A stranger posted an odd quote
about death on social media,
and it struck me.

That's when I realised, again,
the quiet nobility of those who
keep the dead alive, like pages
in a memory album that refuses
to close.

Nurturers of the dead’s
memories should be celebrated
more.

-

Where Should I Find Myself?

If this question
doesn’t lead you back to your own doorstep,
then, mind you,
you are a true seeker
a seeker of truth.

Ask yourself,
"Where does my journey end?"
And if it ends,
"Where did it all begin?"

Maybe then you pack your bag and roam the world.
Or earn your riches.
Or love with reckless depth.
Or waste everything you have without regret.

Will you find yourself?
No.
You’ll simply grow weary,
until one day you sit quietly
in the corner of your room,
or high in the Himalayas.

You’ll stare at a bare wall
or watch the sun rise.

And then
you’ll pause.
You’ll smile.

That moment,
you’ll find yourself.
Not in the world
but within you.

-

Who exactly am I in this world?

I'm a loner,
but not a wolf.
I experience everything
under my breath, alone.

During the day,
I try to fit into this world.
During the night,
I misfit in my bed.

From my shadow to any stranger,
I feel them all.
Like an anchor between two worlds,
two timelines, two dimensions,
two thoughts, and whatever exists in twos.

I'm unofficially Bonnie Bennett
from the pool of vampires, werewolves, and witches.
A transient flame,
ready to spark the world
by ambushing a light
she hasn't yet ignited in herself.

Who's going to show her the world
she’s yet to create?

-

A death made me realise -

You are aware about your death but aren't ever ready for it. Your wish is
not anyone's business until it becomes your dying wish. People will do anything for you when you're on your deathbed. People get to know more about you after your death.

In the aftermath, people discuss what went wrong and what could have been done despite knowing that death is inevitable. You receive the last certificate of your life when you aren't there to receive it. The secret of the afterlife goes with you to the other side. Life enters through matter and leaves through matter.

Everything material remains behind because at the end nothing matters.

-

Unpopular Opinion

Too little companionship in real life.
Too much content on social media.

-

Hearth

As my heart is the hearth of my body,
I wished to jump, to dance.
But a fireplace, confined in the
daily diary of routines,
Can’t burn wild like bonfires.

Still, it brings the comfort of chamomile,
Nestled in my breath,
Crackling with the quiet aliveness
Shared among my people.

And yet, I miss the open sky.
To glow like wildfire.
If only that old youth had glowed
a little longer,
To dance now with this newfound wisdom.

-

Have you ever realised?
Why does every new thought,
every emotion,
every strange phenomenon
make us feel so… different?

Maybe because it’s new.
Untouched.
Unlived.
Unfelt.
Still waiting to happen.

Still waiting to become… us.
Maybe?

-

Checkpoint of life

To secure 10 points,
I ran through the entire chapter.
I could afford a 9,
but not the risk of failing.

Now I know,
tests aren’t just pressure.
They’re checkpoints of life,
meant to help us upgrade.

-

If I were a serial killer,
I'd target the ones who own sleep.

My crime style?

Spy.
Barge in.
Tie them to their beds.
Stab them, not with knives
but with disturbing secrets.

Smirk at their open wounds.
Watch them wide awake,
eyes robbed of rest.

Capture the moment on Polaroid,
a souvenir of unrest.

Curse them.
Leave.

-

Mediocre Confession

Iconic movies.
Uncountable books.
Unforgettable poems.

They all put me in a spot of
dilemma. Do I even have the
nerve to awaken emotions
sleeping in the sedated cells of
this dead humanity? How would
I ever be able to move a failed
mind and a broken heart with
mere words of mine?

Will I ever be the reason
behind someone’s happy years,
their coping mechanism, their
little light? Do I even see myself
as that distinguished flame in
the heavy rain? One that matters,
just enough to light a cold fire
with her words?

How would I ever know if they see
me, truly see me, beyond the skin
of me? Will I ever have my reader
and not just an audience?

-