Far from the sabji bazaar,
the echo of my own mind grew —
louder,
yet clearer,
like a conch from the cremation ground.

-

When perfection gets boring…
My boredom finds perfection.

-

Grateful not just for a mind shaped mindfully,
but also for the heart shaped just as heartfully.

-

Some days,
a single glare, a sigh too deep—
an ungrateful child.
I take none of it personally. But still,
I wonder… why did I sign up for this?

Then,
a spark in a curious eye,
a quiet “thank you,”
a simple “good morning”—
moments like these whisper:
This is why.

Teaching is never a straight path.
But always,
when the student is ready,
the teacher appears.
And often,
the teacher is learning, too.

-

Some nights never seem to end…
Some nights, you never want to end.
Some nights, you just want to pretend—
And some, you hope will never end.
Some nights, you don’t comprehend,
Yet still, you hope they never end.

Some nights begin to blend,
And in action, I wish they’d end.
Some nights, to my thoughts I tend—
To a place that knows no end.

Some nights, eyes close before ten…
Some stay open till the very end.
Some nights I whisper a kiss & send—
Some nights, I don’t, as I lie by your end.

One of the nights for sure will bring the inevitable end,
I am not eager, but I’ll be prepared for that end,
I didn’t wait for you, but I’m getting ready for you, my friend…

-

Here go my words—revisited & revised,
Once dipped in gold, now crystallised.
They flew on wings expecting grace,
Now grounded, like you—just taking up space.

The ball still bounces. The wind still plays.
But I no longer write to praise.
You were a spark I mistook for a flame,
Turns out just like others, you’re just—exactly the same.

Same lines, same games, same tragic thrill,
Dressed up in wit, but empty still.
I thought you were rare, something sublime—
But even illusions lose shine with time.

I used to pause before I’d hit send,
Now I wish I could tell the past me—“Let’s amend.”
The texts I wrote? Genuine maybe, maybe not.
Now I laugh—no weed needed to see how I got caught.

You had my respect, I’ll admit that part,
But now? You’re ordinary, eh not any work of art.
Admiration? Gone. That pedestal is down—
You ain’t special. Just return my crown!

Who am I? Still the thinker, still the poet.
Just wiser now—with better taste in you know…you know it!

You was my muse, all you loved to do was confuse,
Was I sipping lukewarm tea? Something was off with my fuse.
I’m Nobody, but fluent, connoisseur- not only of sarcasm…
With my words—pardon me, but I can give anyone orgasm!

-

Oh moon! Here you are again,
Shy like a customer asking for bargain…
Clouds try to cover you—
Stars try to outshine you—
But no matter how hard they try,
The destination of yours, wid me lie…
U come & go like d summer’s rain:
Leading my heart towards bitter, yet sweet pain…

-

Hey Rain…

Yes — you careless, infinite drops of Rain!
You raineth all over, making me realize
What “blessing in disguise” truly is.
You pitter-patter on,
Ignorantly confusing me —
Is it an angry slap,
Or a loving kiss?

First, you make me loathe thee to the core…
And then, you make me crave thee even more.

-

Not sweet, not bitter…
Just passing through some lives unnoticed
and haunting others forever…

-

Time to spread my wings,
Because it’s spring—my spirit sings.
Sinking it all in,
Shedding my skin—
Like a snake after long winter,
Summer’s heat gone, just a whisper.

New lives will bloom,
Like the lush green chives next to my room.
The rain, as usual, brings old memories,
While the sun paints a rainbow to enter all my galleries.

-