Tell me how often do you shatter ?

Tell me how often do you shatter .

If your pillow has soaked more water than your bathing robe. 

If you have questioned your best deeds thinking you were still somewhere wrong. 

If you tried to escape your worse nightmares each time,  everytime. 

If your eyes have tolerated more pain than the knuckles of your fist.

If you sit on the floor and feel like getting swallowed by the earth. 

If you ever,  ever wrote for someone. 

Tell me how often do you shatter? 

I do. Quite a lot. 


Would love to hear from my readers too. Thanking everyone for the support. Almost at 500 followers within a less time , within an hour , when the zero hour for my birthday begins , I shall feel so blessed to continue this journey. All your love and support could have me the best day further.  No better way to a  Turning 20 . Thank You Loves ❤

Maybe I’ll figure out. 

Image courtesy : Some random picture of mine.

I’ve have had this feeling where I’ve felt like a million bucks sometimes, gushing through love and honour to worse than a homeless man in dropping temperature night looking for warmth. 

I’ve had this feeling where it’s all butterflies making you a crown till being trapped by wilds hunting for some meat. 

I’ve seen the injustice, the loss , unacceptance and longing for only to stay quiet.

I don’t know if that’s right. 

I don’t know but maybe I’ll figure out .


A Monday Morning. 

On a random Monday morning like this,  

I woke up to the sound of downpour

When I sat by the window,  

Holding on to few things. 

A hard cold cover on my thighs,

And a vapour mixing with the skies. 

Only and only, 

My Page-Turner that’s never out of sight

and the coffee,  a best friend of every night.

On just a random Monday morning like this,

Was just the beginning of a Heartfelt Romance. 



(Image Courtesy : My beautiful friend,  Manisha.)

I intimidate people with my silence, 

Infuriate them with my insecurities 

Swear them off my care, 

Nauseate them with my fears .

I fold and crush like a tissue ,

But yearn to be refined without any excuse. 

I grow under layers of grimace ,

But hold on to memories for days

I crib,  I cry .

I hurt,  I try .

I  approve some punches to make things right. 

I fail , I’m extreme .

I choke, I scream.

I hate sitting on a floor so dry,

But I swear,  I’d be worth a try. 

To hold my mess together ,

Cause it’s better late than never. 

Thank you for reading  🙂 @quiescentlistener