Preachings running out!

Preach preach preach!
from filled pockets
and empty brains.
With unscathed heart
and untethered emotions.
Sided by parallel friends,
attentive as bread crumbs
asking to ‘just move on’.

With double skin,
houses on higher ground
preaching ‘not to drown’.

With dried pillows and
shadows never patrolling at 3am
urging ‘not to grate brains and sleep’.

If they knew Hurt
the way a burning paper
recedes in front of a matchstick.
If they knew Wound
as an unasked excavation of land
with mostly dirt and barely a treasure
If they knew Heartache
they’d would know
why some turn into wolves,
finding comfort in being
dangerous and to howl all alone;
all ’cause of the lack of help
and not to bite back the world.


A story worth 2 Euros

It had to be one of those days when everything sucked, she growled. But then a day like this never stops on tomorrow. It keeps appearing, she continued. The rain had been falling hard on the ground. The wind made it equally impossible for the umbrella to behave. Like Sophie’s choice she had to choose if she saves herself from the wicked downpour or her umbrella from a cut-through storm. She chose the latter, snapped it shut and ran to find shelter under extended roof of a shop.

Muttering under her breath she felt a pair of eyes on her. She avoided looking. It was close to midnight, and she just wanted to get home after a lousy day. She didn’t need any more trouble.
But certainly heard a faint ‘Hi’ and continued ignoring it. She felt someone coming closer. In turn, gripped her umbrella tight– ready to smack it over, just in case.

“Hi Eli”, this time a bit louder, not buried under the hammering of large raindrops.

“It’s you! Yes!!”, cried the voice in excitement. She turned around carrying a tired look but suddenly found herself woken up.

With her brows still raised, Hi, she returned. “I never expected I’d see you again.” Words were inexplicably out before she knew it.
“umm, what…? How are you doing, Samuel?”, stressing on his name.

“Okay! I guess. Nothing much to complaint.” still trying to subdue his excitement.

“Good!… It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, 23 years.”

“23? Wow! Never counted”

“I did!”, said he with a sheepish smile. “Have you been alright? All these years?”

“Yes! Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You appear tensed.”

“Jeez! It’s just the rain. You know how much I hate it.” Eli takes a deep breath calming her racing heart.

“Yes yes, I remember. But that never stopped you from going out even at the odd hours” he chuckled.

“Haha! I was young. Nothing bothered me then. And I was so hell-bent on having all sorts of odd experiences.”

“Well, I said it then and will say it again – That’s how life must be lived.”

“I am not so sure about that now.” She looked exhausted.
He noticed she was heavily drenched in a simple t-shirt, not enough to keep the cold out.

“Let me give you this!” He started taking off his jacket.

“Please don’t! I don’t need it” She insisted.

“You are shivering! I have a warm sweater beneath. Don’t worry!”

“Sam!” He noticed she didn’t use his full name this time. The way she used to. But he continued looking at her sweet, convoluted face.

“If you are thinking we are going to meet again in pretense of returning your jacket, I will not advise it. Things have changed. I have changed. I have a family. We aren’t some high-school sweethearts anymore” She appeared troubled facing these facts.

“I would never…. You know I would never cross any boundary to hurt you. I sincerely wanted to give you the jacket and trust me, you can keep it” She knew he was genuine. He always had been. Even with the onset of a wrinkle on the corner of his eyes, those gave off the same light. She could read perfectly. For a minute, she thought to herself. Did we rush in ending us? Our life would have been different. So different. But she brushed off the thought and continued listening.

“I understand you have a family, a responsibility. I will never come in between something you worked so hard to build.” There he was. I didn’t share a single word of my life and he understood, she thought. His eyes carried appreciation and respect for her. Like love fermented into something higher in all these years.

While he was about to take off his jacket he stopped in the middle, “Wait! Ummm… one sec”
He turned to the other side. His back facing her. She could not see what he was doing.

‘Maybe I spoke too soon. What if someone special gifted him the jacket? Don’t know what kind of odd toad he turned out to be in these years’, her brain assessing way more than needed.

“Here you go!” He handed it to her with the sweetest smile she needed so badly. She was reluctant to take it but eventually did.
It was drizzling by now and she had this sudden urge to move away from him. She messily put on the jacket, “It was nice seeing you, Sam. Hope you stay well!”
She stormed off before hearing you too!

Why am I running away like a thief, muttering to herself. After a few blocks there was a convenience store at the gas station.
“I need a candy. I am all out of energy.” She went inside and suddenly realized she forgot to carry her purse. She left home hastily in the evening to meet a colleague who just got fired. Work life was screwed these days. She could be the next target but didn’t want to lose a good friend over the corporate circus. So, without a thought busted out of the home at once when her friend called.

She was dejected, so rundown over a small candy she couldn’t have. Her family had been falling apart. Work had been more stressful than ever. She wouldn’t be able to see her friend/work-wife either now and even a smallest sweet was out of the window. Life sucks!

She shrugged in anger, formed small fists of her hands and hid it in the pocket of her jacket. She touched something metal. It was a 2 euro coin. Shockingly, she travelled straight down the memory lane. Two decades back.

How she loved going out before. At any time of the day or night. Long walks with friends or acquaintances or university people she had just met. Too much engrossed in talks to remember carrying a wallet. She was so different than now. But Samuel remained the same. He knew Eli always had a sweet-tooth and, every now and then craved her gummy bears. And he always made sure to put some lose change in all her as well as his jacket’s pocket.

She stared down hard at the 2 euro coin in her palm struggling not to cry. She closed her fist and quietly, calmly walked back home.


People don’t love you the way you love them…

Each second marks
the number of times
you thought of them today.
Yet you are 86,400 times
and a lifetime away
to make them yours.

As fascinated it is to
look at the stars
It’s terrifying to know
those are mere a collection
of dust and gas from up close.
So, when you are near them
You know—they are nothing.

Even when you move a mountain
in front of their doorway
as they like hills,
They don’t step out in their balcony
to witness the efforts of your mutilated heart.

You bring a whole garden
and spring to them but
it’s not their time
nor any intention to bloom

They peel off their skin so often,
the skin you spent years to get under
that you become a stranger
standing under the same umbrella.

A person in your imagination
is so different than in real life
and is usually the ambassador
of delivering pain to you
while you manifested Earth’s flowers for them.

You are their dream catchers.
And for them you are an occasional décor.
And you wonder what did you do wrong?

It’s cause,
people don’t love you
the way you love them.


The women I loved!!

Mirrors, for me,
had been traveling interiors.

At 7, I look at it,
travel to lunch breaks
where my friends sit
and talk about the hot blood
and the devil’s agony in me.
I agree.
With a smile.

At 16, I look at it.
A confused face, big head
and forever rolling eyes.
Understand why they dislike me.
I travel to a still place.
I see ‘her’. Who is ‘her’?
Perhaps, someone is there with me.

At 35, I look at it.
No masks, she is touchable,
full of mercies.
Disappointments under the eyes
and within the lines of smile.
I look like my mother.
I love it.

At 80, I look at it
And I say,
I carry your tiredness, grandma;
who possessed a look of
‘Watch me while I burn you
inside out’ but fed
morsels of her heart to everyone.
It jolted me into an action and I wear grandma’s pendant.
My grandfather’s love in that pendant.
Only in the pendant.
I learn why she always wore it.

Mirrors with their dead humour strangely made my love grow stronger for the women I loved and for the woman I was failing to love through the reflection.


Would you bring me no flowers?

Would you bring me no flowers coz I like them more in gardens, pots, and much less in hands but be blushingly sensitive to not come empty handed? Would you compliment just enough for me to not get embarrassed but also feel noticed? Would you wear the prettiest smile so I know you had been exceptionally giggling on your way of coming over with a mere thought of seeing me? Would you forever be grateful to universe for me being a part of this world right when you are existing? Would you be understanding that I am not complicated or weird—I just crave attention in simplest ways possible?


Sometimes, I fear my fearlessness

Sometimes it’s too much to bear. This anxiety. What does it trying to tell me?? I pledged to myself that I won’t run away from my emotions but lately this promise had been really hard to keep.

And what happens when I face them— this weird sensation in my stomach, this uneasiness doesn’t tell me if something good is going to happen or bad?? I’m unsure. For me, it hadn’t been a red alert for only adversities but had encompassed its root for good things too that is bound to come my way— ruining it before it could start.

And I spent hours and hours and more hours deciphering what it’s trying to tell me. Somewhere, over the other side of bridge there is someone waiting but I know I would never cross it because I am pretty sure I will drown in the middle. First steps aren’t the problem for me but tangibility of bridges have always been unreliable for the giver. And I fall, I drown, I gasp, I cry no one comes for help. Not even the soul I saw on the other side — who, in all consciousness, still trying to make sense if I am worth saving.

It scares me. It will happen all over again. It scares me that I am going to try jump across without any fear though I am terribly scared of water (but in reality probably of staying unloved and unwanted pretending to be seasons—unbothered by anyone). I will make tresses of my hair to overcome the distance if need be knowing its going peak out the pain in my roots. But it petrifies me. This vicious cycle of mine, the result of which I never learn, the result which is non-existent. You can’t tame a wild heart, can you? maybe console for a bit while but it’s going to run on its horses again the moment you let it.

Living holding the things in cage isn’t living either. So what do you do? You let your heart run wild. With zero directions, no navigational skills and stupid bravery. And I will let it too. I fear it.

Sometimes, I fear my fearlessness.