She seems like the tangled pair
of old earphones kept in a dusted drawer
serving no purpose.
Her music is stolen.

-

"I'm okay" is delusional.
Bad, worse and worst are the only
three states left to oscillate
in between.

-

You
can escape
this house,
this city,
this state,
this country.

But you will never be able to escape your conscience.

-

You are just done,
really truly done,
literally all tired of
screaming, crying, running and explaining
that you helplessly push the broken sleep button which seldomly works;
wishing if only that button was for permanent!
You would have gladly pressed it once and for all.

-

कहते हैं ख़ुशियाँ बाँटने से बढ़ती हैं
तो फिर मेरी ख़ुशियाँ ख़त्म क्यों हो गईं?

बाँटा तो हमने "अपनों" से ही था जो कहते तो थे कि मेरे अपने ही हैं
पर आज कहीं दूर दूर तक नहीं।

-

"You are a teeny tiny,
yes a very minute star
belonging to a
very huge galaxy.
Think big cause your pain is small.
Face it,
conquer it
and wear it
like an armour."

-

She can be strong like a mountain and she can be fragile like a butterfly.
She can become your indestructible shield in love or she can even besiege you like an undefeated warrior.
She can be the Queen or she can even settle as a commoner.
She can be graceful and she can be tough.
She can be petite and beautiful, she can be oversize and yet again beautiful.
She can wear shorts, bodycon, strapless or she can drape a saree, hijab, dupatta.
She can do anything but try to "satiate" your "patriarchy".
She can be anyone but your "possession" to fulfill your "sexist criteria".

-

The ropes tied around my tongue
cannot be seen, cannot be reached.
The regressive pull of the stabbed
memories cannot be staged, cannot be watched.
The unending feeling of choking inside
with a smile all over my face,
cannot be expressed, cannot be shown.
If I become inside-out,
the scars would seem countless,
decorated all beneath my skin
and deep in my flesh & bones,
some of which are
too fresh that the pain oozes out
like the blood from deep cut wounds.

"How wrecked are you", they ask?
If only my words could scream, it would.
If only my body could flame, it would.
If only my mind could stop and desolate, it would.

-

YourQuote,
The safe haven for writers.

-

Like a gardener,
he shoved down
the seeds of his lies
inside my throat;
the roots of which
reached the luxuriant
soil of my heart
spreading its poison
all over.

-