Melt me... Like the sun melts snow.
Take so much something and turn it into nothing....
Only we will ever have to know.
If I couldn't tell you.... then, I guess I’ll never be able to let myself speak those words... Because then I’d have to admit that I actually did. Then I’d have to let it hurt that much again. I won't do that anymore.
I never told you that I did. Not with any of the breaths that I shared with you. I had my reasons. I guess you did too.
Fill me full of silence....
It’s just the playground that this loneliness adores. It swings and screams and kicks like a child. It teases and taunts the less fortunate.
Throw me pennies... Throw your penny thoughts into me like a fountain. Listen for the moment when they break the surface. And float down into. Little discs of a dying friendship sinking down into the depths of who I am. Make a wish. Maybe, just maybe it will be granted. Wish upon a star. Or wish upon a broken heart. What’s the difference? They’ve both fallen. They’re both something small and bright that wasn't wanted.

After ages, I set out to clear out my room. And doing that meant pulling my childhood out of my cupboards…
It meant retrieving the paperwork of a lifetime from the clutches of dust and silverfish. It meant renewing my acquaintance with the playthings and possessions of life this far. Medals, certificates, textbooks, old cards, even the occasional letters…
I found the walkie-talkie doll that used to scare the daylights out of my sister when she was a toddler…and which sparked of my writing abilities at the age of 14. I shed a few tears over the little purple and cream pullover I used to wear as a kid, which my mother has kept lovingly over the year… as a memory of my childhood. The maid who was helping me clean the stuff, could not hold back her laughter when along with my pram were also found my feeding bottles and bibs, too assorted, too old, to be of any use….
Yet, I was not really surprised that my parents had stashed them away up there. I find it difficult to give things away too. This morning, I tried to steel myself to throw away one of my std x school uniforms autographed by all my classmates….and couldn’t.
But then old can never be completely erased…..it can only be reworked with the new. Isn’t it what each of us do each new year?…..build for the future on the foundation of the past. A past from which we take some aspects, discard others….
I still remember….crying like a baby….while leaving for Nagpur for the first time to join junior college….Sad – that a chapter so familiar and secure was drawing to a close…Happy – that I was on the threshold of a new aspect of life…

What is it with these people? I mean what is wrong with these guys.

Mom and dad are not at home… have been drinking since 8…the three of us….me and these two jungleez. Though it seems I don’t exist out here…..they are too busy throwing abuses at each other…omigosh! Its almost ten…ask them to go and they again respond with a slurry of expletives. God, I think I can deal with aids better than these barbarics…..hey hey don't get me wrong...ilove them...but sometimes i really feel like putting them on the table and dissecting them to see what's in there.... some decency guys….some civility!!

I feel so restless, in the middle of the night,
that I take refuge within my words to express my feelings, hopes, frustrations, my ups and downs, my fears….
That perhaps I am not coping, understanding's not quite clear.
Of what is needed from me, to help you through this time…




When you told me what was wrong, I wished it were a lie…
Diagnosed with ""cancer"" were the hardest words received….
But what I witnessed that night was harder for me to take in… To see your world come crashing down as you kept on repeating, “why her and not me, the girl who is nice, good, sweet, the one who would honour, forgive and forget
Why her and not me, she is such a delight…. her suffering and pain, her fear and her doubts…Why her and not me, she doesn't deserve pain................why?"
I heard you…. I wanted to cry.
My heart fell to my stomach.
With a snap of a picture I could see your whole life being turned around.
The word cancer had taken over…A look at you threw my heart to the ground…




I know, I will never understand how it feels to stare death and pain
right in the face.... when suddenly, life threatens to slam the door...
Maybe that is the reason why I hopelessly tried to convince you out of this relationship. I knew I was being selfish. But at that moment nothing seemed to matter other than persuading my best friend out of a relationship, which would leave his heart and soul torn at the seams… which would leave his dreams fractured...




Though you manage to be your old self and put up a smile... I know I have hurt you in this process.
But I love you so very much.... No one really knows what kind of bond we share. And even if I told them, they probably wouldn't care. You are precious to me...So no matter what; I’ll stand by you through this roller coaster ride of pain and tears....till the end....

I woke to a heavy rain today.
You passed over me and left your heavy love
where you knew the soil could take its shape,
where I wouldn't wish for anything
and wouldn't ask a thing.
You walked on the tired soil
which was desirous of a form more beautiful
even if only for a few moments more.
When the rain poured over the shutters
and the balcony and the soil,
you'd passed already,
but the form of your love still lay on me,
fragrant
not as sweet as before,
but almost....

I had just begun to believe the world no longer had the power to break my heart and then I saw your face again out of nowhere. Something beautiful that I have lost, your smile and everything we shared, it has all come back to me suddenly and its more real than the sun and it hurts in the way that only dreams and lost things can.

It will be long before I care about someone else...
I won't give my heart away so easily again...
For I know that getting close really hurts.

I hate people.....who were born on the seventeenth of february.

Daylight floods the garden,
climbs the wall and warms the window-box
Flowers blink open, their colour exposed;
sunlight spills over the sill, on to that
faded patch of carpet
moving onwards, ascending the bed,
washing the sheet
Drawn considerately over your face…
A barrier, incase the sun,
like a midwife,
smacks your eyes.