Pain flows to the tranquil waters.

The pain will find a way to flow. It’s not in the nature of pain to stay stagnant unlike happiness that is a deep deep ocean. Somedays pain flows like a river, somedays like a waterfall, but it will, it so will. The flow will hurt and leave marks where it has been. It will destroy all that ceases its flow or tries to redirect it. Taking along everything it can even if it means tearing it apart mercilessly. But the same flow will keep the flowers along it’s way from withering and nurture the life that is born and grows in it. The same flow will make way for the new. And finally it is the same flow that will drift into the calm, composed ocean and lose itself in its magnificence. The flow supplies to the ocean. The hurt however is the happiness.

Nothing at all

I’m loosing it all

Not in pieces 

But all at once

Just trying to hold my grip 

Just pushing that second away when I finally give up

I’m loosing it all and with every passing second it’s just getting difficult 

One person at a time is waving a goodbye, they are all marching away together 

I don’t know what hurts more, my foolishness of expecting them to stay or their unfaithfulness towards me 

It’s just aching like shards of glass pieces pierces into my heart each one deeper than the other. 

My head spinning, not knowing what to do or where to go. 

Having no one left my demons are advancing towards me 

And finally I loosen my grip on the rope of hope and suddenly it’s somehow lighter 

I don’t feel the ground, I don’t feel the force. 

I just don’t feel anything. 

Greater than happiness.

Sometimes we don’t know why we do what we do,
Why we say what we say,
Why we take the path that we take,
Why we choose the people we choose.

Perhaps for the momentary relief from a weight that is shifted from our chest. The weight of doing something, saying something, that was always left undone, unsaid.

Once in a while for the satisfaction, also momentary, of taking the path that scares us, the one that calls us.

We do it also because in that moment fear becomes our drive, fear of losing forever the profound thrill of doing it, saying it, taking that path and being with those people.

Sometimes we do it for the act, the words, that one particular path, the one specific person, since it is only them that have the tendency of leaving us the closest to happiness that we have ever been. And though it lasts only for the fraction of a second, it is never regretted cause it is this feeling that is somehow greater than happiness itself.

Merry Christmas🎄

For all I have known about Christmas after all these years celebrating it, is that, there is always something about it that stays, something that you carry forward with you, something that is just so great yet so simple that you cannot easily forget it.

It stays as a feeling or a memory or both or even something else, something that one can cherish for forever to come. Be it untangling tinsel or spending the Christmas evening alongside loved ones with a hurting stomach out of laughing too hard. It is what I like to call it the magic of Christmas, a timeless treasure, the warmth of home, the company of good people, it is the love one cannot put into words.

December Winds

These misty winds are bringing back something, what, I cannot quite recognise.

Perhaps, a memory.

Perhaps, a thought.

Perhaps, the makings of my own mind.

When the cold tip of my fingers out of habit reach out to my freezing face, a warmth spreads in my heart and I’m sure, these hazy winds are bringing back something.

These winds though lovely are harsh and I would easily prefer the safety of layers warm clothes but I know these murky winds are up to something, when I crave to touch bare handed life blooming through a Phlox.

Words don’t come easy now, as they do in summer and just evaporate into the thin air. But I can feel in my bones, these smokey winds are up to something when what I speak weaves itself in the thick folds of chilly air.

The Sun has burned down my foot prints and the rain has washed them away but in the snow they seem to dwell and when I retrace them, I know these smoggy winds are bringing back something when I am led to the shelter of an old friend.

These blankets of snow that I see, remind me of how life can be, though the book cannot change now, a new chapter so shall it be. My words in ink will fade away, my deeds these winds will keep and I hear, that, they are up to something.

I, the Heliophile, the Pluviophile but in this moment more in love with the feuillemort leaves around the deciduous trees and these cloudy winds are surely up to something, as it brushes these leaves away, wiping the slate clean, making way for the spring.

But this wind, how restless and bustling is here but not for long, it will be gone and I’d still be wondering if it were right to wish it hadn’t, when a nostalgic blow of glaucous air brings to me all the answers, so I shut my eyes, and the wind can leave for now.

But once again the cycle will come to a halt at the most pleasant time of the year, like the scintillating star atop the Spruce or the Pine or the Fir shines brightest of all.

Perhaps, to bring back the old.

Perhaps, to make way for the new.

Perhaps, just to make it’s presence known.

To the pulse that echoes of Us 

​No, I don’t remember, I don’t remember the first time we met, 

Or when you told me you love me, 

Or even when I told you we could take a chance

I don’t remember how many or even where the letters that you gave me as tokens of your love are. 

I did not press the flowers that you brought me between the pages of my favourite books, so that whenever I open those books the wilted roses would remind me of our beautiful days.

No, I don’t complain about the limited time we have. I’m just fine with what comes unsolicited. 

No, I don’t accept presents from you, because I know one day you will be gone and those presents would remind me of your absence. 

No I don’t let out my feelings often, because I know they will haunt me forever to come. 

I don’t lament over the fact that years from now I don’t see us together. Because earlier I didn’t know better than to cling on to love. 

Those little gestures, those silly little gestures that you call expressions of your love remind me every now and then of how much you are like I used to be. 

My ability perhaps to perceive them as nothing more than temporary, reminds me of how much I’ve become like the people I then wanted to please. 

No, I don’t remember or I pretend to not but you need to understand that I used to and now I know better. 


‘Why do you write sad?’ you ask, even when I tell you I’m happy with you. 

How do I answer you?

I have learned the hard way around that happiness, it isn’t everlasting and people well they too like the seasons change and it is merely foolishness to expect otherwise. 

So I have nothing but this, bittersweet as it is, as an answer. 

When I write sad, I don’t write it for the present, I write it for the future. 


“My love for him was like the bird that roved amongst the unascertained thickets, ascended to the unfathomable boundary of the azure welkin, explored just soo much but was dazzled by none as was left spellbound by loving him. It would always run home at the close of the day, always back to him.”

“Then? what happened then?” 

“Then one dawn he caged it, he caged me. Bit by bit my love ceased to flourish. And however astonishing to him and me, I began to hate him.”


​I somehow know I will see the world better now. 

It’s not like hearts won’t break or tears won’t fall but when they do I’ll know I can still stand tall. 

Because until now the sparks between the stones rubbed against each other just flew up into the air. 

But now just somehow those sparks are catching fire. 

‘Walking away’

How does it feel being the first to walk away?

Leaving behind people who expect you to stay.

Show me the road you take and I’ll go the other way, 

I don’t want to risk the chances of our paths crossing again someday.

I sit right there hoping you’d come, at least you’d turn, 

But the monster inside you made you jump and run.

Then is when I knew I have to move with questions unanswered, 

I’m not walking away, I’m just walking forward.

All memories I’ll erase, the bridges I set on fire you’ll see. 

Each shred of love I had for you I’ll rip and set free. 

I’ll find things to love again and won’t look back to ask you why. 

Least I’m better than you, who left with an unsaid goodbye.

And maybe one day I’ll sit again and look back at life, 

In midst of chaos how to find peace I strived. 

Happy in the life that then scared me cause it was without you,

Even if the hardest of all was walking away still loving you.