Memory Slot

The people who you want to last forever, doesn’t last longer than a few sunsets, do they?

The people who you think won’t last forever, last longer than an Earth’s revolution, they do.

Then why do the ones who leave matter more than the ones who stay?

Then why do the memories of the past matter more than the memories you can make?

Then why does it become so difficult to understand simple things and spend an awful lot of time just knowing who is right and who is not?

Who will stay and who will stay just in the memory slot?


Today Or Not

I look at the clock, it says six minutes past 1PM.

I look at the clock again, assuming it to be 01:35 PM, but in reality, it’s quarter past 2 and I’m wondering where did more than half of my Sunday went away!

Although it is just the 10th of December today I feel ots almost the end of the month and I have no memory of the days in between.

Time is becoming a thing of fiction today.

Oh, it was today that this all happened or was it not?


I fought the fights hard and fair,

Breaking a knuckle someday,

A little of my heart somewhere,

Broken are the pieces of my hands,

Don’t stare,

At my broken heart or the eyes which glare,

Of the fights and wars I’ve fought,

Till the day, distraught.


I used to like the way the air essenced when you were around.

From morning till the late evening, the essence just wouldn’t go.

And I recognized your arrival moments before you actually came because the air had brought you to me already.

Then, I started to feel suffocated breathing the essence I once loved.

It made me feel nauseated, choking and sick to the pit of my stomach.

I felt so bad that I stopped breathing when you were around me.

Today, again, after ages of breathing in the lovely, choking essence, I found it right by my side the whole day.

Wherever I went, wherever I sat, wherever I tried to run away from it, it followed me like a shadow.

I turned around numerous times to check if you were around, but I couldn’t find you, nor did you come.

I felt as if you’re right beside me, invisible though, yet somehow there.


She stand by the basin mirror,

Looking at my morning face;

Small, bare, wheat-ish toned.

The veins on the side of my forehead,

Glow with the sun’s light,

Magnifying the swollen brown eyes.

She thinks twice, then thrice,

To come up with an excuse for the swelling,

“Oh, I couldn’t sleep properly.”

“I’ve put a thicker liner, that’s why they’re looking like that.”

“Oh, I actually overslept.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. It happens sometimes.”

All lies.

Because, who would believe her when she would say,

She wasn’t feeling entirely great and letting all the stuffed feelings out was the only way to feel lighter, better and be ready for another battle?

So, instead of giving any reason to anyone,

She steps back to go to collapse in her bed and avoid the world for another few hours.


I just want a secluded island where I can go after the day ends.

An island with a beautiful coral coastline, magnificent fishes swimming in the sea blue water, mind-blowing sunsets and occasional whale or dolphins jumping above the water to check on me.

An island with white sand beaches with hammocks tied to the coconut trees and beach houses having the sea waves come in the yard.

An island with white puffy clouds filled in the sky during the day and bright, starry skies during the night. The cool sea breeze humming the whole night would rock me to sleep and make me never leave the place ever again.

Synchrony or not?

Have you ever met a person and then saw a similar looking, younger version of them on the television and thought, well, damn!

Will you call this event as synchrony or just a mere occurrence of two different events which your overthinking brain is trying to combine?

Does something like synchrony or coincidences exist even?