story time.


“i’ll be hoenest. just need some weeed”, begged the cardboard rested along a rusted shopping cart. that one cardboard has been through a lot, you can tell. still a bit wet from last night, the soggy words were starting to fade away. just like their creator, the proud owner of that shopping cart. and inside it rested her life. a sleeping bag. two blankets. change of clothes with dirt and dried grass tagging along for the ride. you could just stand next to the shopping cart and smell the last 17 years of her life.

that’s how strong she was, even though she appeared a fragile herb getting torn to pieces by wind and water at first sight. her closed shivering eyes at night embraced the cocaine blues on her face. the scars so deep that even rain had lost its pride seeping deep in them. and who wouldn’t? let god know even he can’t stop a poetic meltdown of a human body.

lana, they used to call her that. i never heard her saying that. maybe she had moved on from her last element of attachment to others. most probably she didn’t remember it. after all, it had been a while. 17 years since someone last called her by her own name. what was it? she would dream about it, and that night was the same.

a lost name in the streets.

and like every morning, her curiosity was infringed by the eagerness of life built on following so-called destiny of the man. the circus was up and running, and the sun shone shyly on the hopeless and the desperate. the world died every night, but the skeleton always got up in the morning and walked. lana was aware of it all. her favorite phrase was, “been there. done that.” she crawled out of her sleeping bag and kept away the blankets. the only thing she had to deal with was the changing nature of, well, nature. almost nothing else affected her. “hey whore, wake your hoe ass up.” shouted a male doppelgänger from across the street. ” who you calling a hoe you ugly ass son of a pathetic bitch? come here i’ll show you who’s a hoe you motherfucker…get the fuck outta here.” she screamed back, making sure her voice was loud and clear to the tenants of the road from 2 blocks and out.

like i said, almost nothing else affected her. who needs caffeine when you can start your day like that.

untitled.


o nadaan sar utha ke to dekh tu kahan baitha hai,
ye doosron ke andhere ka aaj bhi savera hai,
jis sagar ki khushbu ko tu roz paar krta hai,
uss kashti ki khwahish mein unka din raat guzarta hai,
kabhi mudke to dekh tu kahan baitha hai,
na peechhe koi dikha aur na aage,
tu kal bhi akela tha, aur aaj bhi akela hai.

a dime.


my heavy eyes
rest peacefully on the
air between
and so does the frail
trails of curls.

the twisted tongue
has it sorted out tonight
with a little help from my friends.
there’s only one tune
that would swoon
the dusk into dark.

it won’t be long
before these trained fingers
go to work
yet again, keeping the
soul sane and letting my eyes
smell the Californian rain.

and it’s same every night.

but wait, a slight change is
in the order of our light
tonight.

i just found a dime
in my pocket.

time and space.


is this the only way out?
he teared up and looked up above
i tried to hold back his memories
but they flew away along with his love

don’t worry about losing
i held his face in me and let him be
if it happens it happens
someday it will be you and me

all along this time and space
we will find him through night and day
even when we are six feet under
our love will stand brave, and
forever, stay.