Thursday, 31 August 2017

Survivor? Victor.

Of words spoken too soon,
Of words never said at all,
Of doing too much,
Of not doing enough,
Of being too cautious,
Of being too spontaneous,
Of waiting too long,
Of not waiting long enough, 
Of swallowing the feeling,
Of being swallowed by the feeling,
Of smells you can't forget,
Of smells you don’t remember,
Of the panic when you hear a certain word,
Of the pain when you don’t, 
Of daydreams that make you dizzy,
Of dreams that became nightmares,
Of the frozen feet at a certain sight,
Of the midnight run to numb the flashbacks,
Of the lump in your chest,
Of the cold fingertips in a fist,
Of the breathlessness from sitting still,
Of suffocating from too much wind,
You are, all of it.
Of everything you have ever and never felt,
You are.
Yet here you still are.

Here you still are.

Thursday, 27 July 2017


"You misunderstood me", she whispered to the receding shadow, of you walking away.

What was for you an excuse, granting you the freedom you didn't have the courage to ask for, was her reason to live shackled with guilt for years to come.

Unrequited, alternately

He did
She couldn't 
He did
She shouldn't
He stopped
She did
He couldn't.

Tuesday, 7 March 2017


Freshly off the rocky boat that brought you across the sea they call Teenage
The jacket of invincibility fits a size too small suddenly
This new island they call Adulthood is your home now
The rules of land are different from the sea they warn upon arrival
But no one tells you what the new rules are
The first steps on the shore are hard after spending years at sea
You falter, stumble, fall and scratch your skin
The jacket tears apart, ripping at the helms
While you struggle to find foothold on the soft sand
Passersby whisper about how you walk weird
But no one gives you a hand
You see some struggling too, but some others seem so sure
"Experience!", a fellow struggler tells you following your eyes
Eventually the walk gets easier, but just when you find your foothold,
The landscape changes, and they tell you, you gotta keep walking
It's a marshland now, and again the faltering ensues
But it has been a few years on this island already
And you know that there's no escaping it
So you learn to make peace with the idea of this new home
You still are not sure when the landscape will change again
But you know as long as you own your fragility you will be fine
As long as you accept that you're breakable, you will be able to fix yourself
The knowledge is empowering, yet some nights
When it gets a bit too cold here on this island
You miss that jacket, the jacket of invincibility that fell apart at the shore
The waves have probably taken it back and fixed it, you think
And it is keeping some other kid at the sea warm now
And you hope they take care of it
You hope they know its not theirs to keep forever.

Saturday, 28 January 2017

Why I didn't laugh...

I don’t blame you
I really don’t
I am not angry at you
I am really not
You didn’t hurt me
You really didn’t
But when you made that joke
That joke that you had made
A hundred times before
And I had laughed
A hundred times before
Because I thought it was funny
I really did
Only this time I didn’t laugh
And it wasn’t your fault
Just that your joke
Sounded eerily similar
To the voices in my head
That I had silenced
A hundred times before
At 3 AMs, 2 PMs
At 7 PMs, 10 AMs
The voices that I had
Refused victory to 
A hundred times before
Lately they were getting louder
And when you made that joke
The voices laughed in my stead
And I couldn’t silence 
The deafening sound
And I couldn’t laugh over them
Even though I tried

I really couldn’t.

Monday, 18 April 2016

The fraud

She looked his way and with a brisk wave and stifled smile, muttered goodnight and turned towards the door. She left the party and walked a few steps when the familiar voice spoke from behind her. 
“I though we’d never meet again” 
She paused on her way.
“So did I”
He moved a step closer toward her.
“What happened to all your laughter? I used to tell people about it”
She turned to face him.
“Your memories have been kind to me.”
“You seem different. Cold. Whatever happened to the girl everyone fell in love with?”
She looked him straight in the eyes, indignantly.
“She was an imposter. Her fate was the same as that of any other fraud. She got found out and was forced to drop her act.”
He looked back at those eyes and before he could form his thoughts into a sentence, she promptly turned around and walked away as fast as she could, without running. She was glad she didn’t bring her car today and the subway was a long walk away. She’d need the walk.

He wanted to follow her. He wanted to ask her more questions. He was angry. How could she call the only girl he has ever loved an imposter? How could she lose her so easily? 
Yet he couldn’t move. Or speak. He kept standing there for a while after she left. The chilly wind was somehow comforting.

“Honey, here, you forgot your coat inside! Why did you come out in such a hurry?”
He turned around to face the voice. His wife.

“Oh! I am sorry! I just had a call I had to take. Let’s go inside now.”

Tuesday, 9 February 2016

News Of Death

A word in a shriek. Many more words.
She looked up.
Words and more words and more.…
Wait, she can't hear them anymore. Everything is moving. Lips, people, things. Yet she can't hear any of it.
Everything is moving. She is not. She is trying. She can’t.
Her limbs. They feel different. Light? Cold? Warm? Loose? Absent.
She sees everything yet her brain refuses to process her vision.
There's no air. She can't breathe.

A moment. The longest moment her memory permits.

Years later, she will live this moment again. It wasn’t a shriek this time. It was three telephone rings.
And a few more years later, yet again. It wasn't a shriek or a ring. This time it was her name, in an unfamiliar tone, that led the words.

These vacuums never came alone.
There was always a predecessor moment when everything was unassumingly normal, that she would remember with uncanny precision every time her memory took her back to them.
And the succeeding moment when she was thrust into all the chaotic movement and sound around her, with her loose limbs and her sleeping voice gathering sudden voluntary momentum, without her conscious permission.

She never knew what to make of the vacuum.
Was it a monster holding her back too tight, suffocating her and forcefully shutting her ears rendering her mute, inanimate and deaf for the longest minute?
Or was it an angel of kindness, permitting her a moment of transit, devoid of every thing, every feeling, before her life changes forever?
Taking away a piece of her, leaving her broken forever, but gifting her a moment of numbness before she feels it?

A kind monster?