Friday, March 25, 2016

That day

It was the kind of day
when you’d want to
walk alone on a beach
and fill your pockets with
conch shells and pebbles.
And even if you were to
throw them away later,
for a moment you’d feel
knee-high and invincible.
It was the kind of day
when the sea sang
and the sand danced
and the crabs scuttled
and the wind whistled
and the waves broke
on that wondrous beach of
broken toothed smiles.
It was that kind of a day.

Inspired from a photograph by Nasar Husami 

Friday, March 18, 2016


In the darkness
of the skyline
eyes stared at me.
Eyes in which
roamed silhouettes
of struggling lives.
Eyes hunted
and hungry.
Eyes stalking
and starving.
Eyes lethal
and longing.
The eyes of my city,
they light up every night.
Afraid to sleep. 

Sunday, March 06, 2016


I saw them dancing,
with abandon and
without embarrassment,
to a song tainted popular.
I thought to myself,
Oh how silly they are.
And it made me think
how small we are.
Satisfied and pompous
in our small worlds,
looking inwards,
cool and all-knowing.
We build around ourselves
brick by judgmental brick
walls of prejudice.
And not once
does it occur to us
that usually it is those
who are outside of walls
that are called free.