Shretika Gupta







I bloom like an ugly flower and you are blind. We paddle across through the darkness. 

They saw us when they were born and named us stars and space.

Stars and space

24 DEC 2017 AT 12:05

She was married to dark shadows though allured by the envious eyes of mystical refections.

Light owns her. Love and envy.

24 DEC 2017 AT 1:33

Unrequited love quite taste like those slender neem leaves growing in the backyard. Have you ever tasted them? 

They are quite bitter,  intolerable sometimes, yet good for health. 

Unrequited love.

22 DEC 2017 AT 10:30

While each one of us were relishing the last few bites of gajar ka halwa, mom kept sweating in the kitchen cooking food for lunch. She took a glimpse of the empty bowl that dad had just left in the sink to wash and wished secretly, if only someone knew she also wanted to taste it before it got finished, but yet kept silent.  

When each one of us got busy watching tv, she walked out of the kitchen to dining and smiled. She looked at her plate and realised that dad had made sure that she has few spoonfuls of her favorite dish tonight, before everyone finished it. 

She cried and smiled. 

Ps: Little gestures of love.

Ps: Little gestures of love.

16 DEC 2017 AT 19:01

when dreams harbour in the shores of nightmares, I wake up to the lingering taste of bitter and sweet on my tongue.

Waking up to nightmares.

29 NOV 2017 AT 7:26

Noise once said

 "Maybe I was just meant to be quiet".


12 NOV 2017 AT 21:24

Morning thoughts: 

Sometimes things seem to fall in place, sometimes fall out of place! 
PLACE in itself is highly subjective, a matter of perspective. 

Maybe we just don't really know, if it's in place or out of place. 

It's good to let things drift beyond one's control and not ponder about them obsessively.

I don't usually talk about the little random thoughts that drift by, but they become my daily modes of conservation with my own self! So as and when you feel hashtag #morningthoughts and let me know what keeps you up for the day! Ps: it doesn't really have to be morning. 😋

6 NOV 2017 AT 9:02

Blades, we cut open each other little by little, staring at the view, patching those holes within, scavenging through memories. 

We slept on our deathbeds wrapped within the arms of Ambiguity.

Ambiguity of our being.

Ambiguity. You and me.

27 OCT 2017 AT 22:10

Silent storm, 

When I look up, I wonder what would make them see the sea, while they keep their heads up thinking it's a black blanket?

Blanket or sea?

4 OCT 2017 AT 16:33

Looks lovely even when it's  broken, all alone.

Broken glass or you.


3 OCT 2017 AT 20:54