chota

when i am drunk, she drives
what i demand, she supplies

At times
we secretly cry listening to the same song
and still pretend to not get along

i choke, when she smokes
she pays, when i am broke

Sometimes
we take each other's arse
and then casually mention that, " this too shall pass"

when i abuse, she ignores
what i ignore, she adores

There are days
when we talk only with our middle fingers
And act like we'd act with total strangers.

i pick what she drops
she runs while I hop.

Often
we become each other's blessing in disguise
she is a spoonful of truth in my bowl full of lies.

when she asks, i oblige
while i die, she survives

hatred.

I hate seeing friends in strangers
and strangers in friends

I hate glitz n glitter
and people who litter

I hate red riding hood for being so red
and signs like 'this bears no resemblance to person living or dead'

I hate my sister in pain
and hate her even more when she acts like a saint

I hate the absence of trees and the presence of malls,
unwanted marketing callers and their unwanted calls

I hate eve teasing bastards and male chauvinist pigs
and sick fucking assholes who can't control their dicks

I hate people who preach and people who ditch
and all my near and dear ones who think i am a bitch

I hate the fact that i am supposed to be married
i hate my future husband and the ugly kids who are yet to be carried!

I hate this entire week and the week that ended day before yesterday.
I hate the fact that a week after this week i will love everything I hate today.

Lost and found

Sometimes a loss can cause you a lot of damage! Especially when what you have lost is nothing less than your own self.

And then the journey begins to find the lost you!

You leave on a mission to find your lost smile along with your missing heart and the ever silent mind. The search begins in the nearest bar; in different shades and shapes of potent liquid; in familiar strangers and unfamiliar territories; in the roads so often traveled but so less recognized; in the 7th week of solitude; in unfair relationships; in recurring memories and resurging past.

You yearn for the eyes that saw your dreams, the voice that told your story and the hands that shaped your present. You cry for your lost innocence, your misplaced soul and omitted conscience and suffer the loss of a lost you.

You travel far and wide to reduce the distance between you and your real self and finally come back home defeated.

And then one fine day, when you have accepted the absence and rebuild a new you, you discover that in that new you- you have found the lost smile, the missing heart, the silent mind again and that too- in your own house, in your own room, on your own side of the bed!

Tell Mom that you are finally home!

Can you?

Can you censor my dreams, punctuate my thoughts, edit my fears, organize my randomness?

shine!

It takes a whole lot of moons and a whole lot of suns to shine like a star.

today

today i want to be

a period stain
a clogged drain
indian monsoon with no rain

a plain jane
a deserted lane
an open wound with no pain


a broken chain
a passenger train
a cheap holiday bargain!

blind love

I saw love in those eyes and followed them blindly. Now I am desperately seeking an eye surgeon to cure my heart.