This town

When the day collapses into a million broken glasses just to reflect the last remaining sun, this empty town calls its strangers to the streets and fills them with noises and shuddering delights. For this place is lonely. The calm wind has left it a long time ago. The memory has now given way to … Continue reading This town

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Poem Recitation (The promise)

  Cold winter breeze over a sleepy oak forest. The promise of a kiss, a ritual before the long sleep. Her cold breath, whispering, warm melodies of her world. His jaded eyes waiting, for the silence; in memories of her words. The leaves now yellow, the sky turned gray and still. For his love will soon … Continue reading Poem Recitation (The promise)

Contemplate

Some late summer evening, the warm wind bathed in this half-burnt pine forest will reach to your window. I hope the smell will take you back to the time when our intentions were frivolous, and we took pride in burning our love the moment we sneaked into each other's mind. We were flying loose then. … Continue reading Contemplate

Broken hands

Don't you believe, we are stuck in this room. You have a red box at the corner, and I have a blue one on the other side. We meet once in a while, to talk about our sorrowful lives and shames, in disguise. Our hands, worn out wrists too brittle now even our eyes don't meet. What have … Continue reading Broken hands

Pricetag

In this world, which puts a price on all of us, nothing here comes for free. So remove your mask of objectivity, come here and bargain with me. I might take you for a million, or more, if in this you believe. You took all this time to choose your worth; what if I then, … Continue reading Pricetag

The lamppost

(Sketch: The secret by Deepak Rawat) It's nice to see you again, How's your life been? You remember this lamppost and our promise!! God, how foolish we had been. I guess the stars have changed!! I don't see them smirking, like the way they used to do. Maybe this road too has forgotten us; since we didn't meet, like … Continue reading The lamppost

Her quivering lips

Her quivering lips and a still summer afternoon; His fingertips, and her mind full of doubts. Her questioning eyes, searching, for some secrets in his half-lit world; His intentions, now teetering, like smoke rising in the dark. Her hair, a bit tangled, in the memories of their careless past; Though his fingers, unraveling them, for this moment which … Continue reading Her quivering lips