Poetry, I realised wasn’t something I could force. There were times, it came to me like a revelation. but mostly I maundered, in search of a word, like a missing puzzle piece. I knew there was a word. That would fit and legitimise, my expression. I knew it existed, somewhere in the hollows of my […]
Its a Thursday morning. People are hurrying like ants. All in motion, trying to get somewhere. Probably their non-desirable nine to fives. Heads buried in flimsy screens, ears plugged. Seeming focused. Ignoring their kind. March rain falls quietly. Seated at last, I notice a child of four beside me. With his mud brown skin, glistening. […]
Its a real tragedy that every prose, every verse has already been written. In some way. Every pain has been felt, every sorrow expressed. It steals our take on originality. and stirs an avalanche of unease.
Stellar deaths, atoms colliding, constellations forming, all happening, right this moment. In my teacup.
A shadow lurks again. Hovering over the rooftops, looking for the previous tenant. Displacing my belongings. Searching for a prey. Its furry and malignant touch, topped with disgust and hunger I let it. I’m calm. I’m not who you’re looking for. Not anymore.