In the desert
of arid plains,
the vision gets blurred,
with the hailing
Sinking feet,
in the dry sand,
from the oasis.
Eyes of barren land,
looking out,
for a few drops,
of rain.
The parched
seeks its,
in the scorching sun.
Amongst the mosaic,
of dunes,
his bluest ocean.
But for others,
it is just a,


The wolf and the moon

‘The wolves love for the moon has its reasons, what reason, only the wolves heart knew.’

In the silence of the night, it was the wall clock which reminded him of the time. It’s one am now, and from the past one hour, he was busy attending all the birthday calls. But he was still waiting for that one call, and he started rechecking all of his social media accounts. He has unblocked her number, her accounts everywhere in the hope that she will wish him.

You know that feeling when you have everyone around you, your family and best friends except that one person. One person whose smile can make you go weak in your knees, one person who sees you as no one has ever seen you, one person who made your life a brighter place by just being there. And then there you are smiling and laughing, enjoying but yet aching to see that one face, dying to hear that voice one more time. Alas! Life is such that not every birthday wish comes true even if you blow a hundred candles on your 30th birthday. He kept the phone on silent mode and went to sleep.

The morning was holding coldness of the winter, but the warmth of the bright sun was adding sweetness to it. He woke up with few missed calls and a lot of messages on facebook and WhatsApp yet that one message, that one call was missing. He shrugged and laughed at his stupidity. Why was he expecting this miracle? He knew her too well, how stubborn and determined she could turn if she sets her heart to it. And she had set her heart never to bother him again.

He called back a few of his friends while eating yogurt and muesli at breakfast. While he was still eating and talking, he saw unknown number calling. He suddenly cut the call short with his friend. He quickly picked up the new call wishing it to be her. Instead, it was the uber driver calling him to inform that he was waiting in the parking lot. He suddenly picked up his office bag and left the unfinished bowl of the breakfast.

In the cab, he kept thinking about her. Her silly gifts, her midnight birthday wishes and her excitement over his birthday. It’s not that he hadn’t tried forgetting her, but every time he thinks she is fading from his mind, something of her comes back, making all the progress go in drain.

Once he reached office, he switched off his phone and submitted it at the security counter. He was working on a high-security project, and they were not allowed to carry cell phones in work premise. He swiped his card and entered the office, and there were balloons and a birthday card on his desk.
He smiled, and this reminded him of his last birthday, wherewith all of this, there was rose bouquet with a funny note from her. He sighed, the more he tries to run away from her memories, the more she comes closer.

His reverie passed, when one of his colleagues called out his name. People started gathering at his desk and wished him. He promised them a dinner party after office hours. The day passed by quickly. After all, when you are knee-deep in work, time loses its sense. By the time he came out of the office, it was 8 pm, he collected his phone and booked a cab. He told his colleagues that he would join them at the restaurant in an hour. He wanted a few minutes of loneliness, away from the chaos of the world. As he sat, in the cab, he started browsing through his messages, everyone wishing him, his college group calling him names, he chuckled at the bullshit, his friends were still capable of doing.

He browsed some more until he saw that name sitting amongst all, shining like a full moon. His heart skipped a beat, and with shaking hands, he opened the text.

“It’s here again, your special day and in a way mine too. On this special day of yours, I wish an abundance of laughter, happiness, bliss, and love. May your all dreams come true.

For a moment, he forgot to breathe, and when he started, he didn’t know what to do. He re-read it a few times before he realised that this is the way she has always been, not asking but giving, everything of hers to him. And then he knew what he has to do. He asked the cab driver to drop him there only. With a flushed face and broad smile, he dialled her number.

PS: So in continuation to the last fiction story I wrote, here I present the Part 2 , I hope you are not disappointed. For all those who haven’t read the part 1 of the story, please check it here.

Please do share your feedback, it keeps me motivated and helps me to improve as a writer.

Crescent to Full Moon

As darkness engulfs the vacant streets,
I light up myself,
To eat up the delicate shadows,
Of her, fragile body.

She was walking on the pavement, lost in her thoughts, uncared about the drizzle turning into heavy rain. The long wet hair was sticking to her face, and the crocs were squelching on the empty road. A little beam from the nearby lampposts was falling on her left side, and she looked like a crescent moon, awaiting perfection. A deep unsettling feeling has surged inside her. And these fluctuating waves were leading to a simmering pot of fire hidden deep inside her. Why was she feeling so angry? Was it a person or environment, causing her so much trouble. An unpleasant day which started with her losing her black pearl earring in the shower to her nearly getting hit by a car while crossing the road — followed by a stormy discussion with her boss on a new project.

She has given up on people a long time ago, or has she? Was she disguising her expectations from herself? After all, this time did she still believe that people can do things for her, selflessly. Or is just one person from whom her all expectation come rising. But she gave up on him too, a long time ago. And yet here she was feeling broken again because he didn’t reply to her text. She knew he wouldn’t, yet she couldn’t stop her heart from betraying her resolution of never texting him again. How could she, it was his birthday, a date which meant so many things to her. But then it was she who has asked him to leave her alone. She still remembers the night when she cruelly said those words, cutting the last thread of their unnamed relationship. She knew he had blocked her from all the platforms, but she hasn’t done that yet. She didn’t want to close this last gate, what if he wants to talk to her someday and what if when he tries, he couldn’t reach her. Hope against hope of losing or should she say finding herself again in those eyes where the chaos of the world, subsidies. Or maybe she needs to learn the art of walking alone. A tear trickled down her cheek, she smiled wryly and wiped her tear. It’s then she realized her phone was ringing in her raincoat’s pocket. Fumbling she took it out of her pocket. Glistening like a pearl was his name flashing on the screen filled with tiny rain droplets. She looked bemused, and then she smiled, lightning her dim eyes.
Now standing below the lamppost, she was the radiant full moon.

PS: Huhhh… finally after so many unfinished drafts of poems and stories written over last few days, I managed to write this small fiction piece, today. I hope you guys like my attempt. Do share your feedback in comments section.

The Other Side

In the light,
we all shove,
the darkness,
hidden beneath us.
Rays of bright sunshine,
let us forget,
the loneliness
of the moon.
While catching,
the fireflies,
in the jar,
we dismiss their pain.
Enjoying the rains,
from our balcony,
we fail to see,
the drenched ones.
Amongst people,
we ignore,
our sadness,
until the coldness,
of our bed,
hits us.
Looking far away,
at horizon,
we manifest,
union of sky and sea,
While reality says,
their separation,
is for eternity.

A memory for my daddy

Dear Daddy,

On this birthday of yours, I want to unleash one beautiful memory that is part of you and me. I don’t know how much of it you remember now, after all, you have a terrible memory. But somehow as I am growing up in years, my mind wants to hold on to all the precious memories of my past. Unlike other families, we don’t have too many photographs of us. But I have memories that keep me going in difficult times. These memories remind me that I was, I am, and I will always be loved.

So please hold my hand, to walk back into the time when I was so little that you used to carry me in your arms and take me out for the simple pleasures of riding a bike.

The light breeze making my short hair sway, the rustling of our clothes against the wind, and the feeling of flying like a bird. You, me and our weekly Sunday rides, on your black atlas bicycle. The little me sitting in front, on the crossbar and you on the rider’s seat, taking us away from the chaos of the world we inhabited.

The roads awaited us, and we ventured on them as if we both were on a secret mission. The lanes were different each time, but the destination was always the same. The deserted road surrounded by Aravali range with big brickyards on the side, there stood a war memorial. Unbeknownst to many, it was a hidden treasure that you found for our outings. You would sit on one seat, smiling at me, and I would circle the memorial stone reading the names aloud. Sometimes you shared stories about different wars that the soldiers were fighting. You explained to me how the people named on the stone laid their life for the country we all call home. The little mind of mine would not understand everything that you would say, but it realized one thing at that time. The place of our outing is not a regular place, it was as sacred as a holy place.

At other times the two of us would sit in silence, each lost in musings of once mind. The silence taught me that sometimes it’s much more important to feel the same thing rather than having a conversation about it. After all, always talking doesn’t mean we are conversating. In that calmness, I learned to listen to my soul at a young age.

You gave me a precious gift daddy, and here I am merely attempting to preserve the memory of the beautiful experience you gave me. Thank you for the best childhood a child could ever ask for, from a parent.

Happy 64th birthday daddy, I wish good health and blissful days for you, in the years to come.

Your only daughter


Her slow walk alludes,
that she wants to be in disguise,
from the real world.
Wearing a layer,
of invisibility cloak,
preserving herself,
from outwardly tainted injections.
With messy buns,
and subtle colors,
she hides her body,
from the piercing eyes,
of strangers.
A wry smile with long strides,
upholding the deception,
of surging tides.
Sealed lips,
and vacant eyes,
concealing all that’s, inside.
with her surroundings,
she buries,
her inner and outer self,
in the dug well,
of her soul.
until the upheaval,
is what she,


PS: There are days where I like to become invisible to the people around me. I love it if no one notices my presence or absence. I will just be, me. Surviving my struggles with life without being answerable to anyone.

Experiences of Lifetime

The gifts people bestow on you by introducing you to new experiences are the best gifts. Sometimes even they are unaware that they have given a gift of a lifetime to someone. Now that I think of about my choices or my favorite things in retrospect, I feel that not all items are mine, somehow they were given or lent to me to be experienced by others.

I became curious about Harry Potter when I saw my crush in school reading it, I was fascinated by the cover, but more so I was curious what exactly was he reading and when my brother’s friend lent me the series, I was blown over. I moved on from that crush long ago but never from that book.

Then in college, I met H, who is a very close friend of mine, who introduced me to music. Music didn’t mean much to me until he gifted me a CD with a vast collection of great music. Those songs are still my go-to songs.

My best friend M introduced me to great food, and she is that one person with whom I have so many firsts when it comes to food. We have explored so much from high-end restaurants in Canaught Place to the narrow lanes of Old Delhi, which smells like a heaven of food.

Another guy whom I met in a college club while doing my masters introduced me to my favorite author, Orhan Pamuk. Reading Pamuk opened a whole different world for me. Reading became more than just a hobby from then on. I can never thank him enough for this gesture.

And then I met someone who gave me, my favorite movie — the Eternal Sunshine of Spotless Mind. I have professed my love for this movie so many times, but this is one movie that introduced me to the depth of my emotions. I persuaded my brother to watch it, and then we ended up discussing it for hours. I think that is the most extended discussion we ever had about art. Yes, I am in depth of this person for all the experiences.

I have come to realize that people move in and out of your life, and you get used to their presence and absence. And somehow, life goes on. But it’s the experiences they give you that become part of your soul. The soul that’s eternal even if you leave this body of yours. So thank you, everyone, for marking my soul with a great experience.

On last note sharing my favorite quote from the movie, which is taken from the beautiful poem Eloisa to Abelard by Alexander Pope.

“How happy is the blameless vestal’s lot!
The world forgetting, by the world, forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each prayer accepted, and each wish resigned.”

PS: I haven’t included everything here. Today it was just about the small things.

Just, Sometimes

Sometimes this world seems a strange place,
I go round and round in search of things,
Sometimes I find things that I never thought of looking for,
And other times I just keep digging, till my nails are filled with dirt and my clothes are soiled with mud.
Sometimes I think of people who left me,
Sometimes I think of those who stood by me,
Sometimes I feel empty and hollow inside,
Sometimes I feel so fulfilled that I burst up laughing with tears in my eyes.
Sometimes I look around to find a mirror, but everything seems like a mirage,
And I keep running towards it in despair and thirst for finding myself.
Sometimes I lose my essence in the crowd,
Not knowing where I belong.
Sometimes the craving for this belongingness takes me deep down in the well,
Sometimes I know too well that I no longer want to belong anywhere.
Sometimes I suddenly start missing people and places of past,
Sometimes I want to run away from all of it.
Sometimes I care so much that I will go out of my way to help everyone I meet,
Sometimes I turn up so cold that I don’t want to look at other people’s wounds.
Sometimes I am so, me that I wish that someone could know this real me, hidden inside layers and layers of expectations.
Sometimes I am so afar from myself, that I couldn’t see myself from my naked eyes, but this version is more loved.
Sometimes, just sometimes, I wish that someone could hold me for a second when I can no longer hold myself.

Gulmohar Galore

Walking past the vacant road,
in the blaring light,
of the mighty sun,
I see you.
The flames of fire,
painting the world,
scarlet with its galore,
I see you.
in words,
in the strokes,
in the frames,
of mortal beings,
I see you.
Bringing solace,
in the hearts,
of lovers,
I see you.
Giving hope,
to the lost,
giving desire,
to the found,
I see you.
In the arid plains,
you swoon,
like a danseur,
whirling your
green leaves.
I see you.
the zephyr,
whispers in your ear,
to let it go.
I see you.
Letting the,
the deep red petals,
from your heart,
in the laps,
of the barren land.
I see you.
Witnessing the untold stories,
under your shade.
I see you.
When your edges,
turn hues of red,
allowing love,
to seep in,
the vacant souls,
I see you.

Under the Gulmohar shade