Posted in Doodles, Poem

What Does She Seek?

A pretty lady with thoughts gruesome
A heart lady-like but deeds one and all unkind
She looked fear in face-
No act of medallion or an attempt of being brave;
The mere trouble that she craved.
A wish to leave it all behind
Yet a victim of trauma and memory that she cherished and longed to embrace
Each day a new person aids her introspect the vacillating soul
Better or worse- she doesn’t realise upon dusk or dawn.
She’s curious, not lost
She’s not damaged, just hurt
She seeks muse, not love
She’s tired, not afraid
She is heartbroken, not disappointed;
Or is this all she speaks to put herself to sleep each passing night?

Posted in Artwork, Poem

Can I?

Can I tell you a secret,
Even if my lips promised the head to keep mum?
Can I narrate you a story,
Even though I don’t want you to recognise the fiction reeking with reality?
Can I sing you a song,
Even if the music can’t hide the shenanigan beneath the happy lyrics?
Can I look into your eyes,
Even when mine would let you glance through the tears I have been holding back?
Can I say all the promises I make are mere words,
Even if I stay wide awake making the ends meet?
Can I walk you across that one dreaded street,
Even if it ends amidst the unkempt memory lane?
Can I show you all my fears,
Even if I won’t be able to mend you for eternity; followed by those beautiful years?
Can I paint you a picture,
Even if I wish to mask the vision blurry?
Can I write you a letter,
Even when the words fain to lead towards the true expression?
Can I leave a mark,
Even if you wish to flaunt you’ll embrace it hidden?
Can I say the rose on my cheek is newly bought,
Even when your presence does that to me?
Can- I – Can – I – Can; but-
Alas! I better keep that secret.

Posted in Artwork, comic, Doodles, Experience

😎 The Advice I Give Vs The Ones I Follow ðŸ˜­

Oh come on! We have all been there. Telling our friends to buck up while we are in a complete self invited mess ourself. 😉

In Memory Of Ex- boyfriend 💞

Those unicorns and butterflies are now bugs and roaches- to the world, but on the inside don’t we have those sudden pangs of memories to deal with!

They say I am a dreamer… Lalalala

What? We do have our diva moments- several times a day.👑 💅

Ssshhhh…Nothing is impossible is a lie

Whom are we even kidding? Ourselves, off course!

Fierce is the new cute

Only in theory, I assume.

Ain’t we all beautiful?

Except the ever dwindling concept of beauty! 🤷

I got no fears….

…. Just a diversion from occasional whims🙄
Posted in Artwork, Poem

Art Is Hideous And History Is Imperfect

She wanders around places in search of art
Of knowledge, mystery and glimpses of the darker past
She looks and looks-
In the end every piece is a narration of some long afflicted rapport.
Struck by realisations she looks in the mirror
Her soul paving through her eyes-
It tells her one final tiring conclusion;
She can’t mend the broken
And deem things to fall in places; because-
Art is hideous and history is imperfect.

Posted in Artwork, Doodles, Poem

WORDS

Words, if they had a name
I’ll call them agony
For every minute of pain they welcomed.
Words, if they had a name
I’ll call them misery
For every tear a poet could shed.
Words if they could scar
I’ll silently let them mark every inch of my skin-
Beneath and beyond- untill the sadist dies a learned death.
Words- I’ll let them pour
Untill and unless the fear is drenched-
And now has a cure.
Words, I’ll let them bruise
Because violet purple red and blue-
They come with avid hues.
Words, if and only if they had a name-
I’ll call them illusion
Because in the end did we really understand?

Posted in Doodles, Experience, Poem

I Like Winters At My Home

The sun rises early
When my dad forges it upon
I wish to dream a bit more; but-
I like winters at my home.
His fear scattered across the rooms
On roof top sits his little garden
He nurtures the creepers and reckons the roses
He says things that:- I know he’s right
But no, I won’t listen.
I stand pompous and proud
I’ll fall and choose to rise on my own
That is when he looks at the creepers
And glances at the thorns
They say I resemble him-
Two egos too big and strong
But no- My father forgives me each noon.
I like winters at my home-
More cozy and less alone.