Sunday, 22 October 2017


This time, when I choose the colour of my note,
The note I love to scribble down-
The note that escapes getting damp all the time I pour down my thoughts on it-
I prefer to choose grey.
The mix of black and white
The colours of yesterday
Where things were either good or bad
And you did either right or wrong
And you either laughed or cried.
I have gone allergic to colours-
The hues that combine complex shades
And deceive your vision
And confuse you with half comprehension-
That you stand perplexed
Lost within the choice
Amidst too many colours...
I hope we moved back
To black and white.


Sneeking through curtains, laughing loud, the sunshine of her life.

Friday, 20 October 2017

Cul-de-sac #26

Rohan's study room.
10 pm.
Tears rolled down his cheeks as his parents took turns to chisel down his math paper.
His wet pillow lulled him deep into a cul-de-sac, wondering why undiagnosed dyslexia never deserved sympathy.


Months soaked in persistence
And days drenched in isolation-
To end in three hours of sheer excellence.
This time, sweat looked beautiful.


The spark that ignited; turned damp on boundaries.

A Simple Message...

A Simple Message...