Weightless

After years of punishing 

myself for not being able to 

forget you,

I wake up today-

and you’re not in the air 

anymore.

No trace of your scent

on my mornings,

no silhouette of your head

lingering in stories.

The world feels wider,

brimming with possibilities.

no more your eyes

burning holes in my back.

no guilt for not belonging

to your songs.

It feels strange,

to have dreams that 

are clean,

to breathe without 

reminiscing.

Sixty kilos off my 

shoulders, and

the lightness I feel-

must be the air.

the buoyancy in my 

bones- is this the fresh 

taste of freedom?

must be.

Deep sighs and 

smooth rides like

a soaring flight.

I'm a bird again?

Running

I run and run, searching

for what I don’t know.

I run and run, knocking doors,

to find who I don’t know.

I ask questions,

answer them myself,

and run more and more-

to find myself, or to hide,

I don’t know.

The rooms I find are 

No home.

The rooms I find are 

No hideouts.

The rooms I find reek

My absence and 

The rooms I find myself in

push me to run more 

And more.

It’s the sweat and 

The drool and panting 

my guts out, mother.

It’s my existential angst

holding my face, 

Taunting me by sticking 

its tongue out.

It’s black tar dripping

from the roads that are 

Closed.

Sandstorms of dreams

That have turned into

Blurbs.

My shoes are torn 

from yesterday's chase.

But feet still move like

Body remembers what 

The mind tries to forget.

And I run and run again

Without meaning to

Like stillness is louder 

Than my breath.

Oh, I am tired, mother.

And I think I am done.

Save me from myself.

Unbirth my existence.

Take me back into your 

Womb and pat me down 

to a long rest.

I've been tired mother,

And hopeless-

Tuck me to sleep to 

Wake me up again.

Demons

My demons stare 

At me from the dark- 

The clock whispers 

My name like I'm a 

Ticking bomb.

Every tick steals my 

Breath and I make

Deliberate efforts to

Remind me I'm alive.

The grip loosens,

Ground slips and 

Fate demands its

Rightful share-

How to hold it all

Together tonight?

I'm done tracing every 

Pulse like a prayer.

Done naming every 

Shadow of mine aloud.

This unusual knock

That seems to be 

From within today-

It breathes when I 

Breathe,

Grins when I choke,

And whispers- 

That only peace 

Is my surrender.

Mocking my efforts

To stay human,

Pushes me to edges

And I tend to give up.

If I let go,

Will it catch me?

Or will I discover

A new me, 

Tomorrow morning?

Soft-prey, marinated

In caffeine and despair-

Insomniacs are 

My favourite it says.

And lured by a few

Ounces of sleep-

My eyes close.

It turns dark.

The demon devours

Me, and whoever 

Wakes up-

Wears another shade 

Of eyebag, like 

The next morning is 

A Zombie Apocalypse.

Slipping

You slip from dreams.

You slip from pics 

We forgot to take.

List of places we 

Should have been 

Exploring.

I try to hold on, but

You slip through 

The gaps in my 

Thoughts.

You slip from words,

Gasps and my

Frustrated sighs.

I built rooms of 

Silence to trap your echo,

But you slide past

My heart of glass.

You slip from prayers

And from curses alike.

Through unformed 

Memories, 

Half said goodbyes.

Soft silence and my

Thickened arrogance-

You slip till I can't

Recall your face.

You slip till your name

Becomes familiarly 

Strange.

A ripple on a lake

By a stone I once 

Threw, which 

Still manages to 

Reflect an image

That asks-

Alas! Stranger.

Didn't we once know?

Am I not a Desert yet?

I've buried the

Names I knew.

Friends turned to

Faint silhouettes,

Lips that once called

Are cobwebs now.

I've walked through

My hollow self.

A museum of

Forgotten laughs-

Broken vows pinned 

Like insects.

I've dried out of 

My rivers.

Emptied oceans.

Blocked all the light 

And bleached up

Colours.

I've blocked all

The echoes.

The den of my 

Thoughts is abode

Of bird droppings

That are crippled.

Dreams are lost.

Aspirations, doused.

Ambitions for what??

Everything is ash 

And dust.

A skeleton with

Scraped off flesh.

But where do all

The tears come from?

Am I not a 

Desert yet??

The floods still

Find me.

The corpse still

Weeps.

Bigot Again

Yet again, she turns

Her back.

And the thousand 

Poems you didn't write,

Find all possibilities

To happily rot.

But life goes on 

You know.

The many sunsets,

And winters.

The yellow stripped

Off the flowers,

And the fragrance.

You try to clutch 

Your chances.

But you find no anchor 

Whatsoever.

And the pyres in

Your chest,

Many funerals in

Your head and

A fancy for looking 

At the ships that 

Capsize, growing 

Into a happy fetish-

You thought you'd 

Find peace when

The last known place 

Of nostalgia would be

Razed to dust.

But an apocalypse

Has always been 

The start of a new 

Religion and you're

Condemned to a 

Bigot of love again.

Gag

I'll cut my tongue 

And hammer nails

Into my eyes to 

Push my tears back.

I'll hold those words

By neck and 

Trample hard on 

Thoughts before

They can manifest.

I'll drown in my

Own aloofness and

Choke on reinforced 

Silence, before I

Can I reveal to you 

My intentions again.

Once I feel,

You don't deserve my 

Attention. 

I'll assist myself to

The bottom of

The ocean-

To hide even my

Breath against the vain 

Of your your 

Disgraceful presence.

So adios,

You ungrateful wretch.

Maybe I gotta erase

This poem too-

You don't even 

Deserve my hate.

No Ash, No Phoenix

The way I wanna 

Lose you.

The way I wanna 

Let you go.

But the urge to

Preserve and 

Remember you

Forever-

Like rose petals

Leaving hints of

Presence through 

Fragrance.

Songs leaving 

Traces of memories 

In the tones that

Don't wanna fade.

But the monsoons

Convincing me,

I can't hold you 

Any more-

The way I wanna

Make peace with

A drab feeling 

In my bones-

I write, rewrite 

Your name on my

Skin, but its tendency 

To disappear,

Again and again-

Time does his 

Job well, you see. 

The way he rubs

It off you, 

Doesn't leave any 

Stain.

He's a slow pacifier 

On a couch,

Smoking a cigar,

That doesn't need

An ashtray.

There's no phoenix 

Without ash.

And the way you're

Fading away-

No scars are left,

To scratch.

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.

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.

Narcissism ft Global Warming

Why can't I write
Something emotional.
Something vulnerable?
Have grown numb?
Do I feel nothing?

I scratch myself. Bite.
I bring a spade to
Dig up my chest.
Split it with an axe to
See if I make any sense.

I search for drops of
Emotions restlessly.
I go deep and deep
To find nothing-

Aridity reeks in here.
And I seem to have
Stranded here for so long
That I've built an
Ecosystem for myself.

The date trees.
Camels to hitch a
Laughter riot.
Caravans pass by-
No strings attached.

My distance from the
Rains. Distance from
Any attachments to
Water-

There's an Oasis at
A far distance but
I only need that to
Quench my thirst.

There's lots of
Cacti infestation says
My therapist/ecologist.

I say it's just harmless
Humour and sarcasm.
She says that's coping
Mechanism of a desert.

So I am trapped inside
A character?
And how she goes on
About how Cacti are
Designed to trap
Others for moisture.

You mean I trap people
Who are emotional?
She declares-
Narcissism is a proper
Desert ecosystem-
It's global warming.

Ray of Hope

The words have decided 

To abscond from the 

Pages of my diary.

The photographs have

Decided to fade away from 

The old albums.

An invisible hand holds

The face of all the memories 

Against a wall and rubs it up

Till the skin comes off.

What's left is a white blanket 

Of salt- sour and saline.

But despite the douse 

And despite the dusk.

Something inside makes

A strong appeal for 

Resurgence.

Who's there? It asks.

Who's there?

And there's a subtle 

Knock from the other side.

And that seems enough.

It's someone's presence

That challenges the 

The stink of inevitable..

Like fragrance.

Like a single breath is 

Mightier than death.

A thought of you beats 

The shit out of oblivion.

Two Emotions

If you laugh when you 

Badly wanna cry.

Is it still sadness?

And sink within when you

Really wanna laugh it out. 

It's still happiness?

And when you cry so

Hard sometimes.

Your tears flowing down

Your nose.

Mixing with the nasal

Fluid and finding 

Way to your mouth.

The salty taste that

Invokes mother's 

Brutal beatings from

Your childhood...

The silent laugh from 

Your eyes that doesn't 

Translate on your lips-

What do you call it?

This gap in your 

Language that can't 

Handle two emotions 

At once.

What do you call it?

Soot

Fed up, ashamed.
Feeling gross about
What I've written in my
Diaries all these years..

Decided to burn them
Page by Page.

There goes 3rd December
Of 2015 and 28th Feb of
Another leap year of
The past decade.

Faces of people I almost
Recognize along with
The fade of my own.
Words turning into flares..

Erasing them line by line,
Soot rising in the air.
Seemed I was a blank slate
For a while.

Shortly it rains.

Water-soaked char of
Memories clogging drains
And stinking. Seeping in
Dreams and haunting to

Remind me how I can't
Escape the past. How flushed
Memories can turn into ash,
And force you to cough.

Adulthood

The older you get,

The less you cry.

You just learn to handle 

The pain well, with time.

Hide hit, mold it or 

Forget-

Whatever it takes to

Push back the tears.

The skilled carpenters 

We are with our 

Hammers and the nails-

Agile to thump back 

Every drop with no fear

Of damaging the eyes,

Or hearts.

Nails stuck all over the 

Face, a wooden mask

Always in work,

All through life.

The kid within us we

Tried to love. We abused 

Him eventually.

We're our own pedos.

Adulthood really is just a

Funeral where everyone 

Laughs at each other's 

Progressive demise.

One Last Hunt

The storm in your chest is a

Caged animal, waiting for 

That one last hunt.

Poised on front foot,

Body weight shifted to rear.

Ready to jump as soon as

You open your gates.

But you're afraid of the 

Turbulence aren't you?

Second guessing your ability to

Bear lightening and thunder?

To protect the flicker of

Light that you haven't lit yet,

You go all lengths to contain 

The storm inside..

And the darkness in your 

Life and winter in your legs.

The animal you are, wanting 

That one final hunt..

But you were afraid of the

Taking chances all your life,

And you wonder how you 

Starved yourself to death.

Lost Decade

Tell me forgotten friend,

About the decade we lost.

Tell me about the weather 

Of far-off places and of

The same place when 

We were far off.

Do other people sound 

The same? Does the movie 

Experience with others

Get better?

Did you buy a PlayStation 

To play with your roommate?

Or started together a

Business?

The beer didn't taste 

The same for me. 

The pillion of my bike 

Remained forever empty.

I lost interest in the video 

Games. Even my girl left

Me as she couldn't fill up

The void you left.

A pitcher forever waits for 

You in beside a half-plate 

Biryani, in every bar I visit.

Tell me if you miss me

The same. Tell me if there 

Are chances to amend.

Tell me if there's hope.

Tell me if we can meet again-

To bike around in the mountains.

Eat, laugh and bitch about 

People in different places,

Like we always did. 

Missed Diwali

How was it this time?
I asked my brother after
Missing Diwali for years.
He said-

The cousin with the funny
Nose had come and we
Made hot-air-balloons like
We did as children.

Grandma took charge of
Of the kitchen to prepare
Her signature once-in-a-year
Vermicelli dish.

Mom planned an elaborate
Rangoli- I helped her fill
The colours - she teared up
While she put your name
In the bottom.

Dad of course was
Grumpy all morning.

He did test everyone's
Patience yesterday evening
While he made all of us
Clean the house.

By 11 am today when
Everyone gathered to offer
Flowers to your photo.
Dad broke down for the
First time in three years.

I haven't cried it out yet.
And I've stopped bursting
Crackers. And just like
The future ones would-

This Diwali was grand too
In your memory.

Pessimism

Standing alone at the balcony

With a cigarette. Ashtray on

The railings. Peeking hesitantly 

At the window of the apartment 

Infront of you-

A family having dinner with 

Elders and kids.

You don't even recall what's it

Like to have a partner now.

Been years since your wife passed.

And you're not sure if you deserve 

Love again this late in life.

This woman you've fallen in love,

Twenty years younger.

The long letters you write her

And tone down before sending.

Why can't you meet her despite 

Her insistence?

So used to driving your broken

Car that when the mechanic 

In a distant road offers to fix it-

You let it pass. 

So afraid of another breakdown 

After getting it fixed-

You're weary of hope invading 

The cucoon of your comfort. 

So you carry your ruins on your 

Back to tell yourself that the light 

At the end of the tunnel is another 

Train coming to crash your life.

Pretty neat pessimism to avoid 

Conflict in life.

Pickles

I had to accompany you that day.

You forced me in fact, saying

You want me to accompany you

Till your hostel in another city.

As we sat giggling and talking,

Our faces so close- I could feel

Your breath and the brush of 

Your hair on my cheeks.

It could have been a kiss.

But I wasn't ready for something 

Like that - consciously maintaining 

A distance, freeing my hand

From your clutch-

Did I have an aversion to touch?

Beats me. I've let go of too many 

Could have been and would 

Have been moments like that.

These incomplete moments,

That swell in my veins now-

Ready to blast. But for what?

Fresh flowers as homage to

Graveyards in my heart?

And what should I do with

This fragrance of regrets?

Preserve it in another bottle 

Of brine? - Pickles to taste again,

In the future when I 

Reminisce about these lost 

Moments because I overthought 

About the consequences?