Wednesday, June 26, 2013


Night is when it hits you, in the silence of the skies
and the waning of the moon 
in the peaceful assumption of the living 
that some have already passed the test. 

I'd rather you'd failed for the name not called out 
in months together
is now rolling under my tongue and searing in pain.
Oh, I wish you had failed. 
Source : GOOGLE images


Sunday, June 23, 2013


Give me the mountains and hills,
all the nooks and crannies between the bushes and the cracks in the stone.
Give me their void, give me their echoes.
Give me that which gives back a hundred if I send across one.
I'll give them my love,
thus not wasted on many supposedly alive.
Let's forget them, shall we?
Instead replenish it all
on the
mountains alive
and the echoes real.

(Originally written on the road-towards Shimla. With minor changes to keep clear of profanity here)