Let me write letters
To the throbbing mailbox
Gated by your ribs,
Where a million questions
Are entrenched in the
Ivy of your veins.
I'd answer a few,
And water the rest
With poems;
Feel the roots
g
r
o
w
Around the sepulchre
In your atrium:
Scarlet wildflowers shaped
Like a staccato of whispers.
Even dead dreams
Deserve eulogies.
Won't you write back to me?

-

Coffee stays cupped in
Two pairs of palms;
And nights don't talk
Just in cricket-tongues.

When I'm with you,
Songbirds sing longer
In an eternal spring
And the milk turns late.

Now, I realize,
Why I'm only left with curd
And why my coffee
No longer stays warm.

-

Not every rebel makes noise.
Some have poetry written all over their math question papers.

-

Do you still think that you are a migrant?

-

I'm cherry picking regrets tonight.
Resuming unfinished songs of
Late night musings, years ago,
From where I left
-- the ones who sang them-- off.
Sealing chipped pieces of
Reluctant conversations
With the kintsugi of warmth;
I want to know
How we would have
Said our goodbyes,
If we hadn't made peace
With the chaos
Our eyes guarded
In hapless silence:
The one that rang as a
Coda in falsetto
Through the skies of
Dying nights.
Maybe we've conducted
Way too many symphonies
In the arrhythmia of
Heartbreaks.
Or maybe, we know that
Tonight is no different.
You'd still sleep with your lights on.
I'd still wait in darkness.

-

Let's bake a cake,
For no reason at all.
Hurl the dryness of our
Stories from last year's sordid
Family gathering and
Gently, bit by bit
Pour the apathy that was
Born after.
Break into it, the sunsets
Of each of our
Heartbreak anniversaries
And mind the quantity
(We've had one too many).
Flavour it with mirthless
Smiles that we've rehearsed
So well to reach our eyes,
And mix well.
Beat each of our hopes and
Dreams and the very
Reasons we've had them:
A melange of lost causes
Coloured in pastels:
It has started spinning
In the heat of our burning hearts.
I know already that
It'll turn out half baked.

-

Homecomings are as awkward as goodbyes.

-

Godhuli Kotha

-

I N F E R N O

-

Bura Na Maano, Holi Hai

-