Things My Mind Wants My Heart To Know

A List Poem that traces the journey of self-discovery, realizations and hopes.

i. ‘I know you are not fragile.’

You don’t budge easily, you don’t let everyone climb inside the walls of your emotions. But sometimes, you’re vulnerable, you’re anxious and you let your guard down.

ii. ‘You love to talk through yourself.’

You love your ‘heart to heart(s)’ too much. You are a sucker for saintly human connections and look for this potential in every person you meet. (Read: Every person you meet doesn’t have it.)

iii. ‘You are a perfectionist’

You believe in the art of effort, in the art of giving your best. Human relationships, assignments,tests, events- you end up giving your everything to make things work and it breaks you a little if there’s even a minute error anywhere.

iv. ‘You let the goodness in people blindside you, sometimes.’

You’re still learning to evaluate the goodness and badness in people equally, you need to work harder. You should learn to acknowledge the badness, instead of overlooking it .You see, too much goodness is always too much badness in the end.

v. ‘I hate it when you fight with me.’

It was awful the last time we went at war; a mind and a heart fighting over the territory of a body full of questions, tears and inactivity. I kept reminding, you kept defying and then we gave up, together.

vi. ‘Sometimes, you have to believe things in order to see them.’

Instead of going round in circles, sit down and consider those possibilities.You might see hidden agendas unravel in front of you. Acceptance is a hard pill to swallow, very bitter , very harsh, but it gives you the peace you deserve. Silence lends the best answers.

vii. ‘I’m sorry.’

I’m sorry for being so naive.I’m sorry for directing the toxicity towards you. I’m sorry for ignoring the dark pits I always knew existed, and for still deciding to find light in them. I’m sorry, for jeopardizing you and for taking seven hundred and thirty days to realize my mistake.

viii. ‘You give so much.’

You have so much love inside of you, it bursts out like confetti and then you throw a party made out of your love. You end up inviting the wrong people sometimes; they draw so much love out of you that you’re left struggling for the last drops of self-love when they leave.
(Read: Stop. Doing. This.)

ix. ‘I know you hate changes.’

You resist changes as if they were repressive economic reforms. You crave for permanency and forevers as if they were chocolates, but you see, chocolates melt too. So every time you try to resist, you end up hurting yourself.
Change is the only constant, and very uncomfortable at first. But, it will dawn on you after seven hundred and thirty hours and you will be so grateful it happened.

x. ‘I love you.’

Multiplied by all the stars in the galaxy. I want you to feel valued, welcomed and content in yourself, by yourself. I want us to set our boundaries so concrete that no one dares to fool around them, carrying maliciousness in a basket, trying to make us feel as if we’re not good enough.
(Read: We are always enough.)

Energy Of The Present

A piece dedicated to the concept-‘Live in the moment’,the process, reasons and conditions!

Sometimes, I wish
the paper could
imprint my thoughts
on its surface
all by itself;
without me having to
gather all that courage,
pick up a pencil
to scribble and squeeze
my existence into
a poem
where it sometimes,
fears to even
breathe and be visible
for the uncertainty of tomorrow
often drapes it in the blanket
of darkness
and divorces it from
the joy of the present.

I think we’re conditioned,
conditioned to crave for permanence,
to believe in forevers,
to seek those happy-endings
but these utopian concepts have
evaded us so many times
that now,
they interfere with our notion of happiness,
make us look like we’re on a lookout for problems
and keep haunting our minds,
at all times of the day.

We’re caught in a web
of ‘what ifs
and we’re forgetting to
watch the tangerine sun rise,
delicate birds twitter,
blue flowers tracing the wind in circles
and how the playful breeze curls
those eyelashes, making us twist
our lips into a smile that
curves at weird angles
and makes us drown
in the energy of the present.

This energy of the present empowers us;
and this explains
why I appreciate my capabilities and my perseverance the most
when I’m buried deep inside work
and why I could write my board exams
as my most productive self
even though I was gathering
my crumbled confidence
from the floor
just the previous night.

So, even though there is
no fixed recipe for happiness,
I guess, living in the present and
loving with a full heart,
should suffice for you
to finish those unfinished poems,
to throw random smiles around
and to work for what you really ,really want.
But, I don’t want this poem
to become another dystopian reality
so I will tell you to keep in mind that-
To Have It All
You Have To Risk It All.

Things They Don’t Know About

The purity of our social interactions is in that there are always some things left unsaid, things that are known yet unknown, things that are there,but still not there. All of these things, can breathe only under the air of ambiguity; their beauty cannot sustain the real and practical world.

A box of emotions,
an undone Christmas ribbon,
a bundle of feelings
held in place
by a rubber-band
are the things
we are
and the things
they don’t know about.

They don’t know about
the cologne you could smell
long after they were gone
and how you, stood there
wishing for their return and departure,

They don’t know about
the dress you saw
on the mannequin,
the other day,
smiled and thought of them,instantly.

They also, don’t know about
the closed books,
postponed assignments,
approaching deadlines,
calls put on hold, and then
cut abruptly.

There are things,like :
the gifts you pick
but never give,
the messages you type
but never send,
the pictures you adore
but never post,
the poems you write
but never read;
there are always things they don’t know about.

It is only the beauty
of secrecy and ambiguity,
the lines between black and white
that let you conceal
your vulnerability
in those smiles and hugs and kisses,
because, there are some things
only you
and even you,
don’t know about.

2 A.M.

We live like ourselves throughout the day but when is it that we feel ourselves the most? There’s this certain energy about 2 A.M. that makes us vulnerable and potent at the same time. This hour is like the lens of the camera, capturing a billion emotions in just 3600 seconds.

When the sky slips a little,
its silver ornaments twitch and shimmer,
sliding closer to
our chamber of secrets.

How a grey-haired man tosses in slumber,
longing for the boy
clad in red
pumped with a radiant smile
beside him, in a photo frame.

There, a mother with bloated eyes
nursing her troubled child
thinking of the golden days,
she, gliding through the forest,
a tropical beauty
‘ the baby must love the Sun too’
desires were passed with genes.

When submissions and
the sips of coffee
soothe your insides
like a serene scenery
but outside
the swish of speeding motors
and squeaking doors
embrace uncertainty and fear.

Talking to oneself,
Realizing mistakes,
we give ourselves
the best lessons
we could ever receive.

An hour that fills you
with wired electricity
brackish water,
you are YOU the most.
2 A.M. is
the most expressive
of all time.



I used to envelope you

with the rosy cheeks you had.

The clock would tick away

the walls blushed.

Nuzzled against me, not even a budge.

Flying away with dragonflies,

the hazy winds would foster you.

Dancing like dandelions

in a fantasy world planted new.

A tale where 

flinging your fairy hair, 

bat kisses the heaven. 

Striding across the worldly road, 

you’ve been a theif once, twice a king. 

Used like your favourite crayon, 

reduced to shavings. 

A concealer hides me easily ;

phone calls are more important. 

White screens with jumbled alphabets 

show you a fancy world 

with sweeter cakes, 

fascinating unicorns. 

A strong adhesive; probably you can’t break. 

Now, the sun shines in the night. 

Dusk and dawn, all the same. 


In the mist of my drowsy dreams, 

there only rests 

a shapeless smile 

on your shaped face.