There are matchsticks lit
Behind my reddening eyeballs

The loo of the Indian northern plains
Those hot, dry, dusty gusts
Flow through my nostrils

My throat is a parched, cracked piece of land
Like desert sand,
It drinks and drinks and drinks
But the entire ocean could not quench its thirst—
It absorbs it all
Never wetting, ever dry
Coughing up nothingness

Heavy lids
I want to fall to my knees
Fall asleep
I feel Hypnos embracing
My tired, aching body
But he lets go
Lets go just on the edge

So I'm treading this line
Like the virus, who treads the line
Between living and non-living
I keep swaying on the borderline
Ever uncertain, never stable.

8th April/ (8/30) / Free verse

Versatile Blogger Award

Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets.

If you didn’t understand that reference, I don’t know what to say to you. And if it isn’t blatantly obvious, my exams are over now. By the way, are you guys getting bored of Award posts? Well, then-

tenor gif

Just kidding.

Continue reading

Sleepless nights- A Conversation with my brain

Me: I’ve been trying for almost a couple of hours, but I still can’t sleep. I think I’m in love.

My Brain: Stop kidding yourself, girl. It’s because you slept for four hours in the noon.

Me: I still have five hours of sleep left. Why don’t you stop thinking so much and let me sleep?

My Brain: That’s because you have so much to do. How about we start drafting that apology letter?

Continue reading