Beyond a labyrinth of half-broken rollercoasters

And rusty rides of a park long deserted

Lay my dull heart, numb and unmagnificent.

Forgive me

My trespasses

Dear one

I will never be the one for you. (more…)


He goes through phases

He goes through phases with his hair and his heart.
Sometimes, he likes fur and big goggle glasses
but then, he turns grey and is a mystery all over again.

I tell myself I know him,
but there are nights when
I see dreams of his face but not his name.

It’s difficult to remember it all.
It’s difficult to articulate it all.
So, I bury the memories under sand
somewhere in my mind’s backyard
and walk away. (more…)

Sky full of stars

A short story I wrote about a family, torn by a painful past and an uncertain future…

5 Feet Tall


To Abul Ahmed Firdauz, Varun was just a young boy who did not need to know the past. At seventeen, Varun needed to know nothing but his responsibilities as a son. There was a field to plough, an exam to pass and a mother to care for. The last thing he needed was to foster childish obsessions.

But it was tiring these days. Their arguments were longer and louder. It isn’t very easy when you are fifty five years old, poor and suffering from arthritis. The pain is unbearable sometimes. So, he pulled a chair outside to their front yard and sat down to rest after a long day. Smoking his hand rolled cigarette, he looked up to the sky and sighed heavily.
Insha Allah, this will pass soon enough.

He liked sitting outside every evening, blowing out little rings of white smoke into the dusk that turned to…

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This Summer and That Summer by Sanjeev Sethi

I’ve been reading a book named ‘This Summer and That Summer’ by Sanjeev Sethi and I have been enjoying it greatly. If you’d like to read my review on the book, check it out via this link-


For now, I’m going to share one of my favourite poems from the book.  (more…)

There are many Indias (Five things about the Khasis & Meghalaya)

5 Feet Tall

I’m seventeen and in my lifetime, I have had many people ask me what my nationality is. I am Indian. I grew up in India but many people think I am not Indian. I remember when I was seven and my classmate was sure that I was Chinese because he heard me speak to my parents outside the school gate. And even now, I am taken by surprise because many other Indians do not really know much about my part of the country. I don’t even expect people from other nations to know. I have had so many people ask me, “How can you be Indian? You don’t look Indian.”


For many people, there is a certain picture they have of India. Maybe it’s dirty roads with hectic traffic and runaway cows. It could also be abject poverty, illiteracy and brokenness.It could also a picture of a beautiful and rich culture…

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5 Feet Tall

Today I watched a little boy being bullied. I watched as his tears came rolling down his beautiful brown face, his long eyelashes sticky from all the crying and the colour of his face turning into some shade of pink. But the most painful part for me was that I was numb. I could not say anything. I did not do anything. I watched in silence, cursing the bigger boy in my heart. I don’t know the little boy’s name but in my mind, I named Rohan.

Rohan goes on the same school bus as me. I watch him almost everyday. He’s short, has a huge voice, perhaps the most beautiful eyes ever and an unconventional sense of humour, even though he’s probably just seven or eight. I knew him and I knew the other boy too but I found myself unable to move. I found my lips shivering and my…

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This is not love

Your eyes say things your heart does not know and in your mouth, I see a smile so beautifully crooked that it is now lost as I whisper truth in your ears. There is a life you do not know and I am a song your strings and cymbals can never play.

Your green jacket and yellow monogram, your glasses and mustache, your cash and cards – even your strings and cymbals – say you love me. And I should hold on to you, they say. I should love you back.

But I know the dreams you have been having. I know your fears. I know your truth. (more…)