For you, stranger.

I am no lover, just a silent stranger, and you attract me; your art, your mind and not this body which melts with time, into the shackles of earth, and mix in rubbles of fumbling mankind. I see you, with a ‘hi’ oscillating in my vocal cord; words of appreciation gets entangled in my tongue, which I swallow. Deep down there is a child that still fears to cross the boundary laid by uncivilized civilians.

Will you tell me what it is to be you?

Night, it’s dark, or is light, away from the noises or with our silence, nothingness. We question life, our existence and or feel dead. Dead as in alive yet immobile, unaware of what lies outside, or inside, a blank conscience, an unfeeling brain, unaffected by time, uninterestingly also called sleep. What intrigues me is a …

Stone-age is calling….

I was restless, and a bit of rest took me to a forest, a dream, illusion, or hallucination, whatever you might say. It gave me peace. I went into the woods dark, the core of the forest, where in search of light I had to look up in the sky, but there were just leaves, …

Blocks, me , and my imaginary friend

Now this is my first attempt, a short story. hope you guys like it. Give your reviews.

Of love and void.

“It always ends in this manner!” “What manner? What are you talking about?” she asked confused. “Oh! It’s nothing. My poetic mind was pained to notice something.” “I understand. You were thinking, and something pricked your mind like a thorn; your emotions were so strong, that you spoke, just like you scream, a reflex I …

By the river

I sat beside the river, carefully, staying away from the tides, on that un-textured land formed by depositions of sand and man, or the ones who used to be alive, but now just a part of them resides on these pavements, where I feel their vibes. I feel their cries, they speak about life, speak …

Stranger Inside, conscience.

We want to change, listen to that damn voice, which though unfelt by our ears, never caused vibrations in that dark little cave, and yet we feel voices in our head. We don't question who produces it, and it’s strange; we get distracted by slightest disturbance hitting our drums, yet these screams are known to …

An Unusual Conversation

its an heavily inspired content. It starts with a different note but ending is unlikely(that also depicts why can't you win argument with girls),but the way it ends made me think..Are we really uncomfortable....:)

Goodbye

I lost my dream; a strong bond helped; connection lost; pain returned, this time with no one to connect. Just me and my words, darkness and my demons. For-

Smoke

its what we feel, what none can heal...