Storm within

when goal is blurry
alternating amid,
hissing the ears from behind
and going out of mind,

with heart is brewing a cocktail,
skipping beats,doing summersalts ,
mixing blood, whiskey and pale malts,

with curtains growing thick,
as if sewed up by all the handkerchiefs,
eyes ever used to wipe overnight tides,
light deflty kisses the window,
but tired of waiting, perishes into the evening,

when windows are closed,
hiding the fear in room,
from any outside winds,
clouds too gather in suspicion,
flurrying the panes with raindrops,
only to dash and slip down the glass sheilds…

A desk with a view

Sun came up and dived,
Day was over and moon arrived,
He was still stuck with the laptop,
Career swinging amid insecurity and hope,

He was still bugged by the pending tasks,
Dealing with demanding asks,
Mails were screaming for reply,
A corporate gazalle was still holding onto a convenient lie,

On this side of the window….
Bitting nails, fiddling the pens
Consumed by the screens, he was tolling the lens, Desperate to prove his pedigree,
While on the other side, world was breathing free,

Never thought , he had to pay such a steep price, To reach a seat confronting the ocean waves and sun rise,
Leaning on desk with a view,
He would end everyday at midnight,
Thinking if life could offer something new…

We – An Enigma II

World sees us as a couplet,

unaware of the little secret,

we bury beneath our bed,

every night,


making out with the asymmetrical space,

left between us,

a bit more from your side.

Wish i could move one of the four walls,

we exist in,

in between us.


our worlds disaccord till the last comma,

we have kept the full stop to ourselves,

we are not a poetry together,

just a prose trying to find it’s meaning

Late night ecstacies

We parted

but you left your habits with me…

you made me stay awake,

for late night conversations,

for binge watching galaxy from the rooftops,

for eclipising moon through our kisses,

you know,

am still a 3 am person,

now nights are filled with,

dim bulbs,

good books,

lots of coffee,


a bit of dew,


for showing me

the beauty of wrong hours

Her Raging hormones

Sun kissed her lips
Winds groped her curves
Those shallow breaths were enough to dilate the fantasy,
Everytime her cups would bowl up to exude ecstacy,
Palms would harden to slip through pits and numb the splits,
Fingers would corn up to strum her clit,
Lips would be tempted to measure her curves,
Emerging from teenage, her hormones were in a rage and hype,
Her cherry was ripe for popping,
But she was consumed in window shopping

(a try at exploring erotic genre. no offence meant. tried to keep it sensual and away from being vulgar. feedback appreciated.)

Her first rains ..

Her feet were tapping the steps like paino keys,
Unaware that she was raising the rhythm of few heartbeats
She climbed the stairs to reach the deck,
Looked at the sky and sent a peck,
Her sensuality slowly flowered,
From the draped cotton that held gently onto her tight curves,
Her long deep breaths were getting to the afternoon’s nerves,
All the senses were overwhelmed,
And morality was momentarily tamed,
She took off her dupatta and threw it away,
As if telling the world, am proud of my hormonal play,
Then came the rains..
She drenched , she danced,
Never thought beauty and grace could be so nunanced,
As raindrops trickled down her neck,
It felt as if clouds were returning the peck


Scars hid,

Moon had sighted eclipse, and stars refused to meet,

Marks faded,

Tides had drowned the sun for light to be invaded,

Barks screamed,

Silence was broken and pushed to the extreme,

Shadows sided,

Left redundant by the black, they confided,

Fear outgrew,

None of the two eyes agreed to look back, as they knew….

It was “Dark”