"Why didn't his guise speak directly to my conscience instead of seeking the intercession of his well behaved delusion?"

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"Like the unforgotten religious, political and social justice activists of the golden yesterday, I'd rather be martyred as a conqueror of the truth than live the rest of my life crowned with the laurel of lie for avarice, envy or cowardice."

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his broken love
without mend.

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his name in my bosom
until the birth of a new day
to ache in love again.

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"Are you ready to narrate a Tale of June's Monsoon?"

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Didn't he tell you that his
love was merely
an invitation to treat?

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"Alone, the Indian boy waited patiently in every heartbeat of my midnight insomnia."

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"When did you realise that you were in love with the Indian boy?"

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