Giving in

If the garden of longing 

calls you, you should 

consider surrendering.

If a certain intoxication 

tries to get you, you 

should playfully give in.

Sometimes if a hand 

tries to reach you in the

dark, you gotta believe 

that it's a guiding light.

And when the winds are 

ready to bring you fancy 

dreams you should consider 

building windmills instead 

of walls.

If a certain rain finds

you without a roof, 

you should resist the urge 

to call it bad weather-

Some things arrive

without a purpose.

Some doors open before 

you know what lies 

beyond them.

Some roads make no 

promises except that 

they lead somewhere you 

haven't been.

You don't always have 

to know where you're going.

Sometimes a little courage 

to be carried away can

land you where you exactly 

wanted to be.

The bird that chirps in

the morning, give it a

chance to sing for you-

A warm embrace is always 

better than a distant, 

detached admiration.

I know delusions are bad

but what if being delusional 

is the only way around?

So why be a king when 

you can be a God? I say, 

slay it the Buddha way.

Have a wife and kid, and 

walk away before it's too late.

Even peak spirituality hits 

you after a little escapism,

and a lots of wealth 

perhaps.

Making Yourself a Space

Look for a hill nearby, 

climb it up and sit under a tree.  

Feel your presence against 

the wind, fixate your mind 

on something and write about it. 

Next, find a riverbank, 

a barren land, an abandoned 

house, or a distant beach. 

Maybe you can bike your ass 

for a week or two to scrape 

your inside from all possible 

angles. 

Do this for six months or 

a year, or till all the pages 

that diary are not entirely filled- 

hunt for experiences. 

expose yourself to situations. 

stare blank, go broke,

sweat it all out in the sun-

Purposelessly sit, walk, or 

better run, or just scribble. 

Deliberately make yourself 

a razor blade, to cut your 

pre-existing thoughts to 

make space for new ones. 

Fill up the gaps by creating 

new gaps. Feel it all on 

your skin and fill up the papers.

Then when you are done, 

throw it into the ocean or

Burn it all up.

I'm sure it's gonna leave a

big hole inside you, and 

That's the space you made 

for yourself, from where you 

may never wanna return.

Self-talk for First Date

Don't talk loudly. 

You usually do.

Mellow it down. 

Don't keep on talking; 

you always do.

But for now, let her talk.

Actively listen. 

Look like you're genuinely 

interested in her.

Make her talk about things 

she's interested in by 

nudging her with 

not-so-overt questions.

Don't try to over-explain 

stuff to make yourself 

look smart. FFS, 

don't bring up politics.

Most importantly, 

don't give advice. 

You tend to do it like 

you've figured it all out, 

but that just sounds 

condescending.

Try to look her in the eyes.

Also try to steal glances 

now and then. 

Try to give small 

compliments too- 

Also, you're not good at 

receiving one, so if you 

get one, just smile. 

Never refuse or refute it.

I tried to follow my advice 

to myself today. I tried 

listening to her all day.

Sat on the sidelines to 

be very considerate for 

my own sake. 

Then out of the blue, 

she said, the cockroaches 

are scum, anti-national, 

foreign-funded. 

And, well, aftermath-

I had to search for a 

Pink drum, because a 

Blue one would be rude.

Fuck-all Life

Comb your unkempt hair,

wash your ugly face.

Put on some perfume-

for God's sake, take a

effing bath today.

Your bare body deserves

soft touch of a loofah.

A shady t-shirt, a faded 

jeans and a haughty look

to call yourself funky.

An overused duet to 

mumble in your mouth,

A crooked smile to ooze

your rizz. Little quirkiness

should be harmless but

first-

Look deep in the mirror 

to have a glimpse of 

your restless soul. 

Thrust your hand in your 

mind, and give a shape to 

that face in your head.

Then say shortest poem 

is a name and write it

in the last pages like

you're Ghalib's intern-

It's time to manifest 

yourself a fuck-all life. 

Time to at least pretend 

that you got wings and 

fly close to the sun 

till you lose it all-

Whatever you gained 

would be bonus and

and whatever you lost

was never yours-

 

But Hey, you would be

a beautiful mess again,

and we could start 

the grind again by 

combining your hair or 

by sketching someone 

else's face.

Keeda

There should be unfulfillment 

in your heart and an itch to 

fill it up no matter what. 

There should be restlessness 

in your fingers to keep scratching-

You gotta keep the wound alive. 

Like how there should be a 

mountain and an ache in your 

legs to climb it up. 

Like how your hand should 

look forward to swimming in 

the open sea, at least once. 

There should be invisible wings

that flap for a mysterious flight.

There should be an imaginary 

sky that shines only for you

to keep your delusions intact.

And somewhere far away, 

by a creek or amidst a forest, 

there should be a wishful house

made of sticks and stones.

And to spend a good chunk of

your life, there should be an 

equally mad companion to 

tag along.

And after spending the first 

chilly night by the campfire,

you gotta wake up to a new 

hopeless horizon to help yourselves 

with a steamy beverage that's 

really bad.

You gotta have a special kind

of 'keeda' to romanticize it,

like you're gonna repeat it again.

And to call discomfort an

adventure. A bad drink, a tradition. 

and the cold, an intimacy-

Oh they said to stare back at 

the abyss when the abyss stares 

at you, but you went ahead and 

took a piss in it. 

And why shouldn't it be alright?

Metamorphosis

The larva eats like mad 

and withdraws itself 

into a cocoon.

Then it broods.

Each step guides

Every action or 

inaction towards a 

becoming.

Each bite coding a color.

Each utterance 

defining a flap. 

The intent is decided, 

noise is removed, 

action is streamlined.

and when it's time-

The wings are 

fluttered and boom-

the first flight. 

The butterfly must 

become a butterfly.

Not by chance.

Not by miracle. 

But by outgrowing 

a noun it is to 

Become an attribute.

The butterflyness 

of it from every breath 

till a culmination-

The flight wasn't in

The wings.

It was in the intent.

Ikk Kudi

I listen to 'Ik Kudi' and I remember you. 

I hope you are fine. Wherever you are, 

I hope you aren't lost. 

I hope you aren't missing from yourself. 

I hope you still reek of those Avadhi words

That loosely translate as love for self. 

May the fire in you find a calm embrace,

And the silence in you get enough weight 

To reciprocate with storms.

I hope all the wonders and mysteries 

Unravel in you with all their intricacies.

I hope all the heavenly beauty embrace 

Your imperfections.

I hope you carry the summer and winters

Alike and I really hope you accept 

Your gods and demons alike.

I hope the world is not just a stage for

You and you don't have to perform.

I hope that's your homecoming.

I hope you realise, you found yourself 

Not because you were lost but you

Stopped looking everywhere else.

Simpy put, I hope you become what

Shiv Kumar Batalvi wished when the

Song reaches its high with-

Ho surat osdi pariyaan wargi,

Sirat di oh mariyam lagdi.

Hasdi hai taan phul jharhde ne,

Turdi hai taan ghazal hai lagdi.

Leap

Enough overthinking.

Enough hesitation.

Enough streaks of

Lazy days and nights.

Enough practice.

Enough obsession.

Enough rehearsals to

Get it finally right.

On the day of

Deliverance-

When the ghost of

Consequences stare

Into my soul-

When the hiccups in 

My head and cough 

In the veins peek

Through my sweat-

I shall shed defenses,

Forget my weapons,

Extend my hand,

Tighten my legs-

Close my eyes to 

Look within myself for 

One last time, and 

When it's about time-

I shall take a leap to

Leave it all to chance.

And when the others

Ask how I did it..

I shall look them in 

The eye and say-

"I got lucky".

Taandav

Empty vessels make noise, 

they say.

So I emptied myself.

To hear the one who's 

Been silenced for decades.

I scraped my past.

I scraped my future.

I scraped my present.

Just to hear the noise,

I emptied myself to

the core.

and when I became empty 

enough, there wasn’t 

any noise.

silence sat heavy-

dense, unmoving,

like truth refusing to speak.

Disappointed, distressed,

and in retaliation-

I started filling up again-

memories, guilt, 

half-read books,

faces that never stayed.

Slowly, the noise returned.

Not hollow this time,

but humming-

a strange vibration,

a forming self.

The more I filled,

the clearer it became-

from clutter to chord,

from noise to note.

constantly shaped and 

reshaped-

Learning, unlearning 

and relearning-

till Shiva in me made a 

round trip as Nataraj 

to force my voice

sound like mine.

How to live 101

There should be a dream.

a list, an idea of life

to chase around.

No need for

grand philosophy

or borrowed ideology.

common sense can 

get you everywhere. 

Have a friend who's

equally crazy.

let him not let you

fall for idealism or slip 

through the cracks 

of darkness.

Live on rent,

own a vehicle,

read, travel,

fall in love and

don’t marry.

Be on the edge,

and rinse life

with uncertainty.

always keep moving.

Laugh too loud,

forgive too late,

and forget just enough

to keep going.

Learn to sit quietly

in your own mess,

and call it peace.

When the world

demands definitions,

be vague.

When it asks for purpose,

just breathe.

And at the fag end of life,

when they ask—

was it all worth it,

this lone, selfish life?

Tell them about 

all the good and bad 

sunsets without remorse,

and complaints.

it's a fair deal really.

you never know what 

the other side 

had to offer-

just like they would 

never know how 

cherries taste on this 

side of the mountain.

and that's alright.

and if at all someone

shows some real

interest. 

make a pact and

ask them write

something for you,

which can be used

as an epitaph on

an open grave that

comes, without a

tomb.

Turn to Silence

Turn to Silence-

Loneliness, aloofness, 

Isolation. 

Reclusive, seclusive.

Call it whatever you want.

But shut the noise.

Look within.

Dig a deep, deep well.

And take the plunge.

Scrape your own walls 

In the darkness.

Eat dirt.

Smell the stink.

But keep going.

There’ll be nails.

Broken glass.

Rat traps. Blades.

Broken condoms.

Failed relationships.

Mirages of money.

Cheap desires.

Overpriced temptations.

Your guilt gleams till

You're scared and 

Confused, but you gotta 

Get past that to 

Keep going.

You may see hints of

Light somewhere,

Don’t budge to its lure.

Don’t fall for its appeal.

For this is not a tunnel.

You are here to

Search for a spark.

You're in search of 

A fire within.

So keep going and

Go deeper, till you can 

Light a bonfire.

Don’t worry about 

The smoke. 

The spectators never 

Understand the fire.

Let them cough, 

Let them curse- 

They’ll call it madness 

Before they call it 

Awakening.

And only when you burn 

Enough within you 

Can really see how- 

Silence isn’t absence, 

It’s arrival.

Dev n Danav

And when you look

Within yourself.

To make peace with 

Your Dev and Danav-

The unending turmoil 

From both ends,

Pushing you into more

Chaos-

The risk of poison 

When you churn

The ocean is forever.

The Halahal is 

Inevitable and the 

Amrit, at most 

Is dumb luck.

But should it mean 

Men shouldn't aspire 

Immortality?

One has to plunge

Into action believing 

Shiva may come

To one's rescue.

Rather- believe 

You yourself can 

Become Neelkanth.

And if you do-

You shall stand above 

All Dev and Danav.

So shall Halahal

And Amrit.

Brand Poem

Read just the left part
Poem based on company Taglines.

To "Taste the rainbow"                                         ( Skittles)
To "Fly the friendly skies".                                 (United Airlines)
To "Have it your way"--                                     (Burger King)
    
"Think Different"                                                 (Apple)
"Think Big"                                                         (IMAX)
"Think Outside the Bun"                                     (Taco Bell)

"Eat Fresh".                                                         (Subway)
"Belong Anywhere"                                             (Airbnb)
"Everywhere you want to be"                                (Visa)
"Impossible is Nothing"                                     (Adidas)
    
"Live in your world. Play in ours."                     (PlayStation)
"All for Freedom. Freedom for All."                 (Harley Davidson)
"Quality never goes out of style."                     (Levi's)

"Go Further"                                                         (Ford)
"Obey your thirst"                                                 (Sprite)
"Challenge everything"                                     (Electronic Arts)
"Let's go places"                                                 (Toyota)

"We try harder"                                                     (Avis)
"Yes We Can"                                                    (Obama 2008)
"Nothing runs like a Deere"                                 (John Deere)
"Gotta catch 'em all!"                                         (Pokemon)

"Open happiness"                                                 (Coca-Cola)
"Good to the last drop."                                     (Maxwell House)
"Just Do It"                                                         (Nike)
"Because you're worth it" to be in                     (L'OREAL)
"The Happiest Place on Earth".                        (Disneyland)

Shooting Blanks

Picasso had a revolver

To shoot blanks at whoever 

Asked the meaning of

His paintings.

Out of frustration he

Loaded it for real once,

To shoot whoever asks

For a meaning.

But no one asked 

Any questions that day.

Just smiled at his art

And moved on.

He felt so violated that

He held the gun to his 

Temple for quite a while 

That night.

At the final moment,

It occurred to him to 

Paint something for 

One last time.

"A revolver that shot

Flowers when fired".

The abstract was so good 

He decided not to die.

Then it was sold for a 

Record price.

And when someone 

Asked what's the meaning.

He again shot blanks to

Convey how each painting 

Saved his life.

Your own Magic

After a while, you get
Handy with seamless
Operation of gears and
Clutch.

It occurs to you, how a
Better braking system is
Not merely for stopping but
Upping the speed.

After a while, you realize
How you spend your days
Is how you spend your Years,
Decades and Lifetime.

And how sometimes
Consequences don't matter.
Putting yourself in a cocoon,
Having yourself an image.
Doesn't matter.

Age can be counted on
Number of places you've
Visited and number of times
You've aimlessly danced.

You realize if you could
Have stretched your hands
A bit more, you could have
Grown a pair of wings.

How if you could have
Eased yourself with life,
Things could have fallen
In a better place.

After a while, when you
Find yourself utterly alone.
You realize, how no Priest
Or God can help you.
Nor a president or PM.

You realize how you
Need to work on yourself
Till the feather of
Luck comes to rest on your
Shoulder like it's a
Whisper of Buddhist bird.

You realise how
Wonderful it is to be
Your own wizard and
Magic.

The Hunter

There's a mountain on
Your body and upon it
The weight of a sky.

Then the hungry stomach
And unwavering stability
In the eyes despite all.

It takes patience,
Not the fangs or heavy
Duty arms.

It's the pacing heart's
Focus anchored Against
Titanium locks.

It's clarity in the right
Time. Right pressure
At right points.

A blink of a mistake can
Hail heavy on the stomach,
Even cost your life.

Hunting is not an easy job.
Ready to be steady even
Against impossible odds..

Hunting is a state of mind.
Why do you think a hunt is
Always glorified?

The Hunter doesn't think
About grass despite being
Starved.

Ruined Thing

A bird that didn't fly,

Man who didn't try.

Stuck in ifs and why,

Train left the station 

And you stood watching 

Instead of hopping on.

The song was ready,

Guitar was tuned.

The song didn't materialize 

As you chose not to sing.

A perfectly ruined thing

Is the one didn't get

Any taint or bruise.

So afraid of the wound,

Stood infront of the mirror 

All life, glorifying one's 

Flawless skin.

But the mirror only 

Amplifies what you hide.

How do you escape 

Your reflection that lies?

Otherwise

Woke up, and went on a walk.

Made myself a cup of coffee

And had a good frothy bath..

It could have been otherwise.

Watched a movie later on,

Wrote something for myself.

A good lunch. A deep nap

After a long time..

It could have been otherwise.

Plugged in the earphones,

Hopped on an old playlist and 

Remembered an old friend while 

I sulked alone in the evening.

Called him this time.

It could have been otherwise.

He joined me later on.

A bike ride to the distant bar.

A beer, kababs and biryani.

Talked for long.

It could have been otherwise,

But I called him, and we had a beer.

Can live in relief for another 

Month at least and maybe 

Many more.

Simmer

Who's gonna stop this story?

Who's gonna stop the flood

Of these emotions that are

No more weary?

The legs have mustered

Courage and eyes are ready 

For unshamed stares.

The lungs swoon with pride-

Blood flows thick, 

Head held high. Hands sway

Seamlessly and we're ready

For a riot of dance.

Who needs your approval?

Validation doesn't matter.

The songs that bombard 

In the belly are strong enough 

To make it out of our throats.

Wings are as fierce-

The cages stand molten, 

We're ready to fly away now.

We're Dust

We're dust that never settles.
The winter wind carries and
That of summer keeps it afloat.

Stays in the sky no matter what.

Bouncing off the fluttering
Wings of birds and frequencies
Of the dragon files.

Reflecting the sunbeams and
Keeping the earth cool,
The patterns of Tyndall...

Painting the sky red and in
Other shades. We're sunrise,
And the sunset. A blip of

Aesthetics in the mundane.
We seem to be harmless and
Not a matter of concern..

Till we get into your eye or
Maybe even the nose,
To assert our presence.

That's how Dinosaurs vanished
Right? Dust occupied the
Sky and there was a long winter.