Her story

I saw my poetry sink in bathtub, she was rehearsing for her coffin it seems,
swinging between nightmares and dreams,
she wanted to give up her reality.

Draped in white,
tired of chasing colors
where being with blue meant being on the wrong side of yellow.

tired of breeding salt in eyes
where people come to enjoy the shores but never embrace the waves

Twin willing

am willing to quench everything that leaves you thirsty,
are your emotions willing to hold any water for me,

am willing to tame every wave that leaves you drowning,
is your sail willing to give up the shores for me,

am willing to let go the boundaries that bind you,
are your steps willing to trace their journey back to me,

Tragedy of a piano solo

Tragedies drowned in melodies,
struggling to swim past the channel of memories,

it wasn't just music,
it was a confession making its way through lyrics,

the words no one else could listen played loud in your mind,
sailing on the notes that vividly rhymed,
with the journey...

things just felt right before going wrong,
those scattered emotions made the piano solo into your song..


Thoughts strayed for an affair with words
Silence stayed back to cope with anything heard,

But the crush ended for the one-sided love,
Words weighed too much for the meek heart to glove,

Echoes of scream exploded beneath the flesh,
While the calm face blanketed all the mess

Tongue was left dry with the last of syllables already ripped,
And the world found my world tight-lipped...

Happy new year

Somewhere between what you are and always wanted to become,
A calender goes off the table with a new one about to come,

A string of moments cutting through your watch,
you hustled hard to up yourself by a notch,

At times rushing through timeline,
moments cornered you and two-timing the commitments just felt fine,

Swimming in the routine pool,
You just let an ocean pass through,

Cheers !!! You still kept yourself afloat,
A Happy New Year to you

कौन हो तूम

शरद पूनम का चाँद हो तूम,
या मेरे सपनो का बाँध हो तूम,
होंठों पे बिखरा गुलाल हो तूम,
या भौहों की मधमस्त चाल हो तूम,

आज का इंतज़ार हो तूम,
या कल की मुलाकात हो तूम,
सदा धधकता जस्बात हो तूम
या मेरे प्रेम का सार हो तूम.


Sometimes there is no plan in place,no goal in sight,
but the journey has to go on.

Sometimes there is no check in place, no one to say right or wrong,
but the job has to be done.

Sometimes there is no outlet to the emotion,no proof of even its existence,
but the shaken heart has to be balmed.

Sometimes there is no shoulder to cry on, no place to hide tears,
but the tides have to be emptied.

Folded page

Life had some moments where heart was in dilemma,

whether to pump-up in rage
to skip the beat,

whether to rush through the emotions
pause to repeat,

whether to break open the chest
bury it deep.

But i decided not to tear the page then,

and orphan the story of an infant emotion.

Just left it blank and folded,

in the arms of unfinished story,

which is still unfolding with every passing heartbeat,

with a hope that ink will mature one day,

just enough to let the folded page bloom into an answer,

heart felt for but couldn't seek.