Posted in Journal


I am overwhelmed.

I feel like my whole world is burning, and the roof is about to fall on my head, bringing down everything with it. There are just too many things, and too many windows and too many doors, but somehow no escape route. I feel trapped in a spiral of unending thoughts and circumstances that never ever lead anywhere. I am dangerously close to the S word. I am fighting it with all my might, but it feels like the only logical conclusion to my existence.

Continue reading “Destruction”
Posted in Verses


She collects memories, 
Proclaimed CK one day,
Pointing to my propped up phone,
And I acknowledged his observation
Smiling and nodding;
My photographs aren't displays
Of mundane days, I declare,
But unique frames
That I wish to retain
In my head, unblemished.
One perfect frame
For one perfect memory.
I gather them all with precision -
Kinship, friendship,
Nature, beauty,
Joy, laughter
And moments of poignancy -
One click at a time.
But somehow, it seems,
Moments with you
Do not fit in those brackets.
My camera stays idle
In your presence.
I wonder why.
Might it be
That the colours you evoke
Are too vivid to be captured
With a lowly lens,
Or too immense to be held captive
Within the confines
Of a five inch screen?
You once told me that no camera 
Compares to the eminence
Of the human eye;
I argued otherwise,
Haughty in my stand.
But today you make me accept a begrudging defeat, 
As I watch the way you burn far too bright,
All day.
Aflame, alive, ablaze;
Glowing with the light of a million dreams,
And yet adrift,
Amidst soft notes of melancholy.
I think of how right you were,
All day, watching you burn too bright
For my frames;
And as you walk away,
Proceed instead
To hold you captive
In the depth of my eyes.
Posted in Musings

A Letter Unwritten

I should be sending you a letter. But I fear that the words would break free from the seal and flow against the test of time. So here I am, caging them in a space where you and I can meet again and again, if only to seek warmth on lonely nights. Like two strangers on either end of a park bench, unspeaking and pretending to be oblivious, and yet comforted by each other’s presence. Here we are, alone and together.

Continue reading “A Letter Unwritten”