The Last Time

When I hugged you last time, Did you know that it would be The Last Time. When I kissed you last time, Did you surreptitiously wish it were The Last Time. When I tasted that honeyed skin of yours, When I feasted upon that wondrous mind of yours, I buried myself in the sins of…

Scars

The places where your skin had caressed mine, Had left indelible prints and inimitable fragrances. I peel those skins off my flesh today, In a vainglorious bid to forget. I hope that the new skin growing soon, Would hide the secrets of the old scars. This skin, however, Smells of putrid flesh, festering over wounds…

Elusive Illusion

What is poetry, she asks, Distilled misery, I tell her. Or refined joy, quips she. Sorrow hollows the soul, said Gibran, so its chalice can hold joy. Poetry, I said, is shards of my soul, being carved out, a syllable at a time. Her warm embrace dissolves the rest of the words in my palate….

Little piece of Cancer

In the fields of the mind, the parasite planted itself, Courtesy a trivial gesture or a passing joke. It grows, Surreptitious, Seductive, Serendipitous.   Alien, yet amicable, Invasive, yet comforting, Exotic, yet crude, Apathetic, yet sensual, Shrouded in mystery, drowned in indifference.   You see it prosper, Taking the shape of the void within, Water…

Time travel

I have always considered time travel as a tactic to escape from the drudgery of existence. The first thought that comes to mind when one hears of time travel is that of transporting yourself to a time in the distant past or the obscure future. Here, time stands still, set in stone, and the object,…

The Session with AB

‘I can see it in your eyes..’, he began. I was being my usual jovial self, but he saw right through me. I was not paying attention to what he was doing. I was busy blabbering about my job and the travelling I am doing as a part of it, the colleagues who are amazing…

The Slow Death

I hold it within my fingers like a vestigial appendage, deftly, with the skill of a veteran. A click, a spark and the flame dances seductively, kisses its tip and sets it on fire. It glows and burns, deliberately, consciously. The ash, as grey as my conscience, The smoke as white as the lies. I…

The Pit

It is one of those days, Yet again, Where you wake up And it’s still dark. Your open eyes, see no light, Helpless, you grope in the dark. Your eyes get used to the black, And you start to notice, That you know this place. It’s one of those days, again. This pit of oblivion,…

Darkness

Street lights breathed to life, The stars paled in comparison. A million times brighter they are, yet, snuffed out to our imagination by our meagre inventions. What does that tell you about the stars? that even the most feeble one of them needs darkness to shine through. When even the brightest of the stars are…