That which was unspoken has found its way to the universe,                              The wind carries the word, the broken trying to gather.                                          The waves wash the shore over and over again,                                                    If a moment there was, it was fleeting and now lost. 

As the nature dances in its might, the air whispers a tale.                                      The clouds that gather are fast flowing, The sunlight teases the land of the free, They are still close to my heart,                In wordlessness, I find the most beautiful thought. 

My reckless soul has found its way to the sea,                                                          Endless is what it seems, in its waters I still try to search for new territories.      I bundle hope, my eyes tirelessly navigate,                                                       I try to see reason where there is none.

Of those who never found their shore, Their poems still linger.                            In its soundlessness, my body shivers. Death is a friend who has his way with life,                                                                I will be eternal but the last words will never see light.  

The horizon offers me the infinite,          I dissolve slowly in its charm and give myself to what it seems to have become.                                                        I wake up to a dream,                                The words are finally here.                      No one to speak to, no one to hear.       

And still I go on walking,                          For I still don’t see an end.                        And I will keep on walking,                      For there is a lifetime still and million words to comprehend. 


The Embrace

Like the equanimity of heart on a cool breezy night,

Like the stillness of the water that mirrors life,

Like the weariness after a hard day labor,

Like the twee rythm that reminds of the days past,

Her souls stirs mine into an illusionary benign evening. 

Like the fragrance of the incense sticks that diffuse into the air,

Like the prayers that echo the wall of the temple halls,

Like the embrace of two souls deep in love,

Like the fading voice of a goodbye,

Her lips merge into mine. 

Like the hazy summer sun that blinds,

Like the muslin veil on her face invoking mystery,

Like the collyrium that blankets evil,

Like time that shutters our past in the dark,

She enshrouds my heart. 

And just like that, like nothing,

Into the void of my life,

Into nothingness,

Like something that had never happened and may never happen,

We fell in love. 

The Story and the Tune that wasn’t

The moonlit sky sang of a familiar tale,

In the void I left behind my paths,

It’s gone and there is solitude. 

There was no tone to that story, there never will be.

There she stood waiting for her moment, 

Her skin sparkled like the morning dews, 

Her eyes had the charm of the moon.

Beautiful she was and so was her soul,

There was no tone to this story, there will be no need anymore. 

Heartbeats and heavy breaths fill the vacuum,

We speak through eyes, 

And onto each other they entice the promise,

Without any words, they bind the impossible.

The story didn’t offer any end, the start was hard to find. 

The story was still without a tone, the attempts dissuaded by time. 

She didn’t had wings but I saw her fly, 

The clouds did trace her path but my heart refused to try, 

For long as it takes to forget, I have tried. 

For long enough I have now known-

Never forgotten are the things destined to die.

The story which never had a tone still has a part of my soul. 

The Tunes that make up your Song


A word. 

Each letter speaks.

An ode to mankind. 

It is why dreams exist.

The struggle for life is real. 

It makes the battle easier. 

We own our world. 

We are confident.

About us. 



It’s difficult. 

To keep waiting. 

The ability to stay. 

The fight is lost again,

Only to bring you back on.

It is not about time. 

Need to keep going. 

Dreams do change. 

Become real. 



To Rebel. 

An uncommon virtue. 

Stand against the world. 

Change doesn’t come so easily. 

Untreaded roads are difficult to walk. 

The world needs no story. 

You don’t need them. 

Nor their sympathy. 

Fly free. 


Story and its Time

It was then,

And now it is again. 

The world did know how to sway.

Time didn’t have time to tell its story,

Every time it told, it was lost. 

For time had no time to lose,

And to lose, was what it always wanted. 

The air didn’t lift the suspense,

The wind didn’t keep its promise.

And when they came rushing, it lifted

What the air didn’t spell, wind had to tell. 

Everything in its time get chance to come to fore,

No story is left untold, no heart left to crave for more. 

But when one decides to close themselves in the shackles of their feelings,

The world waits for the bubble to burst when patience reaches it’s glass ceiling.

Silhouette of our Reflections

We don’t know what  we ask of ourselves,

And everyday try to fake it,

The smile is a little frowned inside,

Our happiness doesn’t let it show, 

We have long learnt the way to hide,

For long we have known to be unknown.


What life didn’t ask of us sometimes,

Was to give away the chance of little joys,

And while we try to gather them,

They never stay in us,

Such ways of world, so insane, so wrong.


In our attempt to do away with it all,

We try to get the energies going,

People seldom say we are crazy, 

It’s harder for them to see what in our head is, is boring.

Our identities are so layered now, 

What’s within is hard to judge,

And though we try to find it in us,

We don’t think we stand the courage to find it once more.

Looking Back from Now

​My dreams used to awake in lands too far,
Where days were greener and a world too small. 
Where thoughts desired words and smiles  reflected happiness,
Where the songs of past got better with a coarse voice and the strength still didn’t fade. 

Then, when things didn’t seem that way any longer,
The deserted smile, the agony and the unknown to the inside either. 
Like ice cubes, life melts and slides,
In depths of it is merges,
Lost and oblivious to what it was,
A life to another ceases. 

The Conversation

​The conversation,
There are words and sentences,
Gaps and spaces,
You stop,
You hear them say,
You agree to disagree,
You disagree to agree. 

Sounds and laughter,
Out of words sometimes,
The unsaid and silences,
And again some words later,
Silencing the unsaid. 

The clock hands take a round,
Stars change position,
You stand,
They are where they stood. 
The syllables are still music,
You never thought,
But still things were said. 

In bits and pieces,
In memory it stays,
A night to remember,
A conversation,
The words and its ways. 

The Last Call

​Oh beloved, how shall I stay without you gaze,
Oh beloved, how I used to look upon you with all my grace. 
Oh beloved, have you gone clean of your ways,
Leaving behind the paths that brought us closer.

For sometime now, the fervor has bleakend,
I feel it inside, you don’t seem the same anymore. 
How your laughter broke our tiredness,
Oh beloved, you still smile but your eyes don’t. 

Time is a mischievous player,
It changes things we thought would never change,
Oh beloved, I still sit near your books,
Their pages have yellowed, their story didn’t.

Dying Soul & the Vacant Heart

​The love I had has been lost in me lately,
I don’t feel the breeze on my skin,
My eyes don’t sparkle at their smiles,
Nothing seems to have changed,
Still I feel something in me has died. 

I savage the little things left,
Basking in the afternoon winter sun,
Kissing my cup of coffee a hello,
Romancing with the idea of love,
Pretending to do it all and still be real. 

The murmurs scramble my ideas,
The more I listen, the more I fumble,
There is no vacancy in my heart,
But there is a longing that aches,
No scars, no marks, still a bit of me it takes. 

On dew laden grass my mornings awake,
Everything was a dream, but I never slept. 
The hours just passed by gazing stars,
They told their stories in a land too far.
No corners tossed, not sleep deprived,
The clock did change days, my hadn’t arrived. 

I still hope that I find that love,
What I haven’t found in this world so large,
I pity those people who think they got their share,
The miseries of the ignorant don’t seem to fade. 

Till the time I can’t be selflessly selfish again,
Till the time I can’t let go of my ego,
Till the time I can see the world burn and still hope for warmth,
How can love be a possible good start?

The souls dread the great romantic fallacy,
In falling in love with the idea of love,
For it was never meant to be so desirable. 
It is thorny and stings your heart,
The pain they say is sweet,
What I know for sure is that words need not be always too sour.