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Ek Shaam
Ek shaam aaunga tumhaare ghar pe… The beginning of this year I wrote a few lines about our journey to Florence. The first later. A fever dream. Somewhere around that time, I murmured her a few shayaris every night. And one night on a full moon, I stumbled upon this specific one. Tumhaare haath mein
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Forever
Dear Luvhon, I love you. It’s been a year now. I for all my willpower cannot fathom how fast this year went. It feels like we were just going on pizza dates, watching fireworks, sharing blankets in the blistering cold, well, it’s how a year works I guess, it’s fucking cold again. I love you, because you jumped. You jumped into the brutal void of experiencing me. I love you because you were brave. You had
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Bug
There is this millennia old analogy usually drawn only by old romanticists. The analogy of bugs. Let me explain. It goes — when I’m dead, and buried deep under ground, what will the bugs eating my brain experience? When I’m buried dead 10 feet underground and the bugs are eating my brain, they will get
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Immortal
Most of my days are filled with reading. I tend to pick up books around the house, letting go of any order, any goal, or a page count I’m willing to accomplish. I always did the same as a child. I would go to a friend’s house, ask his older siblings for any of their
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Empty Pt.2
I read a lot today. Something caught my eye, and I began thinking about it. The human hand has 27 bones. I looked at my hand and smirked, strangely. The human hand has 27 bones, and each of mine misses each of yours. It’s such a simple yet beautiful feeling. Your hand is mine. When