A Figment Of Ur Imagination

As AbOvE,sO bElOw…As WiThIn,So WiThOuT…

Knock

I don’t think we ever shut

ourselves from the world 

completely. 

We leave the doors of our heart unlatched, 

hoping that the perfect 

stranger would knock on it and 

say, 

You feel like home.

-I’ll be waiting. 

|yes, wishful thinking would be the death of me.|

Naked.

Come to me naked

or don’t come to me at all. 

Leave your misery on 

for me to take care of. 

Drop the masks

of bravery and apathy 

you cover your skin with, 

outside my door. 

Come with three glasses

for you and I, 

and we will drink the odds together. 

Come to me naked 

or don’t come at all. 

How (not) To Fall In Love

Step into love the same way you would 

start exploring the sea, walk into it

with bashful toes, the salt and the sand 

will wash away the inhibitions that

line your soul;

keep walking till the salty air loses contact

with your body and the warm waves

crash against your beauty and your flaws;

when you first feel the water touch your chin,

dont run away from it, walk, slowly,

this is how the tides will build up on you,

and remember, you might have to crawl across 

that seabed or walk

tiptoed on it or even fly above 

it’s waters once in a while,

but promise me, you won’t ever

fall headfirst into it. 

“What do you want?”

“The kind of acrobatic infatuation that triggers the pieces of your broken heart to plunge into an atrocious war, colouring your soul with the sweet ruckus brawl called love. “

Stay

He would tell me sometimes 

but often-

how he wanted me 

to fall into 

the empty 

crevice

of his eternal love-

I would laugh 

then

and tell him how 

we were not 

meant to be. 

when i fell

and i did-

the sun shone

but beneath the rain 

and colors that danced,

the sky embraced – 

love had won 

as it seemed 

but how could it, 

having not 

had the storm to brace? 

and when it came, 

and it did, 

he told me then-

how he wanted me 

to fall again 

not inside the crevice

now seemingly full-

but out of the heart 

that I had grown

 to call my own. 

and when i turn

without a goodbye of sorts, 

his voice 

I hear

now only a whisper – ‘is there anything 

that i may?’  and i 

can only say- ‘find me a love 

that would stay’. 

2a.m. Conversations 

​I wish all the conversations were like the ones we have at 2a.m.,

when the world is quiet 

and our heartbeats loud.

I wish all the words we shared were as

honest and raw

as the ones that escape 

from our lips

during one night’s end

And one morning’s beginning.

Because it’s 2am

when our humanity 

tends to let its guard down,

And show through. 

It’s 2am when 

we let all of ourselves

be seen completely: Ugly and unafraid.

Beautiful and ready,

for love.

But mostly I just wish 

I had another 2am

To spend with you.

|of longing.|

Storm

Do not settle for the waves, 

my love.

He will come rolling 

like a storm 

and sweep you away. 

|either it’s fierce or it’s a facade.|

And We Walked. 

The sun set, turning the orangish sky into lilac and deeper shades of blue eventually turning to black. Clouds breaking into fragments like little pieces of cotton, dispersing into the vast. The sand felt cold. So did the waves that came crashing to our feet,  embracing them and then retreating back like a lover,  who gives us the best kiss of our life and suddenly fades away, leaving behind the imprints of their lips. 

Tell me about your art.  He turned towards me as I kept looking into the ocean. 

I could feel his gaze on me.  His eyes,  you can’t lie to them. Never. They hold your gaze and you can see galaxies colliding into them. 

I write.  I said,  after a pause.  

About? He questioned, again. 

I write about humans and animals. And gods and monsters. About the men who fuck multiple women and the ones who spend their entire life loving one woman. About the women who get raped and then kill themselves. About the ones who get raped  and then kill the rapist. About the childer who lost their innocence in the smoke they puffed out. About the children who had no choice  but to work. 

I write about all of them. 

I write about anxiety, lust, craving, pain, excitement, happiness, distance, love, anger, depression. 

I write about culture, religion, belief, opinions, superstitions, perspectives. 

I write about this world. 

This is my art. And I love it. 

I took a deep breath after the monologue. He kept looking at me.  Straight into my eyes. And then looked away. 

Write about me. He said. 

Can galaxies be confined to words? I asked. 

You can do it. I know. he answered. 

Meet me more often then. I want to know you. I said, meaning every word of it. 

The dusk had fallen by now. It was getting cold. There were no clouds. It was a starless night. 

Hold my hand, lets walk. He stood and held out his hand. 

Where are we going? I asked, holding his hand. 

Where ever the street lights take us, I thought you wanted to know me better.  he replied. And we walked. 
|yes I am capable of writing utter nonsense too|

Starry nights

Let’s climb to the roof, just us, bring blankets and we’ll lie down together and look up at the stars and whisper and laugh and forget about tomorrow for a while. 

Let’s talk about the little things. Like you can’t go on the roadtrip without mint in your mouth because you’ll get motion sickness. Or that at times you sleep with the  lights on.  Take me to the places you escape to when life s a bit overwhelming. To your sunsets. To your dreams. To your nightmares. 

|sundays are for cheesy things|

She loved humans, 

just the way she loved her hair and her mind:

undone. 


|12am thoughts|