I let my life mix with my dreams like two coloured cans of paint; the saffron 🇮🇳 mixed with the red, green and black 🇦🇪 until I didn’t know which was what and I didn’t care, I call you home 🏡Dubai is my hustle and my grind, Bangalore is my victory lap and my celebration. Dubai is my heart, Bangalore you’ll always be the blood that pumps through it. Dubai taught be about being not having, Bangalore showed me how blessed I am. Between Dubai and Bangalore, I learn everyday that my glass is always full and refillable. Dubai and Bangalore you make me grow towards the sky while the sun calls my name and the stars light up my pathway. Home is always here and a missed land ❤️
Beautiful hues of pink and yellow seeping through your pores, you astonish me with shades of gold. Purple and blue slide from the corner of your eyes, watching you at all the right times. Like a glazed fire; you look grand to the high skies. Even if it’s brief for a few moments of glory, only to fall below the horizon down. So far, you can only fly to it and you are so close, you could fly to it.
From all the things I’ve held onto in life, your hands have been my favourite. For they are like a map to places inside of me that I don’t know of. A place where your single whisper sends electrodes to my nervous system and makes my heart beat at 180 per minute telling me my cardiovascular fitness still lacks when you run your fingers on my naked skin. So now I wait for you to leave so I can go back to 40 beats a minute. Now I wait…
See the thing with growing up with a strong 💪🏻 woman presence is that you have to learn to be everything a man should’ve been and still be THE woman. A woman like that is an astonishing thing. A mother who cares even when I had nothing, not even for my stomach. She’ll have more love for me than I could ever stomach. She will magically make the pain disappear but she’s also got a side that you’ll never want to hear. A woman you’ll always hold close and dear… Maa!
I’m trapped under this dome of blue, it holds my gaze while changing into different hues. Upon the brilliant starlight, I found the constellation of Hercules. Kissing the horizon, I’ve laid tracks in my head that will take me anywhere. Anywhere; but I can’t bring myself to take a step. I have unpacked my bag of fears, knowing it’s not worthy of the trip, while the dome of light still holds a grip. The dome cracks as light shines upon the darkest parts of my mind, allowing my cuts to be bandaged by the compassionate and kind. My truth to you will not be of ease for me, but in the end will be my ease for I came to you, my dome of light 💡
In the world of poetry, many poets have flung their words across the canvas and painted why the skies take after violent after dark. Marking their name across walls vibrating a bravura. While I double tap on their poetry reading words that echo through my mind. My pen has become arrogant and refuses to write. Poetry doesn’t come to the snobbish. Why do you pride yourself haughty, what have you written that’s so tidy? I’ve put down my pen for just a little while, so I can breathe a world into me that I can explore by ink. Think. It’s the new sexy! Ink. That’s always been amorous. 🖋📝🔏