You ask me, “How are you” as a pleasantry, not as a question.

The question I answer with only a few syllables.

I say I am fine, but sometimes out of the prettiness of the weather, I might end up saying, I am good.

You never intend to ask, and I never mean to reveal the truth hidden behind the veil of smiles.

With time I have hushed the voices, hidden deep inside my head.

Instead, I have become a silent observer, like you, watching the tides of my emotion.

I am silently learning to burn the fierce fires of my belly.

I am silently befriending, the silence.

Letting my silences do the wonders that my words could not.

Alas! That’s the irony of being human; we need words for everything.

Words for our simple joys,

To our mundane sorrows.

Words to read the intricacy of someone’s heart,

To the conundrum of their mind.

How great it would have been, if we could read each other’s silences.

And if we could, the world would not have existed, as it exists.

Because if we could, you might see that,

It’s the silhouette of darkness, that watches over me.

It’s the soft hand of night breeze that caresses my hair.

The stillness of the moon that holds me in its care.

The chirpiness of the birds which bring me joy,

The glory of the sun that brightens up my day.

It’s the nature that holds me intact, not you.

So, this time, I silently choose, Silence over words, to pierce through your soul.

Three ways

Sitting here, in dark,

I watch you,

Bathing in luminous pale light,

You glow,

With sheer whiteness,

Like a moon.

And I ponder,

The what ifs.

Will this proximity,

blur your innocence,


The purity of your heart,

will snuggle me.

Does my darkness,

Holds the power,

To engulf you.

Or is it other way round,


your light will seep in,

Filling the hollowness of my heart.

Will this,

Crossover jeopardize everything,

Turning your world upside down.

But what if,

The world looks glorious,

Upside down.


How about,

meeting in the middle,

Where your shine,

Sprinkled by my grayness,

As a silvery beauty.

What if,

The dark of my side,

Will open the chain,

Of your phosphorous glow.


Is it that,

Somewhere hidden beneath,

All the layers,

Of our worldly views,

there is us,

In all our nakedness,


Twin bodies,

With just,

one soul.

Building a simple,

Three way street.

Where do the broken hearts go?

The rib-cage holding the hearts
from flying away,
In the shadows of darkness.
where, do you think the broken hearts go?
Dipping in the sorrow,
of the ocean of shed tears,
dissolving the hidden pain.
Where else,
do you think the broken hearts go?
Numbing the emotions,
with sips of moonshine,
they sit on a vacant road.
where, do you think the broken hearts go?
Sitting by the seaside,
looking into the vastness,
filling the holes
with the salty air.
Where else,
do you think the broken hearts go?
Scribbling on the blank pages,
with verses,
that tear apart.
where, do you think the broken hearts go?
Strumming the chords,
the aching heart,
into the world.
Where else,
do you think the broken hearts go?
Sometimes, they stumble,
and meet,
other broken hearts,
It’s here,
the first healing begins.
where, do you think the broken hearts go?

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.


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.

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


#sunrise #hilltop #yourstruly #trees #nature #naturephotography

Auburn lit sky around,
An eternal silence from mankind,
momentarily broken,
by the rustling of the leaves.
Leaves with shades of,
green, yellow and brown,
perching on the tree.
From afar,
a pair of eyes,
watch everything.
Everything that has changed,
my Ame.
Everything that has remained the same,
in my Ame.
Looking into the shadows of the past,
where I was naive,
to the looming life.
My laughter rings in my ear,
and slowly reaches,
towards my eyes,
making them glow,
with the hope,
that all,
is not lost, yet.
Filling me, with a desire,
to grasp the grains,
of my dreams.
A wish,
to find my lost parts,
in the wilderness of nature,
where I fully comprehend,
my Ame.

Toska – noun /ˈtō-skə/ – Russian word roughly translated as sadness, melancholia, lugubriousness.

“No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom. ― Vladimir Nabokov

“Toska is a feeling of inner emptiness, a meaningless of everything around you, the feeling of being lost, physically and spiritually, in both space and time.” — Alexey Kostromin (photographer)

I wish that this Valentine’s we learn the art of loving ourselves a bit more than loving others ❤ Self Love is the most important form of love ❤

Dear Moon

#moon #yourstruly

Lying on my black couch
I peek at your bright face
I see you
Blushing, with love
The love
You are holding
Inside your mighty little heart
For the one you love.
It reminds me of our old days,
Your tapping on my window,
My coming out in the balcony,
To look at your pretty face.
Late nights,
countless talks,
And sharing everything
Under the same sky,
You have been my companion
in my lonely nights,
You still bring the warmth
to my little heart,
but when I see others
proclaiming you
putting your
mesmerizing pictures out
I feel sad,
As none of them,
Share their story,
It is like putting,
Your half heart out for someone.
You can never love,
Anyone, anyone
And if you do,
then I pity you,
Because love means
Giving all of you away,
to that someone.
I wish that the one you love,
Will let the words,
To declare,
Their love,
For You.

The Unusual Bond

#streetphotography #lamppost #tangledwithweeds #yourstruly

I was standing tall,
spreading light,
on the dark streets,
when you smiled at me,
from down below.
A dandelion,
so bright and green,
with the hue of yellow,
in between.
Slithering up to me,
to say a quick hello,
yes, that’s what you said,
but then you never left me,
crawling deep inside me,
engulfing my whole existence.
The seasons came,
your presence changed,
from orangish-red to shades of dark brown.
But you stayed,
even when you knew you were dying,
with me.
Our union was unusual,
one living and other a non-living,
sharing things beyond this realm.
The passerby’s pitied us,
Our friends called us fools,
But that’s how we were,
Two simpletons together,
Unable to untangle themselves,
from the unknown bond.
Believing that,
in another world,
beyond the right and wrongs,
their togetherness holds,
a beautiful meaning.


#streetphotography #dreamcatcher #yourstruly

Dreams, yours and mine,
caught on the streets,
with the feathery fairies web,
holding the bad daemons,
letting the brightness of thoughts,
pass through it,
taking care of the,
sleeping beauty below.