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Jul 29, 2012

Take me home, Ma


Take me home, take me home coach.
This is not where I belong,
This is not a cocoon, this is not my nest.
This is a cheap rented room,
Where I’m looked at like a prostitute.

Home, where the silhouettes of the bed, match the lines of my skin.
Where the switches bear my fingerprints,
And sheets smell of me.

Take me to the only place where I’m not orphaned.
Where siblings bully and babies yawn,
Where grandparents wrinkle and a family is born.

This is not home Ma,
The bedsheets are perfect and the windows are shut.
Nobody shares food here, they feed on their egos.

Why do you drag me here Ma, everyday?
I am fatherless here and away from my mother,
Everyone works here on a salary.
Some get jewellery and others get bruises.

This is not a place where there are ice cream wars,
Here, I do not hear mirth, I do not smell tears.
Here, I only feel pain of wounds covered in diamonds
Here, I see dead people.

Take me home Ma.
Where I know you,
Where I know myself,
Where I know my bed.

Jul 17, 2012

Indifference #55wordstory

Note: My first attempt at #55wordstory started by @vivekisms

“You bitch.” He yelled.

With unmoving eyes she exclaimed, “Once a jerk, always a jerk!”

He threw his whiskey glass in rage, “Gah! Slut.”

“Abusive male chauvinistic pig” She stood up, almost matching his height and ego.

He said with contempt, “I hate you.”

“You don’t exist for me” She raised an eyebrow and smirked.

She: 1 He: 0

Jul 2, 2012

Will to Live

She kept wishing on that one star to get the will to live. She din't know it was the soul of the man who has killed himself. #VeryShortStory

Jun 5, 2012

Senses

I only hear when you play music.
Only see when you undress.
I only breathe when I'm near your neck.
Only taste when you feed me.
I only feel when you crush my heart.

Mar 15, 2012

Pumpkin

This one is for King Kong.

She was fragile
He was charming
“I’m leaving.” Said the boy
And the girl cried

The lad returned
He held her hand, this time with a smile
“I belong not to you, now.”
Her cheekbones flushed and eyes glistened with tears

The boy turned into a disturbed gentleman
“Pumpkin” often drunk, he called her
Into a gloomy woman, she grew,
Solely awaiting the 3 a.m. smiles

The man drank some more
Gazed at her pictures even more
Held her fervently and momentarily,
But ignored her frailty

Pumpkin forgot how the man looked,
But reminisced every trace of his lips
She let the others lust her entire being,
And slyly broke his heart

Still charming, the man beckoned
Still fragile, pumpkin fluttered
He rediscovered her psyche
She traced his soul, this time

Cupid cursed them with immortality
So, now they battle...
The bride with her newborn charm,
The groom with his fragility