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Joined 18 November 2018

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Joined 18 November 2018

A short syllable
injected into the stream,
~recipe of pain.



Holding his Pond's Moisturizer
to see if his touch exists in it.

Moist memories, and his last touch.


23 MAY AT 21:01

I picture myself
writing about you,
and I write
what I picture you as
~ love.


23 MAY AT 20:42

If every blood drop in me
could sing my poetry,
I would lie no more,
I would lie no less,
I would write your name
as the lyrics of my heart,
and hear it beat
with my breath,
knowing I'm alive,
more than ever.


21 MAY AT 19:18

Perhaps, none of us know love
the way it should be known.


21 MAY AT 9:06

Perhaps, when you say that you are out somewhere,
you simply mean that you're lost within yourself.


19 MAY AT 8:24

Some people leave very subtly. They show you a jhalak of all the stars and stories to make you feel like they've been made just for you, like they're the way they are just for you.

The problem comes when you fly up like a helium-filled balloon, to reach their horizon, to catch their illusion, and to live their hallucination. Everything fades, everything that never existed fades, and you are left all alone in the sky~ flying, hoping, waiting, wanting, dying...


14 MAY AT 20:31

I have been redoing my assignments on ghazal today,
Each line I write, makes me look as a puzzle today.

The words stay fixed, missing every ball, and every run,
the art, in my amateur mind, seems to wuzzle today.

The field, the city, and the galaxy have withered away,
every block looks new, every turn turns to fuzzle today.

My hunger to spill the bags of beans pinches my fingers,
hence, I take a seat in the dastarkhwan to guzzle today.

Why are you still trying to sing your heart here, Aishika?
I want to experience life, in life, without a muzzle today.


16 JAN AT 23:19

•A flower on the grave•


14 JAN AT 23:08

~Who are you?~


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