This fire can burn two ways…


Our emotions are very much like fire. They can either roar with life or flicker down almost to the point of extinguishing.

The anger that bubbles to the surface and becomes evident on our face is like gasoline on a flame. It takes like wild fire, smoke everywhere, sooth clinging to every surface and leaving destruction in its wake. Our words sometimes get the better of us at these points and every control switch that we learned to flick off suddenly switches on and every insecurity and point of hurt comes tumbling out. At times like these we find it difficult to take back our words, in fact it’s impossible to take them back. There they lie on the table naked and exposed – your heart and everything that it stored away for your mind and your mind alone.

It’s okay, though to spout these thoughts because our shoulders learn to breathe and drop their weights at our feet. We learn to let go of many things and instead take large gulps of air after air. Because you feel like all the air in this world will never be enough for your lungs and you cower at the thought of what your confession might entail. Don’t be afraid. It’s okay to unclench your fingers sometimes and just let go, deep down even you knew that this fire was going to cause a major blast that would send your thoughts exploding in every direction.

There are moments that I imagine in my life that might cause forest fires and building fires and city fires that could end up destroying almost everything and I’m watching from the sidelines clenching my throat for air only to cough up a fit due to all the smoke.

It’s okay to speak up, from time to time instead of causing gastronomic destruction. Speak your mind.

Destruction always happens in most painful and impossible-to-fix-ways. Better not to let it get that far otherwise our bodies start feeling foreign and our skin becomes a home we no longer feel safe in. Don’t start to break within yourself. Don’t start to break parts of yourself away. Chipping away pieces is the first clue.

Learn to say no.

She once told me, “You’ll give up your dreams and what you want for someone else, because that’s just the person you are. You care more about others and helping them prosper in their life than about your own. You’ll let them leave without putting up a fight because you know you’d be happier knowing that their doing what makes them happy.”

This fire burns within us all. The passions and dreams and ambitions run in our veins. The dreams make up more percentage of our body than the blood in this heart. And it’s what keeps us going and pushing and careening towards our happiness. Learn to cling to them a little longer but always remember that you have the option to toss them in the fire, watch them burn and then flip to a new page to start again.

There is another kind of fire. The one that moves sensuously, swaying lazily from side to side just waiting for the oxygen to finish so that it can fall into slumber till all that is left is warm ash and rising smoke. Stay away from that fire. Never reach that point where giving up is more appealing and dreams that you see when your eyes are closed are much better than the ones you can accomplish while awake. I swear that fire won’t burn you but its dance will make you an addict till all you can do is watch it sway, captivating you in a trance.

Hypnotism works no better way. Don’t fall prey and everything will be fine. Take that aerosol can and toss it in. I give you permission to watch the flames grind and gyrate before you like bodies swaying in close proximity to music that makes the blood pump in your body and your feet move in unison. Dance a little longer, I dare you.

It Never Should Have Happened.

It never should have happened. None of it should have happened.

The agreement. The meeting. The contract.

They should have never met. She should have never interfered. We should have never tried to change the course of life.

What was to take place, had to take place. The fact that we even knew our future was a crime on its own. But then we had to go about and change it as well. It not only lead to the death of us but to the death of all.

How could such a monstrosity have been created? Why must man try to find answers? Why must he try to challenge everything? Why must he make sure that life is his to control and his to make?

When they came to shut us down, it was like the world shook beneath us. A strange sort of frenzy entered my body. My eyes searched for loop holes. For gaps. For anything that could save my life. But I knew. Because I was a part of this. Because I was among the creators I would not be spared. They were just a few steps away from us. Only a thin piece of wood separating us. One I was sure would fall to its doom when it made contact with their burly bodies.

What I didn’t expect was for him to hand me everything. Everything. I thought he was going to leave. That his eyes had found a way out that mine did not notice. I think he saw the fear in my eyes to which he put his finger to his lips and pushed me to the back of the room. When my body made contact with the cold metal, I knew. I tried to make it back to him. But it was too late.

He had already pushed the button. And then I could see him no more.

Sun and Moon

Sun Moon Stars

“I want my life to be like the sun and the moon,”
She whispered

Wake at dawn
Overlooking the expanse of the world
Solis will wipe the sleep from their eyes
Turn water to gold, every fool’s dream
And bathe the living in warmth

“I’m dying down
only to be born again,”

Serenity will glow from above
Everything the light touches is ours
and Luna will guide you home
Let it dress you in sheets of silver
Kissing slumber into your eyes

“I will be your sun and I will be your moon.”


“We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall.” — Louise Erdrich, Tracks


Pulling apart petals

Gently at first

Until handfuls are no longer enough

To mask the pain

From thorns

Pressed away

To preserve

For eternities to come

Until the meanings

Disintegrate upon the slightest touch

Leaving a sole illusion

Dandelion Season


A broken friendship is the worst because all you’re left with are memories that play in constant replay in your head. And you can’t stop yourself from dissecting the very scene where everything went wrong and why exactly you allowed for it to steer in that direction.

My mother has a ritual of sorts, right before she travels she makes it a point to call up close family and friends to apologize. I never asked her why she does it but for some reason I’ve silently accepted it and understood the meaning behind it. It’s unspoken but so right.

Words, I’ve often found come in abundance when written down but stop in flow when you want to voice them out to someone. Somewhere along the way I think the heart and the mind battle it out regarding what to say and you’re left fidgeting wondering the ‘just right’ words.

My heart is a vessel of words unspoken that I wish I had said but never found the courage to. It’s when you sat right in front of me and my mouth opened but nothing came out. It’s when my mind made sense of what to say and just took too long deciding until it was too late. It’s when I wanted to press the call button so bad but I feared the awkward silence and having nothing to fill the void. It’s when I cried myself to sleep and never explained my tears. It’s when I wanted to make peace between you and her, but somehow feared the outcomes and repercussions.

Do you know who’s become my best friend over the years of compiling unspoken words? ‘What If.’

“And only when that happens do you realise just how much silence there really is. Silence between lovers, when something really needs to be said; silence from a parent when a child needs some word more than anything else in the world; silences and in betweens and everything which isn’t an answer.”
Michael Marshall Smith, Spares

I’m calling it ‘dandelion season’. There, I said it. It’s easier to wish upon a dandelion and let the wind carry it away rather than make it come true ourselves. I know the fear makes me shake and I know it makes you shake. I know that the superficial layer is comfortable but it’s like a duvet that doesn’t do its job and leaves you cold and miserable throughout the winter night.

We pick dandelions and consider them our anchor. Every time we have difficulty saying something, we blow one away till the seeds are no longer visible and we can sigh with relief knowing that we’ve wished and that’s all we could have ever done in the first place.


Human Stories

walmart man

My body has grown accustomed to the harsh surface of the wall and the concrete, almost like it’s become a part of it. I can’t remember the first time that I sat and just watched. And I don’t remember what triggered it but just like that I was in my best suit, on the ground watching life pass me by.

The next time I decided that maybe something more comfortable would be preferable for my surroundings. I took my morning coffee with me and watched in amusement the hustle and bustle of everyone around me. Hurrying in high heels, trying to get a cab, spilling coffee all over the sidewalk and just looking plain frantic. And there I sat sipping my coffee.

The day after that it was scorching hot and I decided to make do without a shirt. The sun beat down on me and sweat trickled down my back. This is why I opted for something colder to drink – lemonade. This time I spread out my legs on the sidewalk and watched at the people trying to avoid them and just like that they became circus clowns moving about and hopping from place to place.

Days turned into weeks and I found my mornings more enjoyable just watching other people live their lives.


Credit: Tumblr

My skin is being peeled off my body and not in the sun-burnt kind of way.

Its sharp and every contact is excruciatingly painful.

This is why I will my eyes to open.

It takes them time to adjust.

Too bright. Too hot.


And then I know.

The cause of my misery.

I try my best to shield and swat.

But those damn birds are insistent.

And that is when I notice my surroundings.

Just like that I’m afraid to ask, “Where the hell am I?”

A dozen thoughts race through my head that make it spin.

I pinch my raw skin just to see if it were a dream but nothing changes.

Nowhere in sight do I see any semblance of life.

The sweat trickles down every part of my body and the saltiness too feels foreign. I try to rationalize and retrace my steps but just like that I have no steps to trace. No indication of a past life.

This place of scorching heat where every step felt like walking in a furnace. Where the wind did a poor job in cooling the air around and instead blew angry, hot gusts of dust in the face. This place so barren that no life could ever withstand it.


The birds are circling above me waiting for the moment that I fall and faint. Thanks for the vote of confidence.

I start considering the many possibilities. Could this be some kind of joke? Albeit it lacked any sense of humor. Revenge? But I couldn’t recall any enemies. Hell, I couldn’t recall anything. Reality TV? Get a kick out of watching other people suffer.

It’s not too long before the tears start falling and I’m a hysterical mess. Yeah, don’t put me in such situations. I fall to my knees and beat the ground in frustration.

Stop crying.

You need to preserve every ounce of water.

And just like that I stop.

Get up.


My body has a mind of its own.



Watch the clouds cry out

Cold drops of magic

Onto my skin

Trickling down

The length of my body

As I shiver

Under my wet clothes

And adjust myself

To the warmth

In the air around me

Feeding off the energy

Of everything about me

And I watch them

Come alive

Under the fresh rain

Sprout buds of hope

Bloom into a kaleidoscope

Of colours

And when the clouds


All that remains

Is a glint

Reminding us

Of the beauty

That comes with washing away

Our impurities

And embracing ourselves


I Forgive You…


Dear Me,

I forgive you. For what it’s worth.

I forgive you for hiding behind written words. Because that is the only place where you can be honest. About yourself and everyone else. Fearing the power they hold.

I forgive you for making the wrong choices and leaping before looking. I forgive you for hurting those around with unintentional unkind words. I forgive you.

I forgive you for looking the other way. And for not letting your voice be heard. I forgive you for being insensitive and hiding behind a façade.

I forgive you for closing of your heart. And taking cautionary steps towards friendships. I forgive you for keeping it all in when there was so much to be said.

Tomorrow, I’ll forgive you some more.

I will forgive you for the wrong decisions. So, that you can learn and think a hundred times before making them again. Only you will make them again. And I will forgive you again.

I will forgive you for tearing off the heart on your sleeve and shoving it in your freezer. Preserving it for a warm day. When in reality, you need it now more than ever. I will forgive the tinge of red that colours your cheeks when you become shy and cower in your cocoon. Keeping everyone at arm’s length. ‘Beware of the girl who is too scared to open up.’

I will forgive you for always wanting to run away. Because it seems easier.

I will forgive you.

Love, Me