“hang on.”

“hang on”
i said
“to what?”
he asked

“keep going”
i told him
he replied

“you can”
i tried
he didn’t believe

and today,
he said those words
to me
but i didn’t reply

And today
my thoughts overpowered me
i didn’t react
i didn’t care

“hang on”
“keep going”
“you can”
but i couldn’t

nothing to hang onto
nothing to keep going for
i didn’t see another way
I’m sorry it happened

i stopped caring
long ago
but now
i stopped feeling too

text showed up
on a lit screen
never to find a reply,
my fingers were cold.



She was alone,
but not for long.
She tried hiding under the blanket,
but the shadow appeared in the doorway.

She tried to keep quiet,
but a whimper escaped her.
She tried to stay still,
but her body still shivered.

She tried to stop him,
but his hands were unstoppable.
She tried to cover herself,
but he ripped off her clothes.

She tried to say “no”,
but all she let out were tears.
She wanted him to go,
but he forced himself onto her.

She couldn’t bear the pain,
but he wouldn’t stop.
She sobbed and moaned,
but he didn’t care.

She finally pushed him away,
but he didn’t leave just yet.
She saw him pull out his belt,
but didn’t see what came next.

She was bruised and bloody,
he tightened the porous end around his fist.
She shakily pulled the blanket over her naked self,
he walked out of the room, smugly.

She cried softly while dressing herself,
but never let him hear.
She knew her wounds would heal, maybe scar,
but she would never get used to this hurt


I looked at him,
into his eyes.
I rarely ever did,
but I couldn’t control it.
Maybe it was instinct.

I helped him get ready,
I had lovingly picked out
his clothes for the evening,
down to his tie and cuff-links.
Maybe it was instinct.

I watched him gel his hair,
tie his shoelaces,
and pull on his coat
over a crisp, white shirt.
Maybe it was instinct.

I shut the door afterhim,
almost immediately wanting him to return.
A knock on the door
told me he did.
Maybe it was instinct.

He pocketed his phone,
said he forgot something, and with a smile,
hugged me and dropped a kiss on my head,
and then he left.
Maybe it was instinct.

I sat on the edge of my chair,
fidgeted with my clothes.
I got up to do some work,
then sat back down.
Maybe it was instinct.

I picked up my phone,
sent him a message,
“hey honey, come back soon,
I’d love to be by your side today.”
Maybe it was instinct.

Half an hour later,
he called me.
“I’ll be home in a couple of hours,
hang tight, don’t worry.”
Maybe it was instinct.

“Alright, but i don’t know why,
something seems off today.”
Then i knew it.
I heard it, loud and clear.
Maybe it was instinct.

“Maa” he whispered,
as soon as i heard the shot.
He moaned, fell,
And I did too.
Maybe it was instinct.

Then I pictured it,
His beautiful face filled with agony,
his white shirt soaked red.
his life slipping away from him.
Maybe it was instinct.

The day that I once cherished,
Now had a different reason
to be etched in my mind forever,
with me till I died, like him.
Maybe it was instinct.

It was his birthday,
the happiest day of his life,
now the saddest of mine.
He was gone, I was empty.
Maybe it was instinct.


Thousands of mothers lose their children to terrorism, crime and other ruthless murderers. This was a brief story of a boy going out to celebrate his birthday with his friends, but his mother’s instinct warned her that something could go wrong. Like several children who were gunned down by terrorists in restaurants in Indian metropolitan cities like Bangalore and Mumbai IRL, he too was killed at the venue. And all his mother could to was to hear her child’s life slowly slip away from him, breath by breath.

The Moment

She looked at the bathtub,
it was filling up with color.
She peered closer and smiled,
she could smell it too now.

This was the scent,
that would cover them both.
She sat on the edge,
waiting for him.

When he casually strolled in,
she embraced him with a longing.
The water fizzled and shifted as they got in,
never letting go of one another.

Steam rose from the warm water,
and the mirror was too foggy to look into.
But they didn’t need it,
they just needed each other.

The moment was theirs,
sitting there in the tub,
They held each other tight,
while bath-bombs fizzed around them.

She whispered, “always stay here,
never leave me, be mine”.
He kissed her, and then said,
“all yours, forever and always”.


(picture via Pinterest)


Frayed sleeves
of my hoodie,
hanging off
my limp arms.

I’m just staring,
at something marvelous,
and he’s looking
back at me.

And then,
he spoke to me
and his voice
left me mesmerized.

Then he smiled,
and i was blinded
by the brightness
of that million watt beam.

It took me a while
to regain my senses,
so i could appreciate
the wonder in front of me.

I stammered,
and I stumbled,
but I managed a smile
in his direction.

What could i
be expected to do,
I was so helplessly


Tears on her face

hb13rwshe held her wrist tight
her fingers red with blood
spots of red on her shorts
and tears on her face

she held her wrist tight
water in the sink ran red
splotches of red on the tiles
and streaks of tears on her face

she held her wrist tight
and slumped onto the floor
the water now ran clear
like the tears on her face

she held her wrist tight
with a bloody hand
and a bloody towel
unaffected by the tears on her face

she held her wrist tight
when she first got in
the tub was filled with red water
not touching the tears on her face

she wasn’t holding her wrist
when they found her in the red tub
with a broken heart
and dried tears on her face.

Sunshine Blogger Award

Okay, I’ve been nominated for The Sunshine Blogger Award by Agastya, to whom I’m very grateful. He’s a brilliant writer, do check out his blog right here. Someone please remind him of how good his words are, he needs to be told constantly, he’s a bit too modest.

Here are the answers to the questions asked by Agastya

1.What is your favorite memory?

December 19th, sitting backstage at school with my best friend and slowly singing “The Scientist” by Coldplay along with the kids onstage.

2. Would you prefer a day a the beach or a day shopping?

BEACH any day.

3. What’s your favorite song?

At the moment, it’s “Say Something” by A Great Big World and Christina Aguilera

4. What is your favorite literary piece?

I don’t think this even counts, but I absolutely love “The Book Thief” by Markus Zusak.

5. If you could change one thing about your past, what would it be?

A lot of stuff, but changing the how the year 2017 turned out is first on my list.

6. If you got a chance to go anywhere you wanted to, where would you go?

To my best friend’s house so we can be crackpots together

7. Do you prefer the sky or the sea?

The sea. Especially where it meets the sky (I mean horizon)

8. What is your favorite movie?

Hachiko (it’s terribly sad, but incredibly amazing)

9. Cats or dogs?

DOGS. actually both.

10. What’s your favorite cuisine?

PIZZA. take it or leave it.

11. What’s the top of your bucket list?



The Rules:

  1. Thank the person(s) who nominated you
  2. Answer the 11 questions sent by the person who nominated you
  3. Nominate 11 blogs to receive the award and write them 11 questions.

The Nominees:

  1. Assu
  2. Sal
  3. keeping it LITerature
  4. Goma
  5. Jayitha
  6. The Writer’s Blogk
  7. Bent on love
  8. The godly chic diaries
  9. Christopher Farley
  10. chitkaladitosh
  11. Saint’s muse

The Questions:

  1. Love or Wealth?
  2. What’s your favorite post on my blog?
  3. Favorite post on your own blog?
  4. Favorite post on anyone else’s blog?
  5. Would you rather be famous for a day or completely left alone for a day?
  6. Favorite quote?
  7. Do you think guys are better best friends or girls?
  8. Pizza or french fries?
  9. What’s the deepest thing you’ve heard or read or seen?
  10. What’s the saddest song you’ve heard?
  11. What are your thoughts on depression or anxiety?




3:00 a.m.

it’s 3:00 a.m,
we’re fighting over chat.
There’s a movie in the background,
no heed to that.

You’re hurt,
I’m upset.
It’s all gone wrong,
my pillow is wet.

It’s one of those days,
we don’t know what to do.
I’m hoping it’ll work out,
can’t really lose you.

I’ve messed up,
you’re done with me,
But please,don’t give up,
I think it’s meant to be.

not another care in the world,
not another sound to be heard.
don’t worry about us,
there isn’t a third.

Forget those times,
there’s nothing about them.
For now, I know that
I’m losing me a gem.

You’re slowly slipping away,
into the darkness around.
There’s a confidence in you,
bold, newly found.

No, don’t go,
it’s 3:00 a.m.
but you’re the one I think of
even at 3:00 p.m.

“Get lost”,
you say.
But I’m too clingy,
And it’s already day.

It’s gone too far,
I’m ready to give up.
Sitting up in my bed,
I drink some water from my cup.

Suddenly, it’s all good,
we’re both tired,
but everything’s alright,
and now, together we’re wired.


Colors Like Death

Red like the blood
flowing through my veins,
Red like the hoodie
hiding me from the cold.

Orange like the sun
setting behind the trees,
Orange like the pen
scribbling in my notebook.

Yellow like the cup
holding all my pens,
Yellow like the post-its
reminding me to do stuff i won’t.

Green like the marker
lying with its cap open,
Green like the grass
rustling in the wind.

Blue like the sky
turning dark by the minute,
Blue like my hair-tie,
holding no hair at all.

Indigo like the paper cutter
opening and closing in my hand,
Indigo like the empty jar of cream
now filled with little paper cranes.

Violet like the paper crane
longing to leave my desk,
Violet like the roll of tape
sitting unused in the dispenser.

Black like the darkness
waiting for thee,
Black like the death
that’s waiting for me.

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