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Memories

Balconies that have metal grills - I don't how why these structures often remind me of you. The reflections aren't even pleasant. It casts a shade of blue and melancholy over my mind. My thoughts start to wander about you, about us. Is it representative of my own grief about missing you or is it my imagination of the struggles that you have been through. I think of you every time I see these structures, build on cinder blocks and metal and it has me in splits. Were you supposed to be a painful regret or a beautiful memory? What if everything we built together was built on lies? What if the foundation of our dreams were mere lies that you made up? But then I ask myself, could tears be bogus and laughter, could the eyes sparkle in deceit.

Let's Talk

Let's talk. Over the years, if i have realised one thing about people, it is that they are not looking for a solution when they speak to you about their troubles. They only need someone to listen to their pain. Most people when they open up, are expecting you to be a good listener. They don't need your sympathy.
Empathise if you must. Be there for one another. Depression has taken more lives than necessary already. Be there for someone who needs a listener. Be patient and Kind. Empathise.
Trust me. It doesn't feel alright a bit. You start to question your own existence when you are fighting depression. Talk. Find Time. Open up. Give an ear to your friends, family, that random stranger even. Be kind. We all have that one extra minute of time in our lives yo save someone. To brighten someone's life.


Let's talk.
You will wonder,
About what.
How about nothingness,
Void, desolation and fear.

Dreams, poetry and books.
The drunken nights.
Awkward conversations
The tiring hangover
Our adulation with drugs.

About the scary nights
That you covered your face
Under your pillow, crying
Pondering the why's and what's of life.
The loneliness that you felt.

About how you felt,
Uncertain, chaotic and suicidal
Let's talk about the fears.
The thoughts that shatter your nights
The screams that echo in your dreams.

Let's talk.
About those elderly hands
Wandering down your baby thighs
The uneasiness, the sugar coated warning.
Nobody else should know.

The realization of what that meant,
Years later, after you grew up.
The lump in your throat,
The unshed tear in your eyes
The anger that you hide.

How about those days that
You lived within the confines
Of your own closet.
Eluding social contact,
Never seeing the light.

Let's talk.
About that went in your mind.
Society, isolation and stigma.
Words that never came out,
Tears that rolled down.

Let's talk.
About that one horrific train ride
To home.
Where everything would be fine,
Yet seems unfamiliar to you now.


Let's talk.
No. Not immediately.
Take your time.
All of it.
I have abundance of time.

How about we take a long walk,
Or may be go to the corner tea shop
And unshackle our minds,
Thoughts pouring out.
I promise to listen.

Trust me I know how it feels.
Its been my struggle too.
Remember what I promised.
No matter what time of the day,
I'll listen with all my heart.

I have time.
Abundance of it.
For someone else too had time
When I sought them out.
When I cried myself out.
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The Little things in life.

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Nocturnal Beings

About being Nocturnal, the night owls. The story of two conversationalists. I have always been said that at times I talk a little too much than required, and at times I sink into the depth of silence without having a word to say. But when it's 2 AM, and we in our elements, words flow. And I love how it happens and how it only happens with you around. 




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