Poetry, Quill


There are days when I forget how to smile,

the broad daylight seems so vile,

darkness looms as I

touch eat and breathe.

Every atom of my body, seeks silence,

Reluctance permeates the violence,

But then there are also days,

When every hue seems a bit more colourful

my light comes into shape,

Every day seems an escape,

When each and every cell of my body rejoices.

My memory of old days fades.

It comes back again when melancholy approaches.

Am I liberator or a suppressor of my own soul.

I close my eyes as these memories began to unfold.

Poetry, Quill

The Memoir Of Anxiety

Yet again my heart was in disarray.

My hand, my feet, my soul yet again, felt so cold.

A million faces I had seen,

Never so anxious I have ever been.

It feels years have passed since I saw you again.

Every moment choked my breath,

A wicked storm my anxiety had read.

Flustered with doubts my gutted brain, thought to himself,

Is this agony or I am anxious in vain.

Poetry, Quill

A World I Had Known

I often hear war winds calling my name,

My heart beating in rain,

Stopping by the woods to wonder,

Am I insane?

I stumble on tiny pebbles,

Every step makes me tremble,

Spring is not the same

Fear shuts down my brain.

The moon has caught my breath,

I am caught in Barney crest,

To you it might seem a jest.

I feel the rain sparkling my flame,

Coldness spreading to my veins,

Learning to heal past pains.

Stars and daybreak watch in stark silence,

My peace seems to have broken in violence,

Sadness has left me alone,

In a world I thought I had known.

Brevity, Quill


There are days when the sky turns into the brightest tapestry.Days when my heart is full and soul warm. When darkness protects my innocence. Times when every sign of hurt disappear in air. When contentment takes me in her arms as I fall asleep. There will be days when you will find another million reasons to be awake. It is blurry but I saw my grief sitting so far way from me, giving me some more reasons to be alive

Brevity, Quill


After I broke my walls, I looked over my shoulder, doubt was till pecking at me. For the first time I felt faith reaming through my veins. is it a blessing or an awakening. I thought; I would never ever have doubt still exist, but my fear start incinerating. Those ashes will write my testimony to uncertain hardships. Yet every moment passes my heart grows stronger and my mind gets clearer. It has finally passed, I felt the freedom I thought I would never get.

Poetry, Quill

Black Swan

Why was it that I couldn’t be,

Was it my stars,

Or my prophecy?

Had I swayed in my vulnerabilities,

Or do you assume it my fragility?

Did I know to much that wrote my catastrophe..

Yet the sun has not set,

Our destiny is still not met.

I will hold back till I sleep as the black swan.

Brevity, Quill


Distance is not what separate places. It is what tears people apart. An ocean of tears has disturbed the shore of my silent heart. It is not me,but this pain is leaving me in disdain. It is not broken yet, is it not falling apart? Has something got in my soul, or it has been like this from the start.

Quill, Write Ups

Dear Kashmir,

“What is kept in name?” Well in my case it is connection to the paradise on earth, to you. “A millennial that has never seen her homeland” has been my identity for long.
We have a deep relation although we have just met each other twice. And although we live apart I cherish you as an obscure dream.
I hear my parents tell tales about your magnificent past and how they had to leave you behind to start a new life in a new world. What intrigues me is the spark in their eyes when they speak of you. Alas, the cold winds of hatred bruise the beautiful soul you used to be.  The wounds that lie on your heart could never possibly be healed when a mother is left without her son who thought he was fighting for heaven. I might never understand your pain when you are just reduced to deaths, resentment and apathy. Every day you die a thousand painful deaths when you are a mere spectacle of bloodshed that fills the air with a stench of loathsome freedom that you never wanted.

Violated, hurt and yet oblivion you stand there still.

Then there are those who think they are protecting you from clutches but instead tear you down. You are talked of but never really heard. You voice has become the screeching of guns and the wailing of mothers. My love, you are not a land of stone pelters or the rhetoric of manipulative politicians but that of estranged lovers like us.

You are phenomenal and you will overcome the grief and conflicts.

The Dal, Shalimar and Jhelum will sing tales of glory.

Hard times shall pass, clouds of despair will vanish.

We will meet when Sun shines upon us.

Till then this heart wrenching wait will be the testimony of our uncanny love.  

Your estranged lover,

A girl far from home…

Poetry, Quill

Winds Of Change

When I mess up, break down, fall apart.

Winds blowing from a neverland,

Brings tonic to my pains,

A merry to my wounds

Poetry, Quill

A Longing For Bygone

Could you bring back the summer of 2009,

When life was like a deck of cards,

When I could dance like no one is watching at,

When I was the centre of the world,

When I could laugh hysterically at my own failures,

When I would fight with my best friend just to discuss our improbable dreams the next moment,

When the clouds were mighty ,

and cupcakes frostier,

When I was far from reality,

Yet so close to the birds in the sky,

When life was a place of illusions,

Could you lift this heaviness away?

I want to feel the lovely sunshine of December yet again.