You know healing is not easy. The act of it requires you to stand up, gather yourself piece by piece and take a stride. The weight might affect your walk, but you have to keep trying and fighting. And that is what I am trying to do.

I had forgotten that I had ‘The Artist’s Way’ in my closet. And just yesterday, I discovered it again. I want to really give it a try. I am certain somewhere it will help me understand some things, if not everything. That is also some progress.

I abandon such initiatives a lot. But this time, I really want to give it a try? Do any of you want to give it a shot? Please do let me know in the comments.




2016 was not an easy year. I had to let go of someone really special. He meant the world to me. I don’t care if I have to use cliches to describe our bond. It is just amazing how one person can make you feel so special and so wanted. Our break-up was such that till now this sense of loss had not seeped in. But now it has started to find its way through my insides. In three years, I had charted out our lives for the next thirty years. And now there is a very real and strong possibility that none of this will ever come to life. All of these thoughts will just find some place in my art. 

This year, maybe love for my own self can fill in this void. No secret rendezvous or some fling can match up to the power of those three years. For the first time, I am writing without any concern for the way my craft is flowing. 

Everyday in the morning I resolve that today I will be strong. I won’t see his profile or our chat. But by the day end, all that resolve finds itself in a drain. I gave the last of me to him. How can I really put myself together? My art just reduces the intensity of that pain, but it never really takes it all away from me. 

I try to find him everywhere and I am just restless all the damn time. I just want to be so strong that I am not crippled by this pain, and I can take a big stride ahead, hoping that he will be at the destination. 

To the girl who hides behind ‘I am okay’

I won’t ask you how have you been. I know, no matter how close I am to you, you will still put a curtain around you. I will tell you something. Even that extra coat of gloss won’t make your smile seem longer and fuller. That Kohl you put with such dedication, that won’t help in hiding eyes that have not been sleeping. The forced stride in your steps will not hide the shards that have crushed your heart.

You hold that phone with such a force, hoping that the next response will help you find that missing smile. You listen to ‘Koi Faryaad’ and ‘Tere Bin’ hoping that the tears will find their way out from the vault. But you know what? For now, exist. Don’t live. Hold yourself while the tornado is done ravaging everything around you. It has got its eye on you. It will slam you with sly moves while you put up that fight. Save some of it.

And you know what will help you sail through it? YOU. You are your own army, your own commander, everything. People have battles to pick and fight. They will not be a commander in your fight. They might even try to poach you for their battle because of your wonderful ability of bouncing back after every punch.

You have every weapon you need in your inventory. You don’t need fake assurances from two-faced turds.

I know how much you loved Iqbal particularly your belief that if you watch this movie before every exam, you will fare well. Remember that scene where Naseruddin shah says, “Dimaag aur dil jab ek saath kaam karte hai na … toh farak nahi padta hai ki dimaag kaunsa hai aur dil kaunsa hai.” You have got the two greatest weapons within you, why seek solace from someone who thinks of you as an object.

Dear girl, I could tell you more. But I will leave you with this hoping that you don’t find someone to talk to with an unsettling fervour, and rely on your own devices. You are a miracle of this universe, why be someone’s unnamed exploit?

Love- D

Fragments of You

I thought I was done with you;

I was over with the idea of our ‘toxicity’;

But, I found you;

Fragments of you;

Lurking in the corners of my mails;

Holding on to your tight spot in my favourite song;

The shadow of your fragments at my favourite haunt;

In the light of the new day’s sun;

In the grainy sand particles never visited;

In old and forgotten words;

In stories that never saw the light of the day;

In pictures never taken;

In sunsets never enjoyed;

In sunrises never experienced;

On hills never climbed;

During leaps of faith taken alone;

Maybe you were never there;

Maybe you were;

Maybe it was your idea;

Maybe it was me;

Finding something in nothing.

Of Walls and Distances

We choose the quaint old coffee shop down the street;

Hoping that the faded paint on the walls;

The soft background of Kishore Kumar songs;

The aroma of freshly prepared coffee;

Wafting from the kitchens;

Will re-ignite the old embers of our relationship.

The old world feel has a magic of its own.

We sit across each other;

Arms not folded across;

Yet amidst so many barriers;

We look at each other deeply;

Trying to find the people whom we fell in love with.

You look at me with questions;

Every time you blink,

You silently ask, “When did we lose the plot?”

And I only have one answer;

It is just that I got too comfortable with your absence.

I clasped our memories in a fist;

Fearing that they will get lost;

But the passing time loosened my fist;

And our memories continued to slip;

It was a time of epiphany;

I realised I could love you the best when you are not around;

Our distance built a wall between us;

One brick at a time;

And now we sit in this coffee shop;

Hoping its walls break down our walls.