you make me feel

like your fingers are peeling open my mind

turning it inside out

forcing my nails across a chalkboard

leaving white trails

a warning

a taste

of everything that is to come.



i don’t blame you

i don’t blame you for screaming

i don’t blame you for hurting

for crying

for feeling

i don’t blame you for anything you do

and yet you blame me

for every step you take

like it is my fault i have bruises from your assaults

like it is my fault that you hate me enough to stay

all i want is to go back to when you were in love with me

so in love that you didn’t speak for weeks

at least i didn’t have to wear long sleeves and bandages.


white foam


dark waters

that scream at me

to let them escape into

this fantasy 

of death and denial.

What if…?

I am currently doing a design course and we have this one subject called ‘Integrative Seminar’, where we discuss cities and spaces and their connection with people. It is one of my favourite classes – it is kind of like having a really deep discussion about life and society and the way we function.

We just started a new semester and the book that we are supposed to study this time is titled ‘Invisible Cities’ by Italo Calvino. It is brilliantly written novel that truly reaches out to the depths of your heart.

One of the stories we read ended with this haunting line: Desires are already memories.

So many of us start off with high ambitions, but by the time we reach them, we are too old to be able to enjoy them any more. In fact, we spend our entire lives trying to achieve something we aren’t even sure about. We study hard to get a job, when we get a job we try to get married, when we get married, we go for kids, and when we finally settle for a life we are happy in, God goes kinda like this: ‘It’s time up for you, sweetie!’

It makes me wonder – what is the point of all this?

Is it that there is some sort of afterlife, a heaven that we go to after we die? If so, then at least our struggle means something, however infinitesimal.

But what if there is nothing after we are all dead? What if all this stress we take, all the work we do means absolutely zilch? What if, after death, all that remains is behind is dust and bones? What if death for our body means death for our soul?

We humans have a tendency to search for reasons behind everything that happens. What if there is no reason? What if things happen simply because they happen?

It is a question I don’t particularly enjoy thinking about, and yet there it is in my head everyday. It is a fear that chills me to the core of my heart.

I don’t think that finding a conclusive answer to these questions is possible. We can only have faith in what we believe in. But the question is – how do you believe in something you’re not sure about?




Those who want to check out the work I do at college, please follow the college blog I started a couple of days back:

There are only two assignments put up as of now, but I will update it as and when I finish each project.