Monday, 31 March 2014


What is home to you?
Or you?
Is it the four walls you return to each night?
Or the edge of that cliff where you sit for hours 
watching the sky change its color
Or is it your dreams?
where you get away from the truth of reality
Is it your school?
where you return to every now and then if only to watch
the kids and the commotion
or perhaps the familiarity of the peeling paint of the classroom walls
Is it that old house where you once lived?
The one with teak wood doors, and French windows that went all the way down
or is it the park where you fell and fell again 
only to break into peals of laughter in the next second

Is it the movies you spend hours watching?
The happy or the sappy, the teenage romance and the political drama
Is it the book you picked up from the second hand bookstore?
The one you have read around 18 and a half times since
Is it the song of your favourite band? 
The one which talks of love and hate
Or is the wine you kiss with your lips before you crash into your pillow.
Must be the characters of your favourite tv shows.
The ones who are just like you or ones you want to be like.

Home? Is it your pet, the bundle of joy that leaps at you 
each time you walk through the door  
Or is it your best friend who hugs you tight every time your heart aches
Must be your mother, she listens so intently to everything you share
Or the lover in whose arms time just passes you by
Must be the neighbor next door who lends you his books
and sometimes hears you read them on his perch

Home is squishy happiness, home is the melancholic pain
Home is the outcome of years of comfort 
Or the stranger's pat in the time of need
Home is being immersed in the sea of the world 
and yet staying afloat to find yourself
For me Home, is the sound of your voice,
the husk at the end of the line. 
It is the poetry I begin to write but becomes a letter to you
Home is the warmth of your arms 
that reaches me from miles away
Its the sound of your laughter
Its the smell of your shirt that I sleep in
Its the gasp of air I fight for 
Each time you say "I love you"

Because home is you.

Wednesday, 12 March 2014


Just something I've been thinking about off late; 

You know that last moment. That one day after which you'll never see someone again, even if only from a distance. That person who was probably inconsequential to your life. Or maybe someone who was the center of it, at some point. Your friend from the library you just didn't speak to again. The best friend whose eye you can't meet anymore. The boy with those blue eyes that you'll never forget. And the girl who stood up for you when you forgot your lines on stage. 

In that moment followed by an all consuming urge to go and give them a hug you wish to just let go. Of inhibitions, of the hate and of the misunderstanding. That moment when everything in the past seems like a pointless waste of emotion. Isn't this exactly why most breakups don't happen until the point where they are totally unavoidable? The thought of never. Never again, is scary. You don't want to know what might happen if you just cut the cords, so you stick with it instead of following your sunshine. You don't want to take that chance.

You want to make that move. Make amends because you read those stories about how telling someone you love them is so important, you never know when.

So you go rather awkwardly with a speech in your head and a slow stride walk to them. Scared, of humiliation? That maybe it is just you and not them. But all it takes is 20 seconds of courage. All anything ever takes is 20 seconds of courage.

You make that speech; "You know what? I don't want to be saying 10, 15, 20 years from now. You know my best friend from 12th grade, wonder what she is upto. I want to know."

Goodbyes have a way of bringing people closer.