TANGLED VIBES

The only thing

2019-12-02T20:45:00.002+05:30

Image Copyright - Ankur Anand

On the bedside table.
Holy like your promises. unchanged,
Is a photograph
Of you and me.

Through the cobwebs of time.
I still can see. the love
Distant as echo,
Yet it makes me smile.

It sits there
in the cheap wooden frame.
The only thing in the house,
Still ours.

Wanderlust You !

2018-02-23T01:11:00.000+05:30

The lines on a map trace out,
Like pronoia seeps in veins under my skin,
You bit me with your forget-me-not hazel eyes

And now I'm poisoned with constellations,
It makes sense though. Where you are,
Is where every road in my body leads to.

P.S - I am sorry to every one of you, really finding it hard to be in sync with corporate life and blogger life.

Sense Of Love !

2016-06-19T20:16:00.001+05:30

Love may not arrive tomorrow,
Or today or in between the question,
and answer pause
I’m not sure how long it takes,
Or whether it come
all at once, or piece by piece
I only know the one,
Wrapped around your hazel eyes
Where you hold a day,
Fill it with a lifetime
and still have room
for tomorrow.

Footprint !

2016-02-21T20:46:00.002+05:30

I tried to let my heart,
rest it's wings
but it always start
to wiggle and jiggle
hearing you in the shimmer
of the silence,
feeling you in the space
between white lines

never looking away from your eyes
holding a card, a little longer than
it should,
for i am yours
and you who questions why
wondering about what you
have left behind
that i hold

"the footprint"
all angels leave a mark on this world
yours are made by guiding me home,
inside my fragile bones

Spoonful Words

2016-01-30T11:35:00.001+05:30

I want to write you words that are greater than the sum of your victories, and less than the sum of my mistakes. Words that can be seen from the city's skyline and from the harbor that I call home because I don’t have grant gesture to show you how much I care about you perhaps I’d never have. Words that can withstand any distance put between them, because they are true with sincerity that still feel you even in the space between these white spaces. Words that are strong enough for both of us to live by or maybe just for me

I want to write you words that exist in my head and my heart right now, but will soon become only my to keep yet I don’t know how to write to you. I want to ensemble sentences that will fix the flux of emotions you felt, and passages that can connect two lonely dots that will live too far apart from each other on a world map, how everything is different with you, how my own heart fill the air yet makes space for you between each one call while my head loses sense with ground and yet I’ve nothing to show for it to you

I want to write you words that carry the weight of earnest affection and reach the delicate part of your ribs. They will teach you how to swim and carry the strength that pushes against the tides that pull the lonely in. They will harvest the waves of emotions that come with every ounce of uncertainty and doubt, that try to reach out to you in darkness, hoping to find traces of you, while I was missing talking to you wondering do you ever miss listening to me

I want to write you words that will teach me how to shake off promises that I have wrote at the end of every bottle when I see every crack within your silhouette and sincerely appreciate the beauty in your flaws; the ones that are sealed with a feeling that will never belong to us. I let each sip of the glass teach us lessons that shouldn’t be learnt. I let the poisonous liquid make too many mistakes for me to keep.

I want to write you words that will teach me how to outrun the shadows that arrive at my doorsteps late at night. They weave in and out of the stories you tells me with your hazel eyes each reminding me you were not mine to keep as I fall asleep without you by my side.

But these words will suffice all of that. They will be kinetic in sparks and motions. They will be sleep-strewn and disarrayed in stained sheets with rationality.

These words will tell you that I am here, and always will be here, that I loved you through every moment of your weakness within every atom of my existence, and that I will love you through the great dark sea ahead within every fiber in my honest bones...

Oral Waves !

2015-10-06T11:57:00.003+05:30

Even in those moments where loving yourself seems like the hardest thing in the universe, I need you to remember this, I will love you fiercely when you feel like you least deserve it, quietly when you make mistakes, boldly when time slips like sand between your kissed fingers, madly in your nomadic forms, truly when you feel like broken, across every tectonic plates and surpass time zones picking up the broken pieces, on every tattered edge, because I say your name with hope in my chest.

I know loving you is sometime very hard, but I promise I will always, because your smile ripples my fragile bones.

Ceasefire violating Contour !

2015-09-17T17:00:00.000+05:30

Like a Sunday morning your smile respirate a galaxy of warmest color that sheets a tangled weave of letters, that i replay in my head, somnolently in late night;smiling, it creates a sandstorm- tempest of the binding whispers of the moment when our eyes used to meet, folding me into a jungle of minutes for bewildered reactions of blink slanted sight, and then again rising like repetition, like respiration with concertina tapping back to chests, bolting out my lungs, like an asphyxiant in sweet favors whisper with glorious release in the pleasure of your grip.

Orion and Stars !

2015-03-21T14:16:00.001+05:30

Orion and Stars

In opulent Night Sky

Preaching another- Neon Lies

Love Affair of Earth and Moon !

2015-03-01T22:21:00.001+05:30

With So many Men,

Falling at her Feet,

She Chose the one,

-Still Standing

"Summing up the Love affair of Earth and Moon"

P.S- I've been blamed for writing too much much cosmic connection can't help comes naturally sometime .

P.S.S - Image taken in Bangalore or Bengaluru (and yes i'm in love with this place weather now :D )

The Beautiful Evolution Of Strangulation !

2015-02-17T23:23:00.001+05:30

Sometime the way words mix memory and desire in some pseudo-random, uniform distributed fashion that every conditional rationality starts to elude me in countless ripple and I find myself somewhere out there, losing me in the chipped corners of my heart inside the soul geomerty that have marched on this time's faultless serenade only to leave pieces of dust and smudged fingerprints into the emptiness of no answer.

In these hours when people's heart weigh more than the Earth Mass, I find myself with my hands open, heart out rearranging hopeful sentences that can't be measured up neither can withstand any distance put between them and chasing down people who do not want to be found or profess absolutes (even though i have learnt not to). I let the nostalgia sip in and your dancing silhouette grind my bones into dust and breaks the existence of my molecule into atoms with an algorithm that beat into yours submission.

I let the blazing hot cosmos of your heart and the star written in your eyes connect the two dots that live too far apart from each other on a world map. I let all of your 3am lows and all of your brokenness that terrifies you the most harvest the waves of emotions out of me that come with every ounce of certainty that, if i had the choice, i would still choose to give my heart to you; Minute after minute, hour after hour, day after day, eons after eons but i don't have a grand gesture that can be seen from the city's skyline to show how much I care about you or perhaps i will never have.

Perhaps i have let in the beautiful evolution of strangulation that i didn't choose to fall in love with you; it happened without my consensus for the very things that separate you from the immortals like the flaws of having a smile that respirate a galaxy of warmest color that holds the purity of life or the imperfections of having a lot of undiscovered scrawled natural world within every misplaced hair that covers those hazel eyes of yours or the fault of having a divinity in every careless gesture that can light up the sky with a thousand tiny flashes with uncertainty. I will always fall for the hardest.

But then the ends find me, as it always does just like very last cup of coffee. May be I am blurred visions whose minds just shifts back to times or to traces of first times, last times, one more times. So we are what we will be, changing only what we could, only what we can, only what we should. It's only when we see will we ever know, if and when this change has done us any good. Because if I spend the rest of forever wondering what you feel like, that is a life I will be proud of, but will always prefers to have lived the other, because my Constellations are made up of every bits and pieces of Conversations that we had and a simple hope for more than stolen JPEG'S memory.

P.S- This post might be crap for you "but don't forget to appreciate my Drawing" :P :P

P.S.S - There are lots of things that i have missed this year including reading every one else post *Sincere Apologies * .

Mesmerizing Gaze !

2014-09-01T22:59:00.002+05:30

“Closing quotes”, “Stretching out sentences”, “Indenting paragraphs”, Tucked between the feathery eyelids. You say it, I see it, write it finely with pen, between quantum leaps of for-get-me not of my racing, pacing, on for miles heart, even when I barely know it. A so cherished gift you give, in a momentary gaze, yet seldomly seen.

अश्क..चाँद..के..!

2014-08-18T13:24:00.000+05:30

आज एक ख्याल आया फिर बरबस इस दिल मैं,
तनहा फिर हुआ मै भरी महफ़िल मैं.

सोचा तू है एक उदासी या किसी की अधूरी ग़ज़ल,
या मेरी ही तन्हाई का महज़ एक रुक हुआ पल.

शर्मीला हो गया चाँद, बुरखे मैं बाहें अब बादल,
दर्द इश्क मै देखा इतना , जितना विधवा की पलकों का बहता काजल.

सुनाई कविता किसी तारे ने चांदनी को, हो गयी वो उसकी कायल,
चाँद भी हो गया जब अकेला , बेदर्द दर्द भी हुआ तब घायल.

रातों मै बिछ गयी रुसवाई , जब दिलों मै आई बेवफाई,
इश्क चाँद से ही था चांदनी को , जाने क्यूँ लफ़्ज़ों मै न कह पाई.

अश्क बहते हैं आज तक उसके,हम कहते उन्हें चाँद के दाग,
इश्क हुआ था सदियों पहेले उसे, लगी है आज तक एक आग.

सदियों तक बहें उसकी पलकें , भर गए सात समंदर,
खोयी वही चांदनी है तू, इस चाँद सा मेरा दिल का मंज़र

Crossing the Rubicon !

2014-08-04T03:12:00.001+05:30

With the advent of flames, traced back to you. The dreams that beget pain and inexplicable tranquility. And I see you standing in dense mist-in a place inaccessible, isolated and every few nights shattering my cozy, oblivious sheaths of escapist solitaire by your resounding echoing laugh, your wicked twitch of eye, your subtle brushing of a random, stray strand of hair and then smiling again, delving me further deeper into the vertigo of nothingness, where I lose my existence and burn and incinerate into cinders that buoyage forth into deep grey skies painted with my sense of loss, in quest of you. WHERE ART THOU? Lost? Oblivious to Love? Now I know why stars burn. Every night, they too lost their beloved-comets who went on their quest leading those stars alone. Shame and guilt over-rides a Comet's mind or heart (if she has any).The reason why the tail of a comet always faces away from the stars.

I know you've got nothing to do with whatever is written here, yet so engaging, every single word written traces back its direct or indirect origin to you. And your eyes because they say it best "when you say nothing at all". And your silly cute gestures. And the way you used to turn your head sideways when you see something good. Yes, I'm crazy enough to remember all that 'maybe non-sense' to you. Sometimes I just want to escape, from a pair of brilliant-brownish-black or to be peculiar your hazel eyes (I won't lie this time that they were blue, or azure just to make poetic impact), black as the deepest night hue one would see, hid behind feathery eyelashes, even darker than the eclipse sky. Your eyes would know how brutal they've been-having taken away the sleep from my eyes .And it was Dreams I was talking about. I too had a dream (Matin Luther King anyone?).When battling with you though, finally surrendering I fall into the arms of sleep, I see all my fears confronting me head-on. You know you are like Xanax. Take Xanax. It will ease you pain away for a while.it will do so and make you feel good about you shitty existence if taken in good quantity. You won't suspect a thing. You won't know that you're just a log of teak-wood and Xanax is an elegant woodworm working his way all through you-destroying you in a way you even won't oppose. It has the virtue of making you say- 'Just let go' .So are you. A cuter, million time more alluring, tempting, and a trillion timer more dangerous version of Xanax-because of your virtue of creating the illusion of tranquil ecstasy. Victim (me) feels like he had submerged into an infinite ocean of euphoria after taking Xanax. Somehow he realizes what Xanax is doing to him. Gets himself together and finally finds him drawn inside a hallow vertigo once more.

Eyes closed. Attempts to escape into some parallel world of his where you are still his to love to. Whey he still walks with you, and you shed your inhibitions just be his, forever, and just as the inches between our lips decrease, I experience a vacuum, too strong to resist, stronger than the pull of Black Holes, and bang-I find my arms supporting my body when I sit erect facing the ceiling of my room, beads of sweat trickling down the forehead to mark their way to jaw-bone and then to the blanket. I’m gasping, I’m suffocating, and I’m asphyxiating. This was a DREAM! And I still do not have the strength to call this a nightmare. I’m back to reality. In a world without you. Where I smile, I be with other people, always divided into small fractions of myself, the rest of the divided me thinking about you-Always, Every moment, passing second, waiting for this eternal painful wait to get over and you lurk somewhere-still oblivious to this, smiling with people, faking their interests, there’s a mention of my name and you respond- "What on earth is wrong with him. Don’t talk about him”. I smile and then flashes the moment you held my hand and both of us prayed for the moment to never end. That’s what is wrong with me, I look down and at my hand-still find that your fingers were perfect to fill this empty space between mine!

The Rejected Deliverance !

2014-07-21T02:46:00.002+05:30

Sometime I feel,
Why can’t I speak,
of the sky
and the worlds that I see
Perhaps my words are as
little as me.

I see oceans so deep,
filled with broken people’s love weep;
Clouds so dark
because of the rain that break their heart;
A flying ship, stars that can shoot,
Perhaps my life is best spent astute.

I see vast blue skies,
blue due to million spoken lies;
Poor planets cries in form of rains,
for the moon when his/her heart pains;
but they heals with dry eyes and their rings again spin,
Perhaps my patience runs thin.

I see flow of God’s art,
art that can rip your heart apart;
Sparks so tiny,
Engulfing a forest into flames huge and shiny;
A foes that can fry, friends that can fight,
Perhaps my waifs never outlast after night.

I see a seeming sad, silent moan,
inside holding a mighty teary cyclone;
Waves rising so high,
just to last for a minute before they die;
but tonight I speak,
and writes this rejected bleak,

because the dark-space is nigh,
and about to attack;
with so much to see; so much more sky,
fate wouldn’t bring me back
as vast hope will again capture me,
in some another sea.

But tonight I speak,
because in dark my freedom is at peak.

Coffee Love !

2014-07-09T22:44:00.001+05:30

Lately I have been consuming too much of coffee so that my mind and heart can learn the tightrope of symbiosis. I leave the city when it’s half asleep so that I can sit alone in the coffee shop around the corner; when the lights on the highway shines a little brighter than usual; when I feel my heart get lost in the world that isn’t half as bad as they make it out to be. I take a sip of coffee and feel warm liquid wash down into the pit of my stomach. I try to leave my mind outside these four walls that imprison me here.

There is a war that goes on between my two realities; it catches me off guard when I’m tired of dreaming out loud. One cup in and I feel the knots in my mind loosen. I feel there is so much more than the blue skies. There is this parallel world in parallel far away dreams, perhaps a free falling dream, mine, yours, Zero gravity, dreams; dream in which anything true or conscious is blurred, all thin lines are erased, a dream in which you and me or two sub-conscious coalesce. I see the dark sky filled with sparks of light and punctuated, neatly with stacks of clouds and pictures of you.

Two cup in and I’m thinking of the better half of me; the one that lives in between sheets of paper and coffee cups. My heart is use to words in permanent black ink, but yours comes alive with neon insignia and falls into my palms; Like your eyes that can speak a million different words with just one stare with a mere glance. Three cups in and I feel the stars have aligned and I’m floating above the ground on the childhood dreams that lived in the clouds and under leagues of lakes. A dream is still a dream regardless of the shape it takes and as I grew up realities seemed to shine brighter than my dreams that were softly whispered to the darks. I try to find myself in the cracks of these realities and dreams that ever really mattered.

More cups in and I find these clinking cups and clanking mugs providing the kinetic energy that sent sparks into motion. I am soaring with loops of figures that begin to fill my time in this tiny space. I let you to unfold yourselves in my veins; to feel the vibrations in your words that washes over my soul, to feel the pluses within the atoms that surrounds your laughter that plasters my restless nights with stitches of beauty found in the abounded; to collect those fragments of memories because our hand can’t touch and our lips can’t speak, like Styrofoam in my carbon cells, until they combust my skin into beautiful flames.

Too many cups later my hearts race with the tide that rises with the moon and I am bad decisions with a lonely word that drifts from my fingertips as my coffee cups burns my lips and I swear if those fires has mouth, the burns were kisses; that never creates meaning out of the mundane. I am lit by the stars that watches your coffee go cold in the crescents of the morning, floating into oblivion because I’m learning to let time zones and clocks remind me that ‘falling in’ and ‘falling into’ is different and fix me.

Bittersweet !

2014-06-23T08:51:00.001+05:30

I was so caught in silver afternoon trance that I thought I can understand all-contained unspoken thoughts of yours before it comes from those pink slippers lips, perhaps I could grasp it from the hazel eyes of yours, but I didn’t, not really. The halves that I understood was only the smudginess of your kohl and semi-precious eagerness of yours that halved me into half. I didn’t realize, I didn’t know that two paths diverged in those mirror utopia, with nothing but the visible spectrum of in-between bits, towards the memory of whole bits of you and gory bits of me.

I Will !

2014-06-13T06:07:00.001+05:30

I will love you
in fraction of your mistakes
not just in the sum of your victories

I will love you
in the pause between each syllable
not just in the sentences that are kissable

I will love you
with all my affections
not with any kind of fabrications

I will love you
in every sore from the tears
not just in the collective happy years

I will Love you
in all your imperfections
not with any expectations

I will love you
in all your life’s dark night
not just when you’re radiating, so bright.

I will Love you
until my demise
this I promise.

An Arranged Marriage Arrangement Gone Wrong !

2014-06-06T05:33:00.000+05:30

Those who are up for an arranged marriage at some point of time your parents will setup an arranged date for you so that you can decide if you want to get married or not.

what if that date goes wrong because you met some creep head? How would you deal with such people ?

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P.S – Updated the “About me ” Page on my blog, in timeline fashion, since lot of people was getting false impression of me . Have a look! But just lower your expectation (a lot) so that I may seem awesome to you.

P.S.S - If you see your blog name's header file design there and if you feel invasion of your property. just say me i will remove them . it was it just that i felt designing the complex name of your blog will be a great learning curve..

Vintage Swallow !

2014-06-02T21:38:00.001+05:30

It’s been a while since I breathed with my words and to be precise with you. Wandered off like drift wood in the pacific of your thoughts. I swear I thought that this time I would not break but now I’m feasted upon by the idea of you like a food in front of a hungry shark and I offer myself to you again with a heart even more you own. It’s really hard to close the door that you’ve fought to keep open before. The dream that beget from the air that holds the fragrance of yours or the marks of your lips that you left on the glass while drinking water, finds you in everything that you have once touched or made a part of somehow.

Every word written here has traces of origin back to you, because you have had a way with my head. I’m not going to deny that I was not aware of your beauty. But the point is my words has nothing to do with your beauty. As I got to know you I realize beauty was least of your qualities. You instills grace in every common things and divinity in every careless gesture, that easy smile that slip past your lips quickens my heart and catches in my throat, your introspective pose looks like wonder and those beautiful pair of eyes are like fall. You would never see what I’ve seen. The way the gold strands encircle the iris of yours because the thread of Aurelian is small enough to only be visible up close and if you haven’t seen the gold you haven’t seen the auburn either. Those beautiful reddish flecks that shine through your eyes like piece of glass on a Mandela. You just see the brown while looking at your eye while the first thing that comes to my mind while looking at your eyes is brown chocolate or to be fancier chestnut, I see the sepia as the golden rays light when you look at me, your eyes go henna when you looks in the mirror and start complaining about your hair, the shining ochre go fade when you are upset, the burnt sienna, the amber filled cinnamon and the way your eyes look like the leaves surrounding the darkened backdrop of a softened tree. You haven’t seen the fall I guarantee you, you haven’t seen it at all.

Submerging once again into the deep pools of solitude I again scratched word after word for you as if you have settled into the sedimentary of my spinal fluid. Ah! What another fine mess I have got myself into. I wish I knew how to quit you because despite quite wrestle I’m tangled up in you, and somehow find you and I collide, because your soul speak in ways your tongue does not know yet. You pierce my soul, half agony, half hope. Come over we’ll bake cookies together in the kitchen. I’ll paint a white down your nose and twirl with flour around the plywood wood floor beneath our feet. I want to memorize the mess we could make and lying on the floor with flour in our hair. But only if my silly words woven into a tapestry of meaningless color means something to someone like you when you read this, else give me a lighter I want to burn it down.

An Unusual Museum !

2014-06-02T16:47:00.000+05:30

My poetry is a museum
where I keep my skins
peeling it off after
taking off all my clothes
in a place full of unknowns,

someday people pick the flowers
to bring to the graves of all the skins
I shed in the form of my words

Some gets so comfortable
they want to see every inch
of my skin

Other are too terrified
that they put daggers into my neck,
the moment I unbutton my collar button.

Origin of sentence and Parallel life !

2014-05-28T03:57:00.001+05:30

Off late I have been spending most of the time staring at my laptop screen searching for something that will illustrate a written prescription of a scrambled heart, running my fingers over the pages to feel the indentations of my pen that has released a dam of so many noun, adjectives and verb onto papers without worrying about correct sentence structure and grammar or anything like that. This isn’t the first time, I know how this goes, and it’s a route I understand well.

But this isn’t a problem doc.
The problem exists somewhere in the quantum physics of reality, I pretend to live in doc.

Individual alphabets exist in space. All those twenty six alphabets coalesce to form millions of colossal elements over another trillion of years. We christen this thing as a “word”. These words keep on gyrating-sticking with another tiny word till a “sentence” is formed.

But the problem was I wasn’t able to make sense out of these sentences doc.
tick, tock doc.

And then those sentences were attracted towards her planet. It entered the atmosphere and experienced something known as friction to most people. Since these sentences have spent their night in her thoughts, these sentences were rushing towards its end-ever so oblivious of the fact that I may never be able to restructure it again. Some call it – My written naught. She need to simplify things to the extent that they cease existing. Convenience-addicted that she is. Naïve.

But I need something to live for, doc.
Something to make my chest feel full sometime, doc.

And since now you view that in a completely different light. But the fact remains-alphabet it was and alphabet it has to be. It was just sentences, poor destiny that had re-invoked trust for its destruction in it, ironical, isn’t it?
When all of a sudden it happens to know that it may never reach its ultimate abode. It sees something vast-more than itself, a white sheet. Place found to live, but this was not the warmth sentence dreamt of while visualizing its meaning. It was struggling to find any warmth. It was suffering, slowly and steadily- withering the every last bit of its alphabets. All alphabets of sentence were distraught. They no more were bounded by fate to be together. Each one of them dispersed onto paper and got locked down into the darkest part of the dark drawers probably now lined with cobwebs and a dead squirrel too.

See I’m having two sided conversations again doc.
So give me all you have got, I don’t have energy to run anymore doc.

The moments for which the alphabets had long waited for, had numerous dreams about took a weird turn. This was life essence.

But now I’m stuck doc.
In between every line, every word, every punctuations, every proper space doc.

I’m running out of time with myself doc, because now even the shooting stars know how to tell time better than the grenades in my self worth do.
So write in your legal pad, diagnose me, fill my prescription until then
I’m replacing my heart with cigarette butts, alcohol and dandelion seeds because I need to grow something in me that understands poison from the inside doc.

I’m sorry I’m really drunk doc.

P.S – I don’t smoke or do drugs and neither do I recommend. Just used to make post more intriguing.

P.S .S - Experimental Writing !

How to Make Someone Fall in Love with You !

2014-05-20T03:29:00.002+05:30

Sometimes we meet someone and we just know: it's love. However, it isn't always easy to make them realize that maybe they love you too. So If you've fallen for someone and you'd like them to feel the same way about you, here is one suggestion if nothing else works which has been tried and tested formula in Bollywood movies for over a decade (before SRK changed this approach) to help you encourage their feelings along in the right direction, all you need is a little jump :P

Official partner - "B to T" Wood movies of twentieth century !

This post have not been created with an intention to hurt sentiments of anyone or inspire anyone. Its just for fun and if you are really getting inspired after reading this then you seriously need a psychiatrist :P

PS :- My sincere apology to all those psychopath who somehow landed on this post through search engine by searching "how to make someone fall in love with you" ! :P

Enchantress !

2014-05-17T11:01:00.000+05:30

There is this girl when you begin to know her, you will feel you have a galaxy of “I love you’s” inside of you to spill onto her and if you will look into her eyes really you will realize those two brilliant kohl lined eyes actually makes an infinity, and gives you forever within a fraction of a second. She may not be most stunning and gorgeous, but she is God’s beautiful work of art; radiating aliveness into your soul because she is what Charles Bukowski meant when he said “Find what you love and let it kill you”.

[P.S- Those who have heard the "Q jaanu Na(initial one paragraph version)" the song that i wrote and posted few daysback as 100th post here is a link you can download the studio version of it Download (full song) . Do give your feedback though its not too good i must admit but since its the first one so i'm sharing it shamelessly :D ]

Fake Book Covers - 1 !

2014-05-13T04:08:00.000+05:30

What if Some of the best selling books written by known author had been written by Indian politicians, businessman and celebrities that are so honest that they put YoSoHonest Arvind Kejriwal to shame? :P

So I redesigned the original cover of some books that i thought should see the light of the day.

P.s - There are more in this series (some half designed and some still in mind) and will be posting it soon (any idea or new title about book cover that you think should be added do mail me [credit would be given] ).

Crackling Realization !

2014-05-10T01:44:00.000+05:30

I’ve been writing for ten seasons now
sometime in the five o’clock shadow
to overcome my apathy for survival,
sometime to get out of
my candle waxed dreams
that I have burned at the cross
with mainstream reality,

sometime cross-stitching
my longing
and stringing every vowels
like Christmas light
to write anything worth putting
a meaningful title to

but none of it worked
until I started to let my bones
to get burned
in the mouth of madness
and realized
brightest are the flames
that burns the most

So now I drink my thoughts straight
and smoke out every words that comes
but that doesn’t mean I’m poet
or lover or writer or anything worth calling

may be just a ghostly cyborg
turned into punching bag metaphors
who prefers chaos
between love and peace
for learning how to live in myself

because when as a kid I was asked
what’s the difference between
love and war?
I told them I don’t know the difference

and now I’m almost twenty two
and the only difference
I saw
is that one gives you a medal
for surviving.