Sunday, August 14, 2016

Freedom: August 15, 2016

The freedom to love the man I want.
Or a woman perhaps.

The freedom to eat a pie. A pig. 
A cow perhaps.

The freedom to walk unafraid. 

At six. At nine. At two perhaps.

The freedom to raise a child. To have one. 
Or not perhaps.

The freedom to ask a question. To demand. 
To challenge perhaps.

The freedom to have a God. A faith. 
Or not perhaps.

The freedom to shake. To uproot. 
To create anew perhaps.

The freedom to have a life. Make a living. 
To live perhaps.

Happy Independence Day

Saturday, August 6, 2016


A cup of slowly brewed tea. On a weekday.

A newspaper read leisurely. Un-skimmed.

Butter and toast. Savoured. Ungulped. 

A 'go-safely' kiss. Experienced. Un-exchanged

A car driven. Un-raced. 

A piece of work well done. Un-incomplete. 

The bus ride back home. Slow. Un-screeched. 

A lingering conversation. Noiseless. Uncluttered. 

The dinner cooked on a slow flame.Simmered. Un-instant. 

The slow touch of your hand down my back. Assured. Unhurried. 

A slumber well deserved. Deep. Unchecked.  

Random Scribbles On A Random Day

I long to paint my world a bright shade of fuchsia pink, 

Just like my lipcolour,  Maybelline Matte FYI.

I long to laugh so loud that it travels beyond the honk of the city cars and the silence of the empty hearts

I long to be embraced so tight that it chokes my breath and makes me breathe a little deeper

I long to be looked at in a way that makes me want to look back unabashedly unashamed
And still blush a shade or two

I long to be listened to with senses beyond the ears

I long to draw random scribbles on the star-dotted sky without worrying about the patterns

I long to savour every moment I live like a pocketful of forever.