Category Archives: dream


“This is the hardest.” I say to my side, as I look diagonally to the guy staring straight at me as I ready myself to serve this time. A doubles game currently taking place, our eyes locked to each other. Taking a deep breath, I continued for our team.

Serve, run, smash, distracted.

I lost the point.

“No. This, is the hardest.” He whispered to me as I walk towards the other square. Again, the guy on other side of the net stood diagonally from me, waiting for me to be ready before he swings his racket. His look was similarly intense, focused on the game, focused on me.

He is right. This is harder, not the previous. Not having to force myself to focus on him, locking my target as I prepare myself to play but him looking at me, in the most serious kind of ways. There is no possible way for me to escape his gaze, as if there was no net separating us, as if he is not standing halfway across the court.

I am glad that half the court away, he stood, completely oblivious to this small conversation happening. There is nothing left in me except the feeling of longing and the memories of spontaneity, of fearless decisions and persistent actions.

But the worst is none of the above.

It is the fact that I am easily readable by this guy on my side, no context needed to understand the subject of my sudden comment. As close as we can be, we can never be close enough in the ways that I would have desired.

The one that got away is the on in my present, the one who’s still here next to me, not the guy of my past. Yet, I know for certain that it is my present who will haunt my late night thoughts years from now.

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Farewell to the skill I once had

I have genuinely lost all my writing skills. I think. It happened somewhere between the absence of a need to write essays and the not so inspirational surrounding I have at home.

I am lying.

These are just reasons. It was the same last year during my first summer break and I had still managed to produce one of the longest works I have ever written.

It is me.

I have lost the ability to write with confidence. I have forgotten the emotions that kicks in, forcing my fingers to dance on the plastic keyboard of weirdly arranged letters. I cannot remember what it feels like to have the same 10 fingers vomiting something beautiful.

How do I write something that is close to my heart but not too close that I leave myself bare, like a display in the public spaces of free-entry museums? Yet, I do not want to write something so distant, something I do not feel connected to. That would just mean writing cliches and things you have probably read before.
I have a longing to be original, somewhat special.
But how do I even start to be original when I am clearly not.

I guess it is nice to amuse myself with dreams so high I can’t see them  even with 20/20 vision.

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Let it be

Let our meetings be awkward,
It is not like the familiarity,
Would make any difference,
It is not like I could stop myself,
From stretching a grin like a Cheshire Cat,
When I see you on the streets,
Forgetting for a while,
That you are someone I could only have,
In fictitious 3 am dreams.

Let our fingers brush,
When the deck slides across the table,
And I will force the ends of my smile,
To uncurl itself painfully,
Cursing under my breath,
Because it felt like untainted bliss,
Cursing, as I look at you,
To deceive everyone in the room,
And partly, to deceive myself.

Let this slowly die,
Even if it drags a part of me along,
Even if it takes all the time in the world,
Because I should be revived,
Shiny and new with a few polished cracks,
Ready to be auctioned to needy beings,
As a vintage piece of soul,
Weathered and worn,
With value higher than it ever was before.

Let months pass,
And I will still be across the road,
No longer waiting, no longer thinking,
But I can’t say the same about feeling.


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I have more words in the shallow pits of my brain that could cover for the both of us,
So don’t you worry about leaving me breathless with the curls of sweet promises that escape from your rosy mouth,
Those you give out sparingly to other girls, telling them that this is just another act of chivalry,
I am telling you being courteous does not equate to having strings attached to your fingers
with unrequited hearts on the other end,
While your other hand wraps around the soul who occupies your thoughts and controls the beats of your hollow ticker.


You are not one bit bad,not one drop evil but definitely not all that innocent either,
And I am not saying all this out of hatred for you, do not give yourself too much credit,
You can choose not to change your ways, it would not affect me now anyway,
The blade has swung one too many times and I have been picking up the scabs that you generously gave as an unwanted life lesson.


I don’t mean to diss, or to make you the antagonist of this imagined story,
But I need to say that I was not a fan of what you did, and I am not a fan of you anymore,
Isn’t that what you wanted? So tell me how does it feel to have something you desire,
You should know you are never to blame, I was just an extra in your two player game.


I familiarise myself to you as i fill you in
Replacing the spaces my fantasies occupy
All this while my desires continue to win
I am doing this for you, I once again lie

I am trying to make you mundane
To not put thoughts beyond what is sane
So that you are no longer on that throne
I am telling this is the end of your loan
I will not place you higher than my own

I wish you could read all that I have written
And know that these are all about you
All the words, and the stories
All these thoughts and these dreams I am trying to bury
And no, after all this while I have not grown
Even after moments and months I have known
The cold and the pain still bites through my bone