Seaside.

Not many months ago, I was sitting at the seaside watching the sunset. It was one of those marmalade skies, a humid weather that’d go perfectly with a country song. The winds were blowing my hair, swiftly caressing my face pleading me to shift to a new perspective. At 5 p.m. that Friday, I was … More Seaside.

Dystopia 1

It’s a fresh monsoon morning. The only sound outside is the rustling of leaves in the heavy wind. Things have really improved for the society. It’s particularly perfect for the girls’ mind. After all, the government had finally given a thought to their safety. A few months ago, the world was in shambles. Eve-teasing was … More Dystopia 1

What If…

It is only in the moments when you are alone – for quite a while – that you submit to looking at and through yourself. We escape the activity of delving deep into knowing ourselves by keeping busy, one distraction to another. We do it because it works so well. But it troubles us. We … More What If…

Weekends.

I like my weekends unplanned. I’m currently trying to handle a dozen things in my life which require constant time and effort. Sometimes my role in certain situations has gotten me to sacrifice my lunch, sleep and even sanity. In the past one year, I’ve been (surprisingly) socializing to an extent that the act of … More Weekends.

Fake Readers.

A few months ago, I dreamt of waking up to Instagram notifications that screamed all my favorite authors are now following me. For any young reader, this is the absolute dream.

Dear Mom

Last night I was out partying till late You know my mom doesnt like it She hardly grants me the permission Says she trusts me but not the world… So i tell her i’m not in school anymore ma

Itch And Ire.

Over time, when bitten enough, The body can build up tolerance To mosquito bites So that they no longer itch. Then— though you might be Bitten a hundred times On each hand And again— on each leg You are not bothered.

Backwards.

There’s a part of me tracing back memories, I feel this heaviness in my chest; the weight of your words on a frail, little heart. I love you backwards, From the last day to the first. This way I know your favourite song before I know your name. Loving you backwards comes easy.