A friend once said,

A friend once said :

“Writing is torture,when you ‘re doing it

And it’s torture when you don’t

When you can’t.”

Or at least, something like that.

It’s like staying quiet

When you need to scream.

It’s the way you ramble

When you’re stressed  out.

Torture, when you’re out of words

And torture when you’re exposed.


Dear P, I miss you!

I miss the way

You make me feel

The wonders you do

For my soul, to heal

I miss the way

You come out of the blue

Whenever I need you

The way, you hide out

Then let me find you

Then tell me: let it all out!

I miss how you enslave

Me and obey.

Tell me to be brave

And just lay.

I miss how you show me the way

How I lose you, seek you then stray


I miss how you lead me,

Take my hand and follow me.

I miss the way, I hold you

And you tremble

As I pour my heart out

Thanks to you,

They know what I think about

What might be true,

Or complete fiction.

You impose no restriction

For that I’m glad I have you

And I miss you

Dear pen, God bless you!

And dear muse,

I blame you, and I accuse!

Mediocrity, the worst form of existence!

The worst form of existence

Now I know,

Is Mediocrity

The mere survival,

Where I’d never know

Neither The tragedy

Of losing

Nor  the fantasy

Of winning.

But I would rather die

Than  believe

That greatness

I will never achieve

where my passion does  lie.

The thought is haunting me.

And to its power

My resistance is failing me,

Mediocrity is the worst form of existence.

That I know!

To be exposed,

Maybe he knew more than he should have

Maybe I exposed my naked self and I shouldn’t have

Maybe he knows my weaknesses and the flaws I have

Maybe I said too much and revealed a lot

Of my dreams, hopes and Fears

Maybe he wiped too many of my tears

Now, I know I should have not

I shouldn’t have allowed him

Because I’m clueless about what he would do

what he does and what he says

Now that we’re not together

Now that he’s gone

Now that we’re less than nothing,

I can’t help but wonder

Maybe he knew more than he should have

And I had no Idea about who he really was.

He couldn’t possibly have hurt me more,

than knowing everything I was.

Ruin your life!

Ruin your life

By laughing,

By doing what your heart wishes.

Ruin your life

By smiling,

By venturing and kisses.

Ruin your life,

By looking ahead

And going forward.

Ruin your life

By the love you give,

And the hope you spread.

Ruin your life

By the dreams you live,

And the dreams you chase,

And the goals you once had,

And set

Just in case,

You wanted to ruin your life.

Forget me not!

Mistakes, we’ve made

Innocence, we’ve claimed

Our story, like ashes

We’ve burnt

And yet

Regretful, you weren’t.

Just give me a reason

For this hurt

And this treason

For this unbearable,

Oh! Terrible


Remember? Remember

When we kissed in December?

Forget me not

When the weather gets hot!

Indeed, we fought

But still

Forget me not!


Dear H,

Oh! crazy, naughty you,

What did I ever do

To deserve all the trouble

You make me go through

Every day

From the morning till

The afternoon?

All pretty, docile and sage

When at home I stay.

All messy, sloppy and carless

When all I want

Is for you to slay.

Fine! dear Hair,

You have it your way!

Dear B,

I don’t know who’s tiring who

Is it me or is it

The one that’s getting me through

Today and every day.

The one that makes me think

and the one that leads the way

in the road to madness

and occasional sanity

from a whole lot of ambiguousness

to perfect clarity.

The one that’s telling me

What to do, constantly,

And what to say,

Continuously and every day.

The one that defines me,

my humanity?

Is it my feared oppressor?

Is it my salvation, my liberator?

Either way,

I’m burnt, sleepless and tired.

And the answer is required

To my first inquiry,

Is it me or is it my brain?

To think infinitely,

Of everything and anything,

Is that what I’ll forever do?

Because I only think, I don’t do.

Of that I’m tired, aren’t you

dear brain?