An Awkward Collection Of Poems About Death #3


The thing about loss
Is that it didn’t hit me
When it happened.
I didn’t feel loss.
Not when I got the call.
Not when I attended our last party together
Everyone wearing black.
Her favourite colour.
Not when there were two bodies
and only one person
that last time I saw her.
No, I didn’t feel loss.
I felt everyone else’s loss
And made it my own.
A vacancy inside me
Filled with pain
not of my own doing.
And that made it worse.

It was three days later
I was checking my phone
And I didn’t see her name
Pop up at the crank of dawn.
She wasn’t on my recents
Only recently passed.
The vacancy started to fill up
With the deafening sound of absence.

A week later I was at a book store
I found a book with chapters named
Only in odd numbers.
She was an odd little one.
She would have liked it.
I almost bought the book for her.

Thirty one days later
That movie she wanted to see
Came out.
I went alone.

It’s just one never-ending monotone.
Sometimes you forget she’s gone.
She’s still there, you know.
Writing, eating, breathing.
Am I lying to myself or is time lying to me?
And my ears pick up the monotone again.
A frustration.
Of so much to say
But when you turn the recorder on
You realise you have nothing to record.
Succumb to the monotone.

A year and a half later
I shift to a new city
Unloading the pieces of my life.
I find a stone.
Our hike up the mountain.
When she told me
She’d move mountains for me.
And suddenly I feel selfish.
Because I had not thought of her
For a year.

The vacancy never really gets filled.
The pain just numbs until
You trick yourself into believing
You are as you were.
Without loss.
With nothing to find.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop looking.


Sometimes in my dreams
I see myself
Maybe I see myself as a
Future version.
The person I want to become
Maybe not the person I do become.

I saw myself last night.
Long, thick, silky black hair
Tumbling down
Covering my bosom
I’m wearing white
And there’s sharp bright light
On my face
It’s like a snapshot
A Photo Booth
I look happy
Older, more mature
So much more mature.
And more wise.
My face has shrunk into the holes
Of ageing, my skin taut
My eyes sharp as ever.
My soul ever sharper.
I liked looking at myself like that.

I didn’t look complete.
But I looked wholesome.

Time Machine

I wish I had a time machine
To undo my mistakes in the past.
To work harder and be kinder
And make my friendships last.

I wish I had a time machine
To appreciate the people around me.
To give back the love they gave
And tell them my love is free.

I wish I had a time machine
I would spend more time alone,
Making myself a better person
Talking to my loved ones on the phone.

I wish I had a time machine
So I could meet all my deadlines on time.
Because sometimes if you wait too long
It’s too late to pay the fine.

I wish I had a time machine
To undo the mistakes of my counterpart.
Because I was in love with the feeling.
And our mistakes ripped apart.

I wish I had a time machine
To work more passionately every time.
To be more fearless with the spoken word
To create my own design.

But then I look around me
And I see the people that I have.
If everything I’ve done.
Lead up to this one.
I would never give it up even if I can.

Open With Caution

‘Open with caution’, he warns
You may not like what you see
Thousands before you have feared
The real picture of me.

I open the box with hesitation
Mixed with fear and elation
The creek opens an empty cabinet
Is this his biggest temptation?

‘Ahh, I see you have found it
The mirror of my heavy spirit
The box is empty and so am I
This is what you are to commit.’

I look in his eyes and see
The opposite of his reality
He is so full of life and love
He’s a lock and I’m the key.

My hand on his cheek I say
‘I’m willing to take the risk and stay’.


He is gentle.
He is kind.
He left me
Completely blind.

He promised coffee
On rainy Sundays.
But now I drink
My pain away.

He is stubborn.
He is rash.
He took my heart
And didn’t give it back.

He told me, yes
The day would come.
When all I’ll have left
Would be memories and some.

Random moments
When we were happy.
Those gifts he’d promised
But never give me.

He is safety.
He is strong.
He didn’t mean to
Do me such wrong.

Or at least I think so
I need something
To hold on to.
So I can sleep.

He loved me.
He said he did.
So I hold on to that.
Till the memories dim.

He was loving.
He was afraid.
That I’d write this,
Poem one day.

Smiling on the train

Sometimes I catch myself
Smiling on the train.
Without any reason or rhyme,
Without your name.

My hands over my face
Embarrassed, but happy.
As I think to myself
How much you have impacted me.

And how I retain
Only the best of those
Lessons that you’ve taught me
It just goes to show.

That memories aren’t files
That you can delete or decode.
So I’ll remember you again,
One for the road.


I took your tiny hand
So fragile, soon to expand.
And wondered who would ask for it later?

When the sparkle in your eyes
Would light up the skies
Of other man,
Another caretaker.

“It’s over.”


“I’m in love with someone else. Me.”

Why do people say they have to ‘find’ themselves?

You aren’t lost. You’re just dormant.

Do what you want to do.
By doing what you need to do.

“Stop pulling my cheeks, bhaiya!”

“Why? You always wanted to be a model. Now you’re my modelling clay.”

“Why did you have to leave the little girl behind in Kingston town?”

“She’s not my little girl.”

He looks into the puddle. He throws the ring into it. He watches the ring dissolve into the murky water.

All trace of her will evaporate.

‘How did you know she was the one?’

Rubbing his ring between his fingers he says, ‘When I stopped thinking of what my life would be like without her.’

I’m a Queen.
Of a different world.
All those around me can’t understand
The shine of my gold.

I wish you had never written me anything. I wish you could have said everything, so it would have been lost in the wind.
Then I wouldn’t have to make a choice.
To delete everything.

“I wonder if you would reply if I was someone else.”

He has never felt a real love towards a person, just a person behind a screen.

“Here.” She hands him a necklace with a pendant shaped like the infinity symbol.

“Why?” The sadness in his eyes is permanent.

“It doesn’t mean that I will love you infinitely, I cannot promise you that, but I can promise that in this moment, my love for you is infinite. And nothing, not even time can take this moment away from you. This necklace is to remind you of what we have, even if it becomes what we had.”

She touches his face. He moves away.

Then she picks up her bags and walks out of his life for the last time.

The 10-Week Project

Quick update, I have exams right now and all I can think about is writing. So when I was supposed to be using my brain juices for actually passing my tests, I instead procrastinated until I came up with a really good idea for this blog.

And yes, I know I’ve posted updates like this before, but I guess it’s a just a way to connect with the very little audience that may or may not view this blog. Jk, it’s because I need to tell myself what to do from time to time. But I do love everybody who takes out time to view this blog ❤

So I'm going to start a series of posts, every week, on something I just feel like sharing. And this may not be fiction or poems like I usually do, just little thoughts that pop up in my head. And granted, they all may not be up to my unnaturally high standards of quality, but at least I can get content out on a regular basis.

So starting from the 23rd of September (the last day of my exams), I'm going to be posting little bits of the inner workings of my brain, for the next 10 weeks. Yay.

Just checked, that means that till the end of this year (31st Dec) ,I'll post a 'thought' a week. Ahh, serendipity.

Side note, the little works of fiction that I'm working on will also be uploaded along with weekly thoughts, and most of the pending review works (private posts) will also hopefully come up by the end of this year.

Ok I'm done. Your thoughts on this project will be really appreciated, and if you have any particular topic you would want me to write about, please let me know 🙂

For Barbs.

Just a little higher, she thinks.
The cleavage is not visible enough.
She wonders how many likes she’ll get,
If she can push them a little more up.

Staring at herself on a screen,
She captures her desperation.
To look like ‘them beauty queens’,
This has become her life’s passion.

Do it for the likes, she berates herself,
And so curls her hair and lips.
She removes her blemishes by editing,
But not the scars from within.

Her wardrobe is filled to the brim,
With miniskirts and make up.
She’s developed an anxiety about
Not looking plastic enough.

But she wasn’t like this before,
A quiet but amiable belle.
Then she discovered Instagram,
And rendered her dignity to sell.

She never had many friends,
But the few liked her for her heart.
Now she gets noticed solely,
Because of the paper stuffed in that part.

Oh barbs, I’m a little worried,
You’re changed so dramatically,
In pictures you smile coy and shy.
In life, I see you cry and weep.

Because that girl got more likes,
Or your 24th boyfriend cheated on you.
I had warned you to know his intentions,
Before you deemed his love as true.

You see, the likes from virtuality,
Aren’t an accurate representation.
Of the trueness of friendship,
It’s merely a well crafted delusion.

Barbs, you’re not happy.
It hurts me so see you so.
But if you choose insta-friends over me,
In an instant, I shall go.


If we will die while the night grows dark,
We will both pass away happy.
We will be safe and cozy,
Waiting, just you and me.

I can see the warmth smoking off your skin.
I can feel your sweet smile.
Our shadows become one,
As we watch them intertwine.

Your arms are my secret haven,
And I know you will remember me,
When oblivion and ashes,
Become our stark reality.

But don’t worry, love! And I, you.
I will not regret nor forget.
Even as the flames dance dangerously,
Close to where we rest.

Pull me closer; we are one.
Nor burning hell, nor calming heaven,
Can do us any harm.
Hold me as we watch out life go by,
In flames, for the last time.