The Book Thief.

It’s been a long time,
been everywhere,
but that smile still haunts
etched, if a demon.
Feels awry,
talking of demons, as me,
but wasn’t she too? Ominous.
A delightful tale
told by the darkness –
you cant even see,
yet, quite delightful, yes,
for we all lived, yes, me too,
among those bouts of happiness,
those stolen apples,
those fist fights,
and the words, taught, read and written,
we all lived.
You would curse me, Ominous?
“A tale told by Him.”
Expectations, they run scant.
So were her, and believe me,
so were mine.
Forever is a long time,
cursed, I am too.
For she saw them die,
the ones she loved, hated, and despised.
I see them die everyday – hated loved and despised.
Was it not just another story?
just another day?
Just another word,
just another book,
just another town,
just another bomb,
just another life?
I am sorry Liesel.


I wouldn’t know…
But did I ever?

The tickles of the first ray,
the prolonged bath,
to heal,
walking into a, surely, new skin.
The sweat seeping through,
were the pores crying,
or another escape from morbidity?
against the wind, tantalizing.
Running towards, or away,
or under and over;
hitting a dry wall,
gushing the world with pants.
The murmurs of a new day,
steam of a new aroma,
or the old one, on a new day?

As it may, I did.

The riser of the east,
had been south, west,
North, too, if you can believe,
yet he couldn’t remain a riser.

Was it betrayal, he felt?
Or a mere falling sensation?
Or was it absolutely nothing?
It felt though.

I don’t know anymore
for I wake the mid day dinner,
not the first fruit.
My Sunrises have turned
to days when I can sleep.

Care to take a breath?

Was it the drops
from the tallest trees
to the bottomless wells?

Was it the effortless smile,
of a kid, in the arms of his father,
gushing with joy,
unaware of the broken windows and the torn carpet?

Was it in the union of two celestials,
entangled for warmth, care,
feeling their spine
curve and straighten?

Was it in the incessant questions of your mother,
askingif you ate, if you bathed,
if you smile enough,
if you care for yourself, enough?

Where was love?
Was it hidden?
Was it shouting,
screaming, to make a presence felt?
Was it in the wind,
gently brushing your hair,
aromating you with the smell
of fresh mowed lawn,
dawn of the first rain,

Where was Love?

Never found or
never really looked?
Didn’t care or
scared to?

Life was, but a gush of wind,
traveling with your speed,
Would you care to take a breath,
Or die of breathlessness?

Past is, but dead.

A small reminder,
to the parts of your soul,
which clings to the past,
in a forlorn hope,
to seduce your desires,
back to what you had,
to grieve, to deprave,
your happiness for a start,
for a cartel of self-depreciating
Self-intimidating emotions,
that arrived in a package
to break you down
and mishandle your wreckage.
for once, let go,
not for your sake but for the world,
for you owe this magnificence,
a glance, a chance,
to magnify its beauty, in your romance.
for once was it said,
past is, but dead.

Unanswered silence.

I lied down.
The entirety of my weight,
my substance, my existence,
sprawled on the floor –
like a corpse, shot down,
without warning.
Eyes wide open,
staring into nothingness…
I’d say –
again and again and again.
To no one really,
because answers are hard to attain
when your outsides are hollow.
Couldn’t find them inside either,
too full brimming with answers
of questions unasked, forgotten
and asked again.
“Why, though?”, I’d whisper,
as I’d blink, hoping, dearly,
that someone would hear,
in the hollow space,
and answer me
in a whisper, yes.
No noise, please. Answer me,
in a whisper.
Tell me, why?
But the hollowness rang
with silence;
and the wind grazed my skin,
like grass, on a barren land –
under a clear sky.

In search of the deluded.

Was it the drops,
from the tallest trees,
to the bottomless wells?
Was it the effortless smile,
of an infant, in the safe arms,
gushing with joy,
unaware of the broken windows and the torn carpet?
Was it the union of two bodies,
entangled for warmth, care
feeling their spine
curve and unfold in ecstasy?
Was it in the incessant questions,
of your mother,
asking if you have denounced food yet,
if your happiness is yet intact?

Where was love?
Was it deluded?
Was it shouting on your face,
screaming to make its presence realised?

Was it in the wind,
gently brushing your hair,
perfuming you with the smell
of freshly mowed grass,
dawn of the first rain,
and victory?

Where was love?

never found,
or never really looked?

Didn’t care,
or scared to?

Life was, but an unprecedented wind,
traveling with your speed,
Would you care to take a breath,
Or die of breathlessness?




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Secrets to writing a perfect poem for your lover…

We are all but humans. And what do humans desire more than love? So today, You are going to learn to express the love which your lover desires so innately, through a love poem. A poem is always personal. The words you bleed through rhymes and metaphors describe your deepest demons. These demons possess you till you have let them out on a piece of paper with your own blood. Today the demon for us to tackle is love and what we bleed on paper today will be simplified for you.


A love poem is the most romantic gift that could be imparted in this world of fake realities and expensive gifts. The words you put in to describe your words tell what you really feel for your other half, how you treasure them, how you long for them. Through poetry, you express how every fiber of your body builds up your insides for their touch, voice and that smile. And below would be the most intricate details which follow the question – how to create the most beautiful piece of poetry to express love for your partner.

  • Pick up an incident which meant something to both of you. This incident could be the first time you met, the first time you realized you were in love with them, the adventures you have taken together, a day out together where you couldn’t helpDONE21

    wonder this is the best company you have ever had. It eases your words into a formation. And the most important fact,

  • Use simple words, not the time to use a rich vocabulary. This poem is about and everything else that you two stand for, your relationship stands for. Don’t use too many words which are difficult to understand or forces your partner to run to a dictionary. Love is simple and easy and available, make sure your poem is something on the same lines.
  • Choose a reference point and create around it. Think about all those references you share together – Game of Thrones, harry Potter, Bollywood, Hollywood, music, etc. and create a poem around it, using references from those interests which you share. For e.g. you love her like Lady Catelyn loved Ned Stark, or you need him like Arya stark needed vengeance. It’s all up to your imagination.
  • Talk a little bit about your future. Nothing makes your lover happier (especially girls) than assuring them about a future together. So even if you are afraid of commitment, your love story could still be heading towards something, so include that. Talk about how you feel when you are with them and that you would like to feel that in the future as well.
  • Don’t exaggerate. Be honest. Always. There’s no room for error there. It’s a poem written to express your feelings, so be honest with them. Love them exactly the amount you want to, if you are not ready to take the next step, don’t talk about it. If you wish to take it moment by moment, tell them. There’s no better feeling than seeing the truth in somebody’s eyes and words.

With your ammunition ready, shoot. Go write a poem about how magical a ride it has been for the both of you, and don’t forget to share it with me. As apart from being a poet, I am also a hopeless romantic and I love love-stories. Go bleed with words that are true and honest, and enjoy the expression on your lover’s face. Good luck!


source – Google images


Amidst Chaos

Running, steps clattering like hooves,
breathing fast, anxious,
were you running away?
or towards?
Away from the chaos
and towards another?
Or a mere blinding run
towards what you see a source?
Thump, thud and a deep sigh,
dust whirling around your face,
remembering how dark it was,
to even see a few heart across.
Yet, a source you say?
Hope, you call it?
Strong is it?
With a sigh, a faint smile – “Still Alive.”

The Bigger Picture.

Hit hard. Down. fell. broke.
Lost, senses withheld, rugged,
Bleeding with no clogs in sight,
It was finally the end.

For a few moments, it had been so
sans, the light, sans thirst.
Those moments were blinding,
even plunged into nothingness.
The will had risen though,
Risen to the occassion, a call.
And so it had thrown away
The darkness into the light
the light without a cover of width
focusing on the bigger picture.
And was the view overwhelming? Yes.
This was exciting, but uncertain.
This was huge, and me so small,
And the comfort was so amiable,
but courage was not at a loss
and loss wasnt your gameplan.
You had lost the darkness to those
who had never been in the light
and you had finally viewed it
with the respect the Bigger Picture deserved.

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