really.

The breeze was clean.

Night-sky was promising.

But how long can one

Be stranded?

The rescue teams 

Showed up like age

Though we didn't 

Want them to.

We were pulled back 

To normalcy.

We were briefly alive 

In the long stretches of

Our reveries- to become 

Metaphors with wings.

But whatever grows

Wings should fly.

So there you go-

Go soar high.

I got an ocean waiting 

For me, hopefully.

Lemme happily dive.

Distance is a Trick

We sat across screens

Staring into each other's 

Eyes- watching the 

Same movie in sync to feel 

Each other across a 

Continent-

We carried a different 

Divide when we decided 

To fall apart in the

Same corner of the room

We stayed for years.

Distance has always 

Been a trick.

It's a truth, till it isn't.

An abyss, till it's filled.

It's light with faster speeds

But unable to penetrate 

A brooding mind-

It's dead of the dark as

A definitive norm-

A ray of photons was

Always an exception,

Till it wasn't.

Space has always been

Empty until it wasn't.

Silence has always been

Deafening till your

Anklets filled the void.

These sentences,

Turning into footsteps 

Somewhere.

Scaling kilometres.

Climbing mountains-

My voice almost reached 

You again-

Longing lept barriers to

Pass through your hair.

This heart was always

Empty. It really beat for 

You till it didn't.

Apathy here has always

Been a norm.

I thought I had it all 

Sorted till your presence 

Felt more in your absence.

Distance is a ghost

Desperately wanting to 

Be alive.

Warmth

Kiss me in heaven or

Hell. Or just here.

Does it matter?

The realms we enter 

When we let our

Tongues battle-

Asgard to Pataal Lok-

The wormholes we 

Enter while we explore 

The warmth of our bodies-

The touch of your 

Skin. Fire of your eyes.

Calm in your bosom-

Our souls must be 

Jealous of all the carnal

Pleasures they're 

Deprived of-

Maybe they've tried to 

Sneak out at night for 

Makeout but returned to 

The abode of skin after

Failing to play with the 

Sorcery of bodily warmth.

The Gods must have

Felt the same at some 

Point of time.

Bastards turned to 

Voyeurism that's why. 

And called it Omni-presence 

Later on.

Inability

I fall in love and don't 

Tell them.

Seems inappropriate.

I talk to them. 

Engage deeply.

They let me in and I let them

Know my vulnerabilities.

It's almost tempting to 

Have them in my life.

It's almost dreamy to have

Them by my side.

I make paper planes out of

Letters I write and 

Send them to the moon.

I craft reveries into 

Flowers and smell their 

Fragrance till my heavens 

Are adored with colours.

But it goes nowhere.

The boat full of fantasies 

Capsize.

Brick by brick the castle 

Of fancy starts to fall.

Falling would be good,

But things fade invisibly

To make me carry the scars

Of my pretentious 

Forgetfulness between 

My teeth.

You too are slipping 

Away now. And my inability

To stop you is up my 

Sleeves readily.

The butterflies of your 

Memories are poised for 

A reverse metamorphosis-

And I don't understand 

Why I'm more concerned 

About preserving you

In larval stage or pupal-

Than holding your

Completeness that's 

Already there.

PDA

The first time you

Slipped your hand in

My pants in the garden.

The first time we

Made it out in the bus.

The way our fingers 

Quivered and lips

Craved it all in public 

Places-

High on dirty stuff.

High on naughty things 

In really inappropriate 

Places-

The first time we 

Had that unusually 

Long kiss at a remote 

Bus stop in Pune 

At night-

The police caught us

And booked us under 

PDA and fined us a

Good 20k.

The whole thing was

Embarrassing.

But what petty thing 

Is embarassment?

What a petty amount 

Is that money?

In comparison to

The rush of fluids

Of each other's body.

A soul-satisfying 

Guilt of a feeling?

What sanity is this

World preaching?

What purity? 

And what clarity?

If the cloudy haze of

Sensuality hasn't 

Dictated you its evil

Intentions...yet.

What good is love?

And what good is life?

What good was our

Banishment from the

Garden of Eden-

If we didn't fall prey 

To the urges of our 

Primal sins?

Sakti

You gotta look her 

In the eyes.

Measure the depths

In metaphors and

Throw them at 

The sky.

You gotta look at her

Lips and feel her

In between the teeth.

To come up with a

New flavour of tea

That quenches

Intentions.

Look at the bosom

And thighs. 

Her hips that want

To laugh out loud.

And waist that can 

Fit in your palm.

You can engage 

Or disengage at

Any moment but

Cannot leave this

Room.

You may or may

Not touch her

Appropriately or

Inappropriately.

But no half-hearted 

Efforts allowed.

The only thing you

Gotta remember-

This is just a game 

And the challenge is

Not to fall in love.

If you do, your

Balls would be cut.

And if she does.

Well-

Zoom Out

The people buried under 

The bombed buildings

Of Palestine.

A few meeting the same

Fate in recent LA fires.

The divide of political 

Opinions between the two.

If we zoom in- 

The ethical and moral

Conflicts. The pain of

Personal loss--

If we zoom out. Both are 

One of the events across 

The history of all the wars 

And better wildfires.

A hundred years into

The future- many more 

Such events-

Add a few more centuries 

Everything will be put 

Under a broad label

Of ambiguous disasters.

And a million more years 

Down the line-

When an alien species of 

Lesser order discards

Our fossils as a third grade 

Fuel for their engines-

Our history books will 

Cry in shame for being

Wasted on petty narcissism.

Eyes

When I looked into your eyes,

All I could see was whirlpools.

One, two, ten... A hundred.

Well, I lost count-

Touch of stardust.

Jolt of rainbows.

Thunder and stroms for sure.

But the broken moons, 

Doused galaxies-

Transcending their 

Agitation within myself.

Is this how one looses oneself.

Is this how incantation work?

Is this how we start to adore

Cats of witches?

The deeper I look.

The deeper I'm drawn in-

My darkennes finding a

Spark in you? Or

My excessive luminance 

Making peace with the despair 

You wanna offer?

It's mind boggling.

Bamboozlement to be precise.

But I don't wanna overthink 

This time-

I'm a sorted muggle drowning

In the he ocean of your eyes-

Happy to have succumbed to

The Hermione you've become.

Love, longing and Envy

Years later when you meet 

Your school-crush in a

Friend's marriage.

A three-year-old kid in her

Hand.

The tension in the air.

Jealousy seeping through 

Your eyes-

You laugh through all

The tantrums that come

Your way.

Upon that, others pass

On her kid to you.

After everyone failed

To cheer up his grumpy

Mood. He sits quietly

With you.

A weird sense of 

Attachment gets to you.

A feeling that, the kid could 

Have been yours if things 

Could have worked out,

Lingers in you.

Before you pass him to her,

You squeeze his cheeks

Hard till he cries.

She gives you a nasty look.

And you smile.

That weird sense of 

Satisfaction you got-

Unrequited love has its way

Of getting at you.