Darkest lights from the colourless soul

It’s hard to even write right now with all the voices surrounding me. No not the crackers, the voices of pain and suffocation accompanied by sheer loneliness and all I have right now in front of my eyes is a picture of her. A picture so vivid that I can actually see all the dark lights reflecting from her eyes. I can see her curled up in her bed as she’s looking out the window, she’s praying but her prayers are empty. She nods to voices inside her head slowly, trying to make her self believe that she’s doing ‘fine’.

Only the cries are left from the fights she has fought in the past. The scars are everywhere because of that. It’s killing her now as even her cries are mute because of the vacuum of emotions that is surrounding her soul. No one can hear them, she’s screaming but there’s no sound. Waiting for someone to open the door and just hold her for eternity.  The soul is being rotted out in the salinity of her blood.

Oh wait, I see her again, she takes another puff for her soul to breathe. Just stop there, you! STOP! take a deep breath, leave that blanket, it’s bleeding as your nails are dug so deep into it. Take your face out of that pillow that is drenched in your tears. If you see up you’ll know your face is shining brighter than the lights. That your soul is beautiful and you will always be in my prayers. The sun will shine but this time it won’t rise from east but from within you.

Hang on lover, you’ll see the light again. Hang on lover, you’ll start to feel again. Hang on, my soul.

-P (forever)





The Chronicles Of A Jaded Lover

“She’s a lover. She’s one of a kind”, this is what everyone heard about her. The legend says the light from her eyes kept the sun alive, her beauty was only comparable to the goddess that created her, her skin smelled like the pure moonlight and her hair tangled the stars in it. She wasn’t one of us, she was a lover. A lover who could take on the world without shedding a tear. A lover who could bring colour to palest of things. A lover who could animate the inanimate. Oh! how much I wanted to experience the phenomenon of looking at her.

It was early morn, the sky is ready to embrace the light as she raises her arms to join her hands with the air rushing through the crevices between her fingers. She takes a look over her shoulder, she wants to be alone. Her eyes are full of morning dew and the eyelashes can succumb any second now. As she starts to pray the weight falls from her eyes, the skin starts to shed to become a blanket for the past. The misty eyes, the foggy lips have now started to filter the surroundings. She inhales the fumes of sorrow which are slowly revolving around her, creating a perfect motion for her to feel as if she’s drowning in her self made pool of grief.

She’s murmuring the chants as the excess skin from her cracked lips falls to the ground and the blood that is left behind evaporates into thin air like a spirit. Her feet is cut, her back is hurt. Every little inch of her is suffering and breaking as the prayer comes out from her mouth. The immortal angels are dying with her every tear and the gods are mourning.

I think she is tired, her body is not reacting to love, what’s happening?

 Her soul is now a sheet of paper with scribbles of her broken dreams. The dreams which made her feel more close to us humans cause she wasn’t ‘one of us’. The broken promises and lies kept swirling and tossing her soul and her body from one corner to another.  With a hope of finding a safer corner than the previous. She didn’t know that with every toss the fall was taking a nibble out of her soul. She needed a cushion, something gentle to fall onto. A cushion made of thousand snowflakes woven with pieces of her own skin(because nothing would be as gentle as this).

The days are a lot less brighter now, the nights don’t have that same old cool breeze but,  I know she’ll soon break her fall, her soul will rejuvenate like the birth of the biggest star and  her heart will float again in the weightlessness of her emotions, she’ll break her shell to fly again. She’ll become even more beautiful(if that’s even possible) with this rebirth.

Because she’ll always be a LOVER and not one of US.


Boyfrenemy & Frenemies

To one and all, of the very minimal audience to whom this post is gonna reach, for the very few eyes those are going to read this word to word, this one is my one and the very last post that is ever going to be jotted down.. NEVER! I repeat! NEVER do I intend to write a post post this one.

Wondering why ? Well if you are then, there, let me tell you that in life their occurs a point where you only feel betrayed by all around you, YOUR VERY LOVE and then even the one’s who care for you or ONE’S WHO CARED FOR YOU once upon a time. Whatever the situation maybe, and then, it’s even harder for you to finally realize that thats not actually a feeling but you are after all betrayed. Physically assaulted/physically hurt (literally) with all the bruises/emotionally reckoned/mentally frightened/forcefully stable/unfortunately troubled/deeply digged by the heaviness of anxiety/horribly weak/dissatisfied by each and every element that is there within you and in the very air around you. The tiniest particle of dust is even better than the oxygen that you breathe….

Phew! Lets talk about the former one first : YOUR VERY LOVE! If you religiously have been following all that I have wrote so far, you might very well know what I have for him is above LOVE! It’s my worship. You know the feeling when for years and years when you have been paying all your respects to this one particular God, without a miss and you have all the faith in him that he won’t let you down, suddenly starts paying more attention to the new visitors in his temple just because they are new and all he wants to do is increase the number of followers… How will you feel ??? When you have thought of nothing all these years, spoken of nothing, dreamt of nothing, very honestly have only been head down to your God, with the believe that he will make all this worth while and all you conclude is that he is just attracted to this new fancy list of foreigner followers , how will that feel ??? Where will you go ???? What door will be left now ????? NONE! Of course you will be insecure, won’t you ???? When you have been dying quite literally just to see him, searching him all these months just for just a glance of him through the entire crown, traveling every place, seeing him in every person possible, you actually end up glancing him with a fresh faced actually pretty but ugly in my eyes looking female follower, will that be alright ????? When it will start reaching public through all the media, and you will know that a million mutual connections that the both of you had have actually seen him with her now. Won’t you feel like the biggest fool ever ???? Like all this time, all that happened was that you ended up making a mockery out of yourself…. The actual feeling would be like you are harassed by eyes of everyone but above all, your faith has died. Buried under some one else’s grave. Imagine. There is ground level, then the soil, then the root level, and alot beneath it is buried a grave and now go deeper, deeper than that, right there, thats where your faith has finally flushed through. No one can ever even try to bring that faith back because no one will ever be able to find it. So just like that boom! Gone. My faith in Love just like that disappeared. And I was all about it so far. So far I thought that I knew it all on Love but I was so wrong. So I QUIT! The biggest and the strongest reason that could have ever stopped my fingers from typing all the crap that I have up until now. #boyfrenemy

– L.H.S.

Moving to the latter part : THE FRIENDS WHO CARED !!! The sucked up life that I already had with almost a negative set of people whom I could say friend or friends have now thrown me. Literally. Had fun with me to build a life/Hit me/Scared the f*** out of me/Helped me cry an ocean/Increased all the pain inside of me and yet still can even think to exist in my life! WRONG! Absof***inglutely wrong. Now imagine this : When *your very love* is away from you. Seven oceans as they say. So far away from you, and you have just 1 or 2 people to count on and then one out of them just hits you. You know.. Well hitting would be the last part I would say. Like the part that ended it all. A friend who you thought knows you way more than you do, that friend brings this very very huge pile of disturbance in your life and when that was not enough, he just throws it at you. Like bang!!!!! Straight on your head. And that just pushes the faith grave even deeper. Hats off to such friends who are existing in your life to make hell even worse for you. Like one fault after the other, one after the other, that pile just ends up on your head, injures you! Your body and your brain… So now ??? Now what ????? Forget door. There is not even a bloody window thats left now. Forget a full window, there is not even a cracked window pane to see through now…… And you know what are you expected after allllllllll this ???? TO UNDERSTAND!!!! To understand their problems, their issues, their troubles. Hello ? Am I invisible ???????? You use the body, you use the emotions, and the instead of understanding what might have went wrong, enters your problems, so you know f*** your problems and now, UNDERSTAND, and well if one day you are really firm about your decision and DONNOT UNDERSTAND, then well this entire stack of his issues will hurt you bad. For days, and guess what, you will then be forced to UNDERSTAND that too.! #frenemies

– R.H.S.

Ever wondered why I named myself as the “soultalker?” Because I thought that all that I had in me/in my soul, each and everything, I will draw it all here. The two forms of love, the partner love and the friend love and both are gone now. At least out of everything, this will be my space, my area, the only place where my sacred soul could rest for a while in all the hustle, but what happened, the Boyfriend is not even aware of the existence of such a place in this world and for the friend it was either not convincing enough so it wasn’t trusted at all or it was disrespected by him. So the Soul has slept off forever. Even beneath the faith ! The walls of my room have snatched it from me and kept it in themselves, I am sure even the walls will take better care of it after all. And I think it’s fine for my soul to travel and never find peace ever or sleep it off or whatever, God I really don’t care now. Shit I need to stop using his name now.

Combining both 1 and 2 , the reasons for my non-existence from now on is well explained I presume. I know that no one out here will also even realize that I left, just like I am the perfect person to be blocked out of people’s life, this another time, one more time.! Ah! What the hell. Carrying your body like a heavy metal is so exhausting is actually a self-realization every day.

I don’t know how life has got such a great sense of humor, but it just really gets you in the stomach and stabs the way to your spine to make you laugh out tears!

My dearest, my partner ended up becoming a friend first, then a boyfriend, and then an enemy and well my whatever friend(s), now only and only enemies!!!! Tough but I guess it’s now time for me to really understand that friends of any kind are not my cup of tea.

Never were, never will be!!!!!

And well when L.H.S. = R.H.S.


P ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~R~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~N

And this^ , this is the distance between ME! The BOYFRENEMY! And The FRENEMY!!!!

This is quite the figurative side of my distance with them when actually this entire blank space that is left in this page is less to define my distance with them!

So! GO! Increase the distance between us.

Follow your followers.

Don’t ever meet in between.

Don’t ever meet me in my sleep if I ever do.

Don’t try to enter the covers of my blanket.

Lets not tie us UP.

Don’t fill the empty blank.

Don’t bring the magnets to cherp.

And well in the end, it’s always YOU, ALONE who is left!


Your’s Souldeadfully




Unawakened Mornings

The rays of the morning sun that encompasses the blinds of my room to scream all over my soul that eagerly wants to wake me up when all I want to do at that time is scream back even louder than those rays that are lighting up the entire nation that my soul will still remain unawakened.. It’s not just the violet rays that I want to revert back with, they are all sorts of dark solid colors that has no protection…. So powerful that it can make the sun go blind…

It’s like I leave behind my soul on bed every single morning when I leave for work… It’s just lying there under the covers when my body is spaced out around his location. Correction : ex-location.

When there is no sleep in the night, how can it anyway be a morning ?? Forget good. It’s just a pale, formal, unwanted, itchy, dull morning that doesn’t want me to move. Nothing at all gives me a motivation to scrap my face out of the pillow. It’s so deep in it that the eyes still feel that it’s night…

The birds are not cherpy anymore.. They are crying every morning just like my soul. So they, along with the soul, are only dripping tears. The trees don’t bloom, nor is the sky blue! No inspiration, no enthusiasm, no happy faces…

So as I was saying, my soul pushes my body away and hence my body leaves the soul just like the leaves leave the trees to fall and stress the Earth even more , the petals from the flowers just keep falling one by one making surroundings uglier by the morning… The soul , it doesn’t even move, I wonder why the body does. All the time, this is the reason why I keep feeling lifeless. It’s because my body carries no soul. All it carries is the heaviness of the waiting … the burden of one-sided desperate Love… the suffocation… the hunger….

Just like my soul, even the dreams in my eyes remain unawakened… How can there possibly be any dreams when there is no sleep ? When the eyes don’t shut for even a second?? When they just end up drowning in the tears??? Many dreams are found on my pillow covers that came out in the night, ones that fall off in the form of my tears…. Just like feathers keep shedding from the birds on such mornings, just like me they lose their grace, they look a little less pretty by the day, they get rid of their USP every single morning. The morning is more like mourning… What’s the point of even brushing the teeth or cleaning yourself up or wearing clothes??? What are these mornings bringing ???

The only motive I see of these culprit mornings is that they separate loved one’s from being together. Every guy leaves for work and leaves behind the person who loves him the most : grandmother/mother/sister/wife/girlfriend. Most women leave too, leaving some loved relation behind… The mornings are only meant for separation! How evil is that !!!!

And look how time plays the wittiest role in all this… When it’s time to separate in one country, it just brings together every one in the country far off!

Who made this system any way ? If nature did so, it really couldn’t be more wrong… Because in such a way, all the birth proofs from the hospital of when a child is born is wrong. What time do they consider ? Why does the time depend on the country that you are born in ?? This means that no particular time for anything ever is correct. Not of birth and definitely not of death… Is it that our lives have just been a big lie all this time???? The two countries can’t even celebrate the same festival on the same day. One’s celebration is others silent working day.. Cruel! Cruel!! Cruel!!! The people in Love apart can’t even live with the very feeling that they are being part of the same festivities at the same time.

Ideal mornings are those when you wake up right next to the soul that you are mate with. Why don’t they make such a rule ?? Every time when YOU wake, I wake ??? Such mornings would want me to wake up unlike the being dead , not being able to see a fresh new morning at present.

Why can’t every morning be your sight to watch ?? Why can’t we pamper ourselves in the same plate of breakfast, when no clothes will matter, when kissing wont require any effort, when the same toothbrush be brought to use, when the baths are gonna be as bubbly as my cheeks, when both the souls be wide awake to meet again, when our eyes will be the only thing to drown in, when the alarms would be your bite on  my ear, when cuddles will bundle us together with joy, when we will welcome the sun the way it’s meant to be, when both our faces be only HAPPY!

Let me open my eyes and see you one fine morning..

Think about it…

Awake this bouquet of imagination….

Your’s Soulfully


Stapled Chunks Of The Broken Heart

When you feel that everything inside you is scattered into a million pieces floating all around, reaching different corners of your body , coming in contact with all organs, poking them in a really painful manner, and you are too much into denial to even give a lost glance to it, it bleeds, makes a clot in your heart, the residue just travels finding more space to reside in and suddenly in the same process the eyes get red, the bruises form a bridge for the battle between the soul and the body to get started, both fight like complete warriors every night, the soul wants to give it another day while the body wants pure death, and the body is so weak that is loses the war every time with the rise of the sun. The soul then just picks up all the pieces of everything that is lost in the battle and some how adjusts them to be together, sticks them and staples it. Nothing less than a thousand marks of the pins that get stapled are found on the heart, that in some way it gets fixed and starts functioning properly.. but the soul forgets that the increase in the number of marks is the sign of the heart only getting weaker, the crumpled, rotten heart that barely has any blood to pump, is now stumped under the pressure of those pins….

While the heart rests in pain, the ghost of all the sadness in the world brings a bag full of salt and sprinkles it thoroughly all over the bruises and every single time when a single particle comes in touch with the wounds, they emerge as tears from the eyes, dust from the lungs, smoke from the liver, broken shaky segments from the heart and a burst of memories from the past from the soul which splashes out huge chunks of the most wonderful times spent together and those chunks then cause Love Trafficking. It’s the most illegal approach to love, absolutely unfair, because nothing in the air in or around me is ready to think of those memories, so it makes it impossible for the existence of the body or the soul. Even suffocation feels like pleasure at the time.. I then throw up such wasted memories! Wherever I go, I have to be extremely careful to not to run into any such gang that would be doing the Trafficking of Love for him. No song, no place, no where I could find a peaceful place to survive in, they are all around, on every red light, some of the memories are poisoned but I still see them. Where do I stop ? Whom do I wait for ??

All the chunks (of memories) that are then pinned together (to the heart) are then distributed to all the parts of the body, the brain the most and the brain then circulates it to the deepest portions of the soul which in turn gets the vibe to fight every night all over again because it wants to live for all those memories, because it can’t take that all of it is just gone like that, because it wants it all back and still hopes for all the broken images captured from the past make a beautiful collage. The soul wants to then frame this collage on one of the biggest walls of the future home that would have him and me as residents and it wants to come out as an ultimate warrior…

I know I don’t have a pinch of strength left in me but if I someday get to see a glance of him or his shadow somewhere in the crowd, I would knit all of my inner self with every drop of blood that stains and make a flawless future out from it not caring if that leads to the end of the journey of my life because at this point, carrying this huge chunk on my shoulders is only getting tougher, I see the body bending everyday a little and the bump is the only thing on the rise now!

Stop all this R! Just bring a stop to all this already. Every bone in my body is only waiting for you to come and fix every crack in it. I don’t know for how much longer will I be able to take it, so you just have to come and take this loathe off of me. Set my soul free, bring our hearts together because only that can heal it..

Staple OUR eyes together.

Staple OUR fingers together.

Staple OUR hearts together.

Staple OUR bodies together.

Staple OUR souls together in the chunks of the memories yet to be created.

Staple the distance between US together forever.

Staple OUR futures together!

And hence, staple OUR NAMES TOGETHER!


PR <3<3


The Immortal Addiction

The never ending dark nights, the undying fall from the eyes, his long-lasting fragrance that rushes through my hair.. on some windy day I find them rubbing on my face while I feel his presence… my passion for his arms to enclose me like a mother would to her baby in the womb… the peace to my ears while he shouts.. the cure to my wounds when he hurts me… the pull that I feel when he pushes me away…

Self-destruction being the only possible solution to my addiction at this moment, I long for the unfading memories that maybe on the verge of being a blur in front of his eyes.. I feel that the more he is getting lost, the more I am finding myself stuck in those memories… Is that normal ? Why can’t a soul process in the same manner as of it’s soul mate ? After all, they are mates for a reason. Then why ???? Why do they make a mess ?? Do the external factors have something to do with this ? Is it that living in different weather conditions, eating different kinds of food, meeting different kinds of people making souls to behave like this to it’s respective mates ? Is this why long-distance is the hardest circumstance a relationship can go through??? Are we insane to blame it to the distance and the time all together when the actual reason is hiding somewhere? Irony!

It would be just as hard to believe that I haven’t slept in a month and a half now, probably an hour or so here and there in a day but thats all, I see the enslavement being so dominant on my soul/my body that if I can’t be with him then I would at least like to be active in the hours when he is active somewhere around the globe like I just have to be wide awake if he is awake in case there is some trouble and he needs me, or not. How can I sleep while he is up somewhere ? And well when it’s time for him to sleep, I obviously can’t rest my eyes then either, because otherwise who will protect him in case a nightmare in his eyes sparks or he finds trouble sleeping ??? And oh! when he sleeps well, it’s like a sight of heaven to watch so who would miss that? Yes my eyes pain , they pain like they might go blind but it would be more than worth it and so its more of pleasure : correction!

There are prayers that I keep enchanting.. mantras, magic spells, conversations with the Almighty to give him all the share of my happiness ever, so I don’t smile much or laugh because that bit might touch his lips, and even if the ratio of that would be 100:1, i.e., his one smile to me not smiling for a 100 times when required, I would be the happiest person on Earth! Irony no.2!! So I decided, accidental laughs in a day would end up by me beating my self up for doing so, so there is a record that I have literally started maintaining now.

The pleasure in all of this is so much so that I feel like this was the very reason for my birth.. to provide him with everything that he wants and when he gets a hold to all of it, I as a whole become mortal. His dreams live forever through my death. Irony no.3!!! And why not ? That death would be better than this life thats somehow prevailing in his absence.

I sometimes end up reading on how to hallucinate in such nights , I feel like finding a power, a power through which I can try to feel him, his presence, his touch, something at least.. and if there is no such power then giving rise to one because just seeing him once becomes so necessary that I feel like the entire room, the bed, the walls, the mirror, everything is going to eat me up so I shout, I squabble, I change positions, I crush myself in different angels, then I pray to him, I keep taking his name till I get normal… his name has it, when recently I came to know that his first name means complete and his last name means God, I don’t know if thats the right meaning in the dictionary or what but he is one Complete God to me.!

Everything might deteriorate some day, the entire world, the destruction, even the planet, but somewhere somehow, my passion/my addiction/my craving/my compulsion will still be alive for you decades from now… It will keep you alive ALWAYS!!! My love for you will never fade R. May happiness be after you and not the other way round.

For now, if there is the slightest possible thing that you could do , then come and bring back my decaying soul back to life. Bring the light to the darkened nights. Only you have the power to do so my Love..

Just YOU!


And let the only thing mortal between US be the distance. Kill it ! Kill it now .

Let the dryness of our lips fill our souls up to be one .

I Love YOU. The Immortal Kind!






A Drunk Doll’s Dream!

My doll is broken,

The collection of 579 dolls since I was tiny are now broken,

The hair of each doll have fallen off, and so have been their plastic hearts ripped off,

The eyes wont slitter anymore, nor do they look pretty,

They used to dream with me all night and each doll had about a 1000 dreams which means that 576000 dreams are now lost which means lost of every emotion, every fear , every delicate moment of life….


My dad’s doll is broken too,

There is not much difference,

The heart of my dad’s doll is chucked out and a huge chunk of it has been fed to the street dogs,

The eyes of my dad’s doll won’t shut for a second,

The dreams of my dad’s doll are only horror,

The fits are for real,

The body of my dad’s doll is sweating all the time,

And “it” looks ugly as f***,

The story of my dad’s doll is far more painful because its a real person. “It” is ME!

“It” was assaulted as a kid all along and there was no one to burry her pain apart, no one whom “it” could tell on how her own close relations would eat her up. “It” was literally treated like a doll, a non-living toy to play with, just that “it” had pretty hair and the flickering flaunting eyes.

Today “it” is found in a garbage can two blocks from here full of dirt from the rains, and the only thing still talking is “it’s” eyes, the open-eyes that are stuck at a point for days, no movement anywhere,

Some liked “it’s” clothes, so they took them, some liked “it’s” jewelry, so some people took that,  some liked “it’s” hair bands, so they took it , some liked “it’s” shoes, so they even took that but no one liked “it’s” heart. No one! No one liked “it’s” soul!!! No one liked “it’s” dreams.

All thought that “it” was drunk! Wasted!! Hammered!!!! But was “it” really ? Yeah “it” was. High on love of the long lost lover. The wait ate “it” all up.

The one and only dream “it” always had locked up in her eyes was of “it’s” masculine owner, it never knew that he would just play with “it” and let go when done.. How strong do you think “it” could’ve been in all this ????? “It” kept on longing for the love of the owner 24*7, 365 days in and out all the time, but all “it” was treated as just another toy.

Its him who has thrown him out to garbage now. “It” now stinks all what and the frustration in “it’s” dreams are only boiling up by the second… “It” was never drunk! “It” was just wanting a dream to come true. A dream of life! A dream of mankind. A dream of love! Was it too much to ask for ????

”It” gave in possibly everything “it” could have all what without thinking twice, not about her own self for once , none at all . Yes . Yes “it” looks so high now of sorrow , It’s like “it’s” already placed perfectly well in the grave but there is still no peace . Yes she throws up every now and then probably “it’S” way too wasted .: Even the grave is full of dirt now .

Finding you is actually like trying to come back to life right after death . It really is that tough right at this moment . Its making me sick! In no time I really might quit this full of shit life. Really , I have no idea why life got in the way between you and me ..

I have considered myself nothing but a non-living thing in this post and that’s because that’s what I am without you .

One of those dolls who only used to come alive when touched on the heart or kissed on the cheek or tapped on the feet or when braided or when fed or flicked on the head ..

If there is any humanity/love left across this planet , God will have to get him to me . If he actually wants me to come back to life . If my life holds any value at all . If he wants me to be me , he will have to take steps back already closer to me .. if I ever loved him at all , he will just have to! If there was the slightest of honesty in what I felt for him , he will show up from somewhere , don’t know where from exactly but he will.

Turn those keys around so that I can start clapping again R!

Sober me up to your high!

Wake me up to your dreams!

Fix your doll up!

Even dolls have souls!!!




Justifying the term as it is, A-part spelled backwards is A-trap.

Being a-part from you has trapped me like a rat in a cage. An unwanted creature that has no where to be now a-part from being enclosed. Even that little piece of bread that lured me in the first place to get in is over. I wonder how shiny it appeared before I got to it, I was so quick and my hunger was beyond words to get hold of that tiny little bit of it. And now, now there is no bread and well, I am trapped!!!!

A chain! A chain so heavy is tied all around my entire body with zero to no space to move even the tiniest bit . The trap of being a-part from you is so monstrous that there is no way I can get out of it. Where my horizons are depleting by the day as this cage consumes me, I see your horizons stretching out to no limits! New people, new office, new places, new surroundings, not even a single thing probably which would make you remember me. And I on the other hand, sit here in the trap built by you with a huge clock in front of me. I am so hypnotized by the pendulum that I could hang my self up to death on it.

Biggest Trap of all is being A-part from you why don’t you get it ??? HUH???? Everything that I do in this trap makes me guilty as charge. I don’t know why I look at things because trust me everything that I see when I see it, all I feel like doing is snatching my eyes away to have seen it without you, where ever I go, I feel like burning that place down because its not with you, why that when I walk, my legs want to cut itself down for not walking towards you ???? Why that with everything that I eat, I am only getting empty in my stomach because even the food doesn’t want to get inside of me ??? Why is it that I just feel like each and everything that I do in a day is a punishment??? Everything that is existing without you just shouldn’t because you are not being participative here. Just this post! Because every bit of it includes you or the breathe I take because it smells of you or this body that calls out for you.!

Its like I have been cursed by the worst sin possible i.e. being away from you. Where I thought that 3 seconds in a day without you would be unsuccessful, right there, 3 months have passed by and as much as I happen to hate this number, I wouldn’t want you to make it even by 4. I promise you to give up my OCD for odd numbers specially 3 if you show up right away. Everything in my life will add up to 3 and thats a promise. 3 breaths a day, 3 meals, 3 times that I will brush my teeth, 3 times that I will go pee, 3 times I that will sleep, 3 times the smile on my face that will appear, even the fever that I will ever catch would be 103 or a 100.3!!! 3. 3. 3. Make this number to be the luckiest for me.

All my body needs is to be trapped in your arms, as hard as possible, crush me in there and I won’t mind or in those eyes, just trap all of me in them and close it, keep me there! or trap me in your heart and I will beat in whichever way you want me to or trap me in your brain and I will be the most intelligent of them all or trap me in your little pocket and I wont complain if I am not able to breathe or trap me in your tears and I will be so confined in your eyes to never fall off or trap me in your or trap me in your mouth or your ears or your fears or your laptop if thats what you love or any other gadget and I wont utter a single word all my life without your command or trap me in your shoes as your socks and I wont ever stink or trap me in your high that your get after alcohol and I will go never let you sober down.










The Numbing Bird

The paralyzed soul thats hanged to life. The frozen eyes. The drugged horizon of the body lying down straight. The senseless brain.

Zero responses. Failure in recollecting whats yours. Yelling in the ears of a dumb person. Displaying the most colorful nature in front of a blind person. Singing with no tongue on the top of your voice.

The sucked up blood that is sprinkled on the walls of the heart which has made a rangoli of a dying princess.

Salt on the wounds is the only thing giving pleasure. Handicapped knees crawling to him. The suicide note getting closer to be completed by the day.

The sun rays now emerge as a destructive source to ruin the nest. The cherpy birds have now experienced death. Their little ones have fallen from the edge. Thrown, stepped by on the ground, cut off wings, blown away by the winds..

The burnt emotions. The let down dreams. The impractical vision. The fear of facing the reality that exists no more. The price tag on tears teared off.

The obsession growing the size of my heart causing more pain. The planted thorns in my chest watered by tears every day. The fractured fingers playing tunes to my sorrow.

The pressure of depression pressing the weight of my fatal fears to kill the zeal inside me. The pain of vagina that breaks every month is now a treat and can be used to decorated my tomb.

The fallen leaves on the ground now are as lifeless as me here. The sweat from being torn down is the perfect fortune.

One by one, each and every layer of the body getting pealed of with every sentence that he utters. The strength to shut him up is vanished with my voice box, heart, soul, lungs…..

Like funeral happening in Disney land, breakups happening right in front of Eiffel tower, rejections happening on The Empire State Building, heart breaks happening at The Taj Mahal.

The flaws in our stars just laughing at me. Bullying me. Taking away the spark from the eyes away from me.

For every drop of rain that touches anywhere on the body is now converted into fire slowly burning the pages of my life down. The BLOG now turning into my death will deciding the share of poverty of love of my unborn kids..

Like the tiniest insects which are trying to find a way to a hole scrolling from my feet and making there way up are only crawling on my scalp sucking away the blood causing tremors of unstable love. The hands that shake only when I try to breathe…

The sickness causing asthma, vomits, body pain and what not is only leading to destruction of the soul because of the high residing in the lids of the swollen eyes in turn making them blind, making them dry!

Soul being raped, smiles being faked, life at stake, troubled by fate, in the process of wait has made life hell in today’s date . The buried wrath has its third month anniversary today and the coffin still feels like the cover of a magazine from centuries back because no one has visited it all this time…

My own nails scratching the peals of the soul off every night, no clothes on the body wishing to leave the way it came, the blanket has zero movement, glanced from far above, it will look immortal but still being dead in the position of hugging him.

Blading off a nerve tonight was the only thing left to do for the sake of existence, a reminder to self was necessary in order to live in the days to come. The fallen drops of blood has made a garden in his tribute, my tears go to play there everyday . The blood and tears mingle well… though the blood stinks of sweat that can’t wait any longer.

You want to know the highlight of the day though R ? I met your guard of the gate today, he was only feeling sorry for me, I sat and had a bite with him.. It made his day and mine too being closer to your premises talking about you… Funny thing was that i kept looking in the direction from which you used to come and he noticed and said he won’t come, right there, i got numb!

(no more words…..

Happy Anniversary 3 months. And if you want to make something numb , then numb the pain….


And may this bracket never be closed ..


Competing With The Curfew!

The 11th hour! The most crucial time of all to pay attention to the unattained emotions. When the time is following you wherever you go.. The darkest nights with not a light to follow, a complete black out in front of your eyes.. You are impaired of all the possible reflexes.. The deadline.. Quite literally ———-

Like your soul has been ordered to be statue not knowing when will it be over! The preposterous regulations until dawn. The fall of your body along with that of the day. The spark that is lost. The dullness is the only thing constant….

Have no where to be. Even the candles wont last and blow off immediately, no source of light! Just the dark and you hear all kinds of stray mourning down the street. The scared heart to itself … No hope! The dying religion.. The falling leaves… The drained away beauty of the nature. Like the end of the world.

Where you can’t even recognize your close ones, the ones who love you, because its pitch-black. So you can’t see them! Even though they are there but you are so blinded by the obsession and depression and madness of the very silent yet a night that shouts out mites! The mites that will eat all of you and no one will know because everyone is indoor. The mites that will then be eaten by cats and in turn dogs and so on.. No one will ever know where you disappeared in the twilight and time will still travel and make its all the way through.

Getting back home is the best possible solution as one of you may debate, but where is home ?? What to do with a home that has no shelter, no roof, no food, no water. Nothing as basic as air.

He is Home!

I am the potential buyer.. In books, on paper, everywhere. It is where I belong. That is the only place out there to get me safe around all the curfew! Even in this darkest space, i am all dressed up, waiting for you, wanting to be undressed, to be crowned up. Nothing. Not even this night can take the beauty you see in me away . From an outer space, you will only see me lighted up for you.! Phew!!!!!

So yes, these arms, this body, even my hair, are not safe in this injunction till I am rescued home… I don’t wanna run away from this nasty little place for crying out loud. I wanna be a permanent resident here if its not for him.

What will be the point of all the gala ? The life ?? The lights ??? The muse ???? I as it is feel like walking dead in an even dead place. The more everyone around me gets invisible, the more visible my tears become to him. The sound of only my heart is audible in a rescript.

SIGNALING : I keep sending him all kinds of signals through the breath I take, the fingers I move while writing this, the legs that are too restless to walk, the eyes that are getting closer to close by the day, the machine inside of me that roars his name, the lips that are let dry. Even the nails on my fingers are only growing for the hope to reach him and get that touch after all.

In the world that is getting older, my love for you is only getting younger by the day. When the most negative environment can’t let my feelings down for you, then I don’t know what will. I throw splashes of water on me after all the dirt that gets in the pores of my skin after a long day everyday, and now I have even started hating that. I don’t even want water to touch any of me. Nothing can except you….!

The organs that are alive in such a ruthless condition are only because you touched them at some point. The alarms are always on, so close to my brain, but the only voice that enchants straight up is that of your’s!

The very reason why my heart is still functioning is because of this one thing that i realized quite recently. It being : YOU!

YOU ARE THE BIRTHMARK TO MY HEART. The very core of it. Exactly why the curfew couldn’t harm it or me. I have you inside of me R! There is nothing less or nothing more that I would ever want in addition to it.

I wish that all my signals some day some how reach you very soon and you get me out of the time that keeps laughing at me, the darkness that keeps hiding me, the thunder that keeps haunting me, The CURFEW that keeps killing me.

Probably it just wanted me to get to you before the world around me blacked out. Probably your cocoon was the best place to be in before it hit me. Probably I should’ve been home (YOU) on time. Probably……

Your mark all over me and my birth in this universe are co-related.

Curfew locks up all the doors in me , but the one for you will always be open.


Just. Come.