Waiting For You
A phone ringing… a knock on the door… a glance… a gentle, unintentional touch. This is what love sometimes is – so tiny, so invisible, yet strong and overwhelming, perhaps of its being so distant and confusing. Of its never coming. But we keep on waiting and waiting – one more minute, two… a thousand years.
I Have Been Waiting
I wrote this poem in a moment of emotional numbness and exhaustion. In a desperate attempt to recharge my battery, I spoke. I spoke to all the things that can melt away the ice; that can be my July morning in the chilly night of March. I spoke.
Poetry Is Life
Poetry is like bread – it needs flour and yeast. If you want to turn the words into something bigger, more palpable, divine, you need to use a special thing – emotions, real and ocean deep. This is what breathes life in a verse.
Trust Hurts
Trust is something we value, cherish and see as an inseparable part of what we call Good. But trust can hurt, too. Because it makes us hold on to the perfect in an imperfect world.
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