Will never be the same again..

I will never be the same again.

My bones turned to ashes
with the fire you set alight
My body slumped
tasting nothing like the
sweetness of our nights
My eyes, dark and cold
Not turned to coal,
Rather a damp, deep pit you dug inside

I will never be the same again

For when the fire rekindles,
long after the embers of our love burns out.
When the smile from the heart,
reaches the eyes and dazzles
forgetting all pain of our past.
I will think of you as a messiah,
the one who set the flames,
for the phoenix had to be reborn again.

I will never be the same again.
For I wasn’t meant be
the same again..


Song for a rainy day

Just for a little while longer
On a wooden porch
and blue skies above.
I will hum a tune
and think of you..

Just for a little while longer
as the crashing waves
play my base
and the pitter patter
my strings
I will weave some words.
Just so,
I can think of you.

For you see,
the gloomy clouds ain’t far away
and the evening light’s about to fade.
So, that’s all I have.
A little while longer
before this heart forgets,
the remnants of those days..

So, when the lights go out
and the song’s about to end
I will take a pause,
close my eyes and picture you from a better time.
With a smile on my face,
a tear down my cheek.
I will finally let go,
as I think of you..


An ode

Of all the pain this heart has felt.
It is you,
that hurts the most.
My fingers falter.
Words stop at my throat.
An involuntary sensation grips me.

I have a blood clot in my heart, you see.
The blood that rushed for you.


I no more define myself
as a girl with words.
Rather, I now define myself,
as a woman with none.
as I struggle to pen down
this deep anxiety.
This pain unfulfilled.
This insecurity,
of what I used to be
and what I see myself becoming..
I find myself,
looking.. for words.

That were once my only friends.
that understood the turmoil of my heart.
On a lonely night,
with only the moon for company, staring hungrily.
It is words,
that made me look at it, differently.
I saw the light in the dark.
A dream in the nightmares.
I saw truth –
in the lies that the day was made of.

Words, oh words.
They filled me up..

I would go on a romantic rendezvous with it,
Smiling to myself.
Speaking a language
only we understood.
Occasionally, trying to find,
the depth larger than us.
My lips twitching,
at a revelation..

It is no magic,
nor a metaphor for poetry.
For I know it is real.
It was real –
when the world disappeared around us,
and we waltzed through the chattering crowd.
Laughing and crying.
Smiling and wondering.
Just happy enough, to know..
that we had each other..

We always had each other..

As I sit by myself.
Smoking a cigarette,
watching the embers
burn on my lips.
Nostalgia of the once, lonely nights,
fills my heart with gratitude again..

I no more look for words to give me company.
When the moon stares hungrily,
I no more waltz in the crowded streets,
looking for depth in the meaningless chatter.
I no more laugh or cry,
smile or wonder,
under the starry nights.
I no more look for truth,
amidst the lies..

For I am no more,
The girl with words.
Rather a woman
with none..


What is it about you?
What is it about you, sunset?

Every time under your warm shade
A forgotten question goes answered
All that is lost
All that is about to go
Seems so trivial under your might

What is it about you, sunset?
For, you are a poem
A moment of realisation
You come from the endless mumbling thoughts within
From the ultimate abyss of
For, you are a tear
A silent cry
A painful journey.
You are the end
And you are the beginning.

What is it about you, sunset?
For, it has been a while,
since I felt so alive 

What is it about you?
That makes me realise
Of a life less lived
Every time.


I miss you.

The way your tender hands caress me
Comforting that everything will be okay.
When on a dark, gloomy day,
You take in all the fury, the vanity and the insane
The way you calmly shrug at my own disdain
the way you say,
“It doesn’t matter, it never will.
For I love you and I always will.”

“Fat” or “Fit”?

Hi everyone,
My friends. My family. My acquaintances.
I write this post because I love you all and hence feel that I must officially inform you guys that I have PUT ON WEIGHT.

Yes, that horrendous thing that one must never become I have become that. My jeans are a few inches tighter on my hips, my face looks rounder than oval and flesh can be seen in my arms. Hence, I am just using the lingo that everybody seems to  be more comfortable using – and notifying my dear ones that I have become “fat”. And before you make that pitiful face and go on to asking me “Why have I become SO fat!”, I just want you to know that – I don’t care.

I know what it feels like to feel fat. I know what it feels like growing up, with people around you – pointing out that extra weight on your hips, your arms, your waist, your face, your neck – wherever their scrutinising eyes could reach. And making cumulative assessment of your figure, they would go on to give tips about “fixing it”. Exercise. Stop eating junk. Drink lemon water. Then they would gleefully go back to their lives, finally having done something productive with their day – leaving a child, insecure and miserable. So, I know what it feels like to feel fat. And I say, “feel” – because I was never fat. I was healthy and bulky, which is my normal body type and I was made to feel that that was not a good figure. The good figure is one, with no flesh, bones sticking out, toned hands and legs and stomach and hips. So, I grew up convinced that I did not have that ideal figure. My “thunder thighs” definitely did not fall in that category.

But I aimed for it. I exercised day and night. That’s all I thought about. I wanted a perfect figure. I wanted to prove everybody wrong. I wanted to lose all the extra  weight and look super pretty! Eyes would turn for me, I thought. I wanted to walk like  Poo (from K3G) in my college. So, basically I lost a lot of weight.

The funny thing was –

I was close to a flat stomach (yea, that never happened) and my thighs were poles apart – but I always felt fat. Always felt insecure. No matter, how much I starved, how much I did yoga, exercised – I was never thin enough. But here’s the real catch. Now that I have become “Fat” (according to a lot of people in my life) – I don’t feel it. I don’t feel fat.

I feel happy. I feel satisfied. I feel healthy. I eat good food, I sleep well, I work very hard and I know that my job requires me to expend a lot of my energy and my time for it – and I don’t mind. I feel accomplished. Every morning, I wake up with the most wonderful heartbeat throbbing against me – something that I had never experienced before. I feel free. I feel secure. I feel fit. And I feel powerful.

So, I guess I am better off with that extra weight on me.

This post is not an answer to my friends calling me fat. You could call me a buffalo, for all you want. (But I know you would rather call me a hippopotamus) But this is a post, in which I wished to say that being fit is of utmost importance. Happiness, satisfaction, mental peace – comes from being fit. But that insecurity lying deep within us, does not make us fit. It makes us weak, vulnerable and I have seen in many cases, it can even lead to depression.

I  just hope that there will come a time, when kids would not have a scarred childhood because of their weight. I just hope that someday people will understand that everybody has a different body type and to truly care, is to accept them the way they are and see beyond the hallmark of beauty set out there. I just hope that someday, calling somebody fat would not be an insult, but rather just a statement that wouldn’t scream of the society’s fuck up of this “idea of a good figure”.

Till then, lets just understand that – people don’t like being called fat. It brings back the memory of unnecessary insecurity of so many – and that too, for no good reason, but just because you were stupid enough to say it without much thought.

Merry christmas everybody!
To a healthy, lovely life ahead of us.
Santa Claus is also fat. Be like Santa Claus.
Cheers! ❤