Friday, November 18, 2011

it's just a phase.

Mirror mirror

Do I look different today?

Are there any fine lines?

Are there any crow’s feet?

The mirror just smiled today


This never happens

The mirror always has an answer.

Today is a special day

Twenty-nine years eleven months

and twenty nine days

that’s my age.

Hours, minutes and seconds

Doesn’t count

The day is normal

Yet so different

Turning thirty is okay

I thought

Last week my friend

Said, “life begins at thirty”



I know

And the spending takes a different turn too

Confused and half minded today

I celebrate that last day

But the world doesn’t end

I am the same me

And you are the same you

Won’t you be?

Then there is



And so many other products…

What do you say?


Oh common

I tend to keep them.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

Magnolia, me and the broken stream.

The magnolia stopped talking to me

can you believe it

he has stopped talking

reasons...well not known

with drooped head

he only sighs

a sunken heart and his branches

fall on the broken stream.

There's a rumour

that he is in love

the broken stream sings

sad romantic songs for him

Oh! what a love

what about me

nothing much

I only watch

these days I am much of observer

it's better not to comment

for first I have lost my nose ring

and now i have lost myself

does the magnolia care


but he is sad for I am lost in the woods

and butterflies circle around me

and he sighs...

and the broken stream sings

some sad love songs

they are in love

that's the last thing

that I have heard.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011


As you look for me

in the unkempt bed,

I laugh, for you will never find me,

I am dead,

what lies there is a living corpse

(a harsh word indeed)

but aren't you always

harsh to me,

your lust unfolds

to find my desires

and I am satisfied

with a never satiated inner being.

love got lost in lust

lust got lost in love

where I stand

I know not

sometimes somethings

should be left unknown

for now and always...

and you are forgiven

Blow me up

a feeling is there

and there are no words to display

and I suffocate among innumerable words

let me breathe for a while

after that am all yours

entangle me and kill me

by your sheer whispering words

of love.

To Nayantara

I wrote in a pensive mood

of bees, flowers and the

insane me.

I wrote about rainbows

and the misty mountains

and the promises he made during

the monsoon rains.

I wrote about floods

and the soaked heart

and the overflowing witty river.

I wrote about lovers and

their lovelorn hearts,

about you, them

and people lost in translation.

And then I got lost in

the jungle

of bitter phrases

Nayantara, come help me find a better way..