Hold the hand of the stranger

You wake up and find yourself under scorching sun in the middle of a desert with sands of all shades of brown. You ask yourself, what are you doing in a desert when all your life is spent in waters floating, diving, swimming, with rocks holding you when you wanted to rest and waves pushing you when you wanted to move. “How did I end up here?”, you ask yourself and the last memory that you hold is of a stranger stretching hand towards you, promising a new life, different from the one you have lived and known. You bend forward and hold his hand.
You hold his hand and set on a journey that you never even knew exists leaving your rocks and waves behind. Leaving your water behind which was giving you life, which was your life.
While hitchhiking with the stranger you hop from vehicle of excitement to vehicle of uncertainty and then to cart of adventure to lorry of fear all along holding on to the stranger’s hand tightly.
You slide through vast spread roads of anxiety, bumpy tracks of euphoria and take shelter in huts of hopelessness that the day will never show up and wake up to dawn of new dreams and possibilities.
Throughout the journey you keep going through these minor changes in your being, your body, your soul. You witness scratches of timelessness peeling off your skin, you see your fins gradually turning into limbs and your scales into pores letting all the vapours of your past evaporate. You see your eyes that never saw sun before adjusting to piercing sunrays. But you don’t question these changes because you are too busy listening to stories from stranger of an unseen, unknown world.
The only question that you ask is that why noone ever told you these stories before. Why everyone you have known always talked about fishermen, tides, pearls, seashells, shores and moon and not about rains, windy meadows, starry skies, nests on trees, sand dunes, roads melting into the setting sun and hands that can touch it all.
All of a sudden you want to run away, freeing yourself from the tight grip of the stranger but the thought of “where to go” is holding you back.
You have left the only place you have known behind and now you are not physically acceptable back in waters because you have changed. So going back would mean death. And what lays ahead is an unknown world whose rules and ways are alien to you. Even though you have been evolving since the minute you stepped out of waters but still you are unaware of the change you are undergoing as yet.
Since death is a hard choice to make so you decide to keep moving forward. You keep walking, running, falling, flying, resting, as per need of the hour and place holding hands with the stranger.
Until today. When you find yourself lying under this ever expanding sky, showering you with piercing sunrays.
Until today. When you realise that you are back. Back to from where you started. You are back to the sea but only this time the tiny drops of water are replaced with tiny grains of sand. You realise you covered all this distance from one sea to another. And for the first time you see all the changes you have undergone in order to survive in this new sea.
And the stranger, the stranger is none other than your own soul. Soul, that remains, has remained and will always remain alive and free and your body is the vessel of your soul that will always be taking different shapes in accordance with needs of your soul.
Until today when you discovered that once your body starts obeying your soul, it sustains and lives through all changes. It grows wings, it grows fins, it grows limbs as the soul commands.
Keep holding the hand of the stranger tightly.



IMG_20190613_010025_529I forgot to shut the door. I left it ajar and realized it quite late when navy blue sky had already spread its cold, misty wings all over the place. I looked up but found no ceiling, all I could see was half eaten, bright moon with scars telling about all it had to go through to get to me. But it was still smiling. I couldn’t comprehend was this smile there to cheer me up or was it drawn upon seeing me.
Amidst the confusion these eyes grabbed my attention, these eyes trying to steal a glimpse of me while trying their best to stay concealed. From the fading beige colour I could tell, I could tell that these were the eyes of all the daydreams I once dared see. They had now come to check on me, to see if I was still holding them close to my chest, under my now cold and thick grown skin. They have come in hope of days when I’ll be wearing them on my skin like shining stars telling tales of my stubbornness.
I smiled. I smiled at those eyes and they got the signal. They got that it’s not the right time. Their gait was not the same when I stared at them from behind. It took them a while to take that turn around the corner they are always reluctant to go. I was expecting or rather hoping that they might turn around. Turn around so that this time it might be my turn to steal a glimpse of that dimming light in those mystic eyes but they didn’t. Perhaps they had finally understood the drill, that how they are supposed to leave quietly like they never existed.
I wasn’t completely done yet biding them one of last goodbyes when moonlit green held my cheek and turned my face to the dimension I have mastered avoiding. Yes, my fondest memories from the place I refuse to leave no matter how hard you try. Yes, past. Yes, like every time I tried not to turn my face toward this moonlit green but you should have seen for yourself how strong its grip was this time. I had to. I had to turn my face toward it to free myself from one of many aches that I’ve long been refusing to take. Shouldn’t they be leaving you the instant you refuse to take them? Shouldn’t it be working like that?
Sorry I got distracted but the moonlit green of my favourite memories is still waiting for me and this time with this frozen gaze. I guess it’s about time I pay them a visit. I should reassure them that they are very much alive in my heartbeats. I smile. I smile at them but they are extending their arm towards me. They tell me they want to take me along for a day or two or perhaps a fortnight or as my heart says it overheard them conspiring that it might take forever this time.

Fairy Lights

Sitting silently
Next to yellow lights
With this dim hope
That they might warm me up a little
Sun awaits for me outside
Shining bright
With beams carrying promises
Of never ending warmth
Unless I shut them out
Through blinds of fears and nightmares
That I very seldom roll up
And whenever I do
I make sure it’s a rainy day
Bringing them grey clouds along
Hiding the sun behind them
Their stillness adding to the cold
Beneath this ripped ribcage of mine
And their darkness adding to the brittleness of my bones
For how I feel at home
With these shady, gloomy clouds
Resting on my doorstep
Ensuring me that at least
They are going to last
And because
They are always adding to the cold
And not taking my warmth awayimg_20190118_230428_138


img_20190112_105100_878I want to talk
But with no words involved
I want to talk like I talked with you
Looking in the air
Towards the sun
Sometimes holding hands
Sometimes standing on different edges of road
I want to talk
Gazing at stars
Walking those paths
Holding breath
Strolling under trees
Holding on to autumn light for us
All I want is
To talk
With my feet not touching the ground
With my eyes following the wandering clouds
With your smile
Warming my heart
With your eyes
Being the coziest home I ever resided in
I want to talk
With you by my side
Holding the whole universe
In one piece
With your arms
Shielding my existence
I want to talk
With you
The talk
That will last
Longer than moments we counted as eternity
Longer than this night that just refuses to pass


As desperate as it may sound

You always want someone to be found

Who accepts you and all your disfigured forms

Negating all worthless ugly norms

Instead of singing you love songs

Sets you free in the sky where you belong

Who sees things you have never shown

Spoons your aching heart outside of comfort zone

Who knows nothing about happy endings

And leaves your soul shattered in a million pieces

Then comes a time when those lifeless slices

Reside in a million little paradises

Where moon will smile at them in vain

And they won’t be asking for a little less pain

Story Book

Buying a house near a bus stop 
Sitting there for hours
Every day
Observing people
Knitting stories
A story book 
That would be written
Every day
With a new story
With new characters
New colours
All you would do
Would be sitting in a corner
Where there won’t be any repetition
Of faces
Except for the one
Sitting next to you
Sole constant
Of your picture
I want to live that life
For a while


I have forgotten

What I learned

I’m not

What I used to be

Among chaos and paradox

Don’t ever take away

My happy moments


I marked red

Don’t make me tear off

My favorite pages

Don’t make the sight of stars

Painful for me

Don’t leave me alone

With the misery of the moon
Never sneak away

My fantasies

That make me want to live

That make me want to dream

Don’t take it all away

For I live for this stuff

I have convinced myself

That it’s going to stay

That it’s all mine

Not even the death

Can steal it away

I’ve given it all

In your hands

For , you are my safest place

To put in all my faith

Never let my heart wilt

Never let this light go dim

Don’t take it all away

Don’t take any of it away


I’m making an effort

To explode through my words

To put life into my words

Because my words are the only place

Where my heart finds solace

Where my mind comes to a halt

Where I’ve hidden you

From possibilities of you

Running away

From what we could be

Running away

From what I designed us to be

It’s just my words that keep dead meat alive

It’s in my words that I feel a life


They don’t let me sleep

They keep me awake

Same old words

Jumbling up in my mind

Visions from past and future

With repetitive rhythm

Residing in shadows around me

Falling upon me

Dancing around me

I pass them on to you

I pass it all to you


We all have our sets of strength

What’s mine?

Looking in the mirror

Looking straight in the eyes

Of all those




And moments

That couldn’t make it to my pages

All the screams

That couldn’t

Reach the world

All the deaths

That weren’t mourned

All “can’t waits” and “what ifs”

All roller coaster rides of

False hopes

And broken dreams

That can never be mended


That can never be healed


That will never stop flowing


That will never be heard