Valentine’s Day


She claimed to have fallen for me,
everyone at the college said so.
I was not sure.

I saw her eyes,
when they were on mine
were transformed
into a brightest star I once saw
from the roof of my home
oh my humble home
The smallest place to dwell
and I heard a bell!
she only loved
my borrowed clothes,
my stolen boots,
My shiny watch
from a wealthy cousin,
A charity gift.
she only loved
An image of mine
I let it pass….

on February 12th her friend told me
That she was expecting some gift from me
I madly made a wretched decision
to buy the reddesd cherries for her
To show my passion and profess my love

I started saving some notes,
stole some more,
counted all my previous dough
To give her on February 14th,
The reddest cherries of them all

One night before that fateful day,
my mother went all funny, I say
and asked for my precious money
I asked her, why?, she did not tell,
I declined but ‘nothing’ she uttered

Next day I saw a heinous sight,
My mother’s body in sunlight.
Drenched in a pool of red
half dropping from her bed.
the color of her vomits
was the Pure and Red
I threw my money but
Kept my promise
of giving my love
The reddest cherries.

She accepted them with my apology,
They were pressed on my way to her
In red she was dressed
The juice dripped from her lips
which were tightly pressed.

I saw her as my eyes flood
drinking up my mother’s blood.


Once in a lifetime


Lets live life,

Moment by moment,


Not in hours and days,

Neither weeks and months,

And never in years, definitely!


Centuries, you ask?

Oh but that is the best.

There is nothing finer,

Than living centuries.

But it must be done

In a single moment.


Centuries in a moment,

Never pass by.

I know I had spent

That moment with you.

And now you live it,

Every bit,

With someone else.


Yet, I have

My moment

with me.

Preserved forever,

For centuries.



Have you ever been so close to a person,

that when you think about them,

you hear the sound of their voice,

the aroma of their personality,

not exactly as if they were sitting,

right beside you

but almost so.

As if they were a dish,

you could almost

taste on your tongue.


I had!


And now!


I smell a cigarette and wit,

a bit.

I hear poetry and a song,

not so long.

What I do not feel

is betrayal

we were close,

but not so close!

The Gutter Source

People who live in their past are only minutely different from the ones who live in the moment.

They only rely on their first mistake to maintain their supply of chaos for future use instead of looking for new sources to destroy their soul.

When to stop looking?

She was not standing in his line of vision but he saw her. He knew there was a woman waiting for him at home, the one he had married with his own consent, crushing all societal norms while doing it.  He knew it and he remembered it. Yet, he looked.

She knew he was looking at her and she liked it. She knew he was married but she liked it.

Happily Destroyed

He was always full of philosophical questions.  I could have answered them all but I never did.  A query hanging in the air made him happy and that in turn made me happy.

After all, we are all after our own happiness.

One day he put forward his most favorite query. “What do we all want? ”

I hated this one because I knew what I wanted and there was no way I could get it. So this last time he said it, I made the fatal mistake of answering him.

“Every single one of us is looking for a desirable method to destroy ourselves”, said I. He was amazed. He had an answer, a key to his destruction. He left.


I was left alone to bathe in the glory of my destruction or salvation.

A Toy


She was standing.  There was a stone beneath her feet. She and the stone were both composed of the same elements but in their own unique combination.

A little boy used to play with the stone. He considered it his property.  The girl was played by the society. The society considered her its property.

Same elements,  different combinations, same role.



20160311_044115All your life you’re told to look inside yourself. Well if not directly, then in some indirect way. Like for example, you are told to read books and you do that and end up learning about all the soul-searching. So years after that you somehow decide to do that,the soul-searching I mean.

You simply pause all the lalalalala going on inside your head,the dha dha dha in your heart and whatever thuk thuk thuk happening to your soul and there is silence. Everything is still, stopped, except your eyes! Your whole being gathers together as a pair of eyes and sets to observe your innermost self….your core! These eyes of yours do so, just like your worldly self goes to an art exhibition and examines everything, searching for something extremely interesting, thought provoking, shocking, even sad, in fact anything of substance!

But Alas!

There is not a single thing of…

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