I used to be different,
And then I turned indifferent,
And then there was this difference,
That differently differed from my indifference,
And instantly I turned different
Different from my determined indifference
Indifferent from the deterred difference
Yet a difference, quite different

Smite me..

Resilience, begin to fade
The strength, wearing too
Demeanour, degrades
Of me, for them too…


The appetite, appals
And yet, they keep coming
At me, if not, for…

That’s what am left at
Ask, I am for more.


When you eat a potato the next time, remember this.

It was alive.

It had brothers and sisters and perhaps even emotional bond with fellow vegetables.

It had potential to blossom into a bigger being, into parenting many more potatoes.

You cooked him alive. Robbed it of any possible future.

Next time someone preaches you to turn vegetarian. Reply. Potato.
Ps: I don’t hate vegetables. I love animals too.
I just don’t preach my food choices.

Take time. Stop

Take time. Stop
This isn’t a race,
Nothing to earn, by finishing first
Nor would you gain, if you still run..
So take time. Stop. Live.
Bask in all the glory,
Even if it won’t bring any fame..
Because all we are, are free souls,
Bound. Known.
And then forgotten. As names.

My world, without a home

Something I wrote last year, on this day. Never published!

My World, without a home
Without bricks, mortar, or stone
Yet so much to see,
Though, I can’t call it just my own,
You see, my world,
Is a world, without a home.
No boundaries, no wall to hold back,
In nights, no familiar roof to stare,
With no locks, and no key to spare.
My world, without a home


Bullet drain!


Just about another day in my life, life of a fellow commuter in Mumbai. So I managed to get inside the train, and fortunately I can plant both my legs to the floor. I am quite certain one isn’t on someone’s shoe. I can’t feel my legs, but am pretty sure they are both firmly planted. How else can I stand this way with nothing to hold on to.
Ofcourse I have people around me, some too close for my comfort, but then am not seeking comfort today. Actually neither today, nor yesterday, never. My intention is to reach the place where I can land my rear to earn my livelihood. So what if I can’t land it here.
I am happy today though, a small chunk of it is for the rail budget. Yay! I can finally brag to my fellow world citizens about India having a bullet train. Just like we did when Mumbai got the leaky metro. I am happy that a huge chunk of money would be coming from the private sector, ofcourse they will recover it with atrocious pricing, but that’s ok, the public sector entity raised prices ‎too. Am expected to not mind it.
So my tax money will go in aide of a Surat businessman to be able to commute to Mumbai so that he can sell me two things I desperately need. Diamonds. Milk. In that order.
So what if I can’t travel like a respectful being to work. I can show my generosity. So what my quality of life won’t get polished, your gems would.

The Last of her

Inhale. Exhale

Inhale. Exhale

There she was, with a gentle glow..‎
Luring me, to touch her by my lips.
A flame within her, tempting me
To breathe, with. To breathe within

And I just stare, as there’s been enough
Not now, not anymore.
This is it. No more from now.
This is going to be the last.
The Last. The last cigarette.  ‎

– An intro of hopefully a long story someday

Requiem of a dream – scribble

Woke up, to the silence of a scream, 
Bound to ‎world’s definite realms, 
Bound by pain, in pursuit of a dream,‎
Hoping to rise, if not, awaken into a new tomorrow, 
Higher, newer than this saga of sorrow, ‎
Awaken, into a new dream,
Beyond, this world’s definite realms, 

One that they foresaw,‎
Foresaw and stayed alive, ‎
Alive, in requiem of a dream..‎

On a cold Christmas night

I saw the Sun breakthrough darkness,
And moon disappear in bright.
Wind swaying gentle,
On a cold Christmas night.
Things I try forget,
Reminded, at every attempt,
Of what time makes today,
Is of all that, that I’ve spent..
Do things for doing,
For doing that appease,
I was here as myself,
And not here to please..
On a cold Christmas night,
I forgot. I forgave

Why this now?

Every moment an option,
Every course a choice,
Everything happening now,
Or that, which has happened before,
Is what you once chose,
Good, bad or just nice.
So don’t ask on why this & how,
Because every present, presents, more