The Turn It Takes


Cafe Ecstasy – Bangalore Trip Recap

Hey bros! I have missed you. I have missed your presence around me. I have missed taking those late night walks with you.

I have missed those pointless arguments. I have missed those logical discussions.

I have missed scolding you for classes. I have missed you scolding me for going to one without you.

I have missed your awkwardness. I have missed your ingeniousness. 

Though I know that we have left our place of rendezvous and living different lives, I’m gonna revive all those days when I see you. 

More to be added. 

Listening to –

From Sharpened Nib Of My Mighty Quill…

Phhhhwwwwhat’s up everyone?

Good to see you all back here. Before I proceed, let me take a moment to wish you all a very happy new year. It’s almost the end of first month. Darn it! I know it’s quite late but pardon me when I say that I have been working on some new stuffs for this blog (along with other pretty amazing things) – Wait till the drum rolls the 2018 style!

It’s been a surreal month as some of my previous Januaries of past years – kickstarting the new year, meeting some new people, meeting my family and of-course lots of work on both professional and personal end. I’m sure you’ll feel this renewed enthusiasm in my upcoming contents.

For the streak must continue, today I have few poems for you guys. These have been written promptly written during the desperate breathing hours of my hectic work. Enjoy!

  1. The One With Words

Scratch, Scribble, Doodle,

Strike, Hash, Shade,

Let your pencil

Scroll on sheet;

Roll on its nib

As it oozes of its tip;

When you move it between your fingers

And put it back to life,

When you drag it through, in yonder,

With all your might to write,

It may put scars on perchy paper,

Inscribe tool that no weaponry can beat,

Don’t mess with so-called hopper,

For my words can emblaze you like shit.

  1. The One With Hidden Desires

How shallow is this ravenous self

That seek attention amidst the celebration;

Holding some secrets, keeping some mysteries,

Playful grin that reappears and stretches,

Reveals a story that’s best kept hidden

Within the comfort of your cushiony arms;

There it lie & pry,

On whatever remains of your shrinking heart.

  1. The One With Winter Feelings

Petrifying wind & freezing water,

Shivering lives and burning carter,

Smoking without cigarretes,

oozing without cuts,

Stammering without inhibitions,

Murmuring without buts;

Loosing your hold ,

On what once was bold;

Bowing before the fury,

seeking the saviour heat;

There lie thou helpless mankind,

Darn your pride which this cold shamelessly beat.

Listen – Almost Onomatopoeia

If you simply close your eyes

And allow yourself to hear

All the sounds that are going around;


Listen to the words,

Listen to the talks,

Listen to the silence

And taps of lonely walk;


Listen to the birds,

Listen to the streams,

Listen to the sound of forming dreams;


Somewhere someone grins and laughs,

Somewhere someone cries and mourns,

Listen to those crackles,

Listen to those screams;


Listen to the buzz of lights,

Listen to the flickering of flames,

Listen to the melody of voice,

Listen these words of advice;


Listen to triumphant of being free,

Listen to the roar of celebration,

Listen to the plead of compulsion,

Listen to the force of commitment;



Listen to the joy of acceptance,

Listen to the pain of rejection,

Listen to the thud of falling down,

Listen to this surreal soaring dawn;


Listen to the burden of defeat,

Listen to the uproar of victory,


Listen my friend – o thou mighty knight!

All you have to do is listen and learn.


Feature image by

Listening to –

Looking For The Silver Lining

Months came and months went by. Here I am, in front of my laptop, on the last day of another ending month hoping to utter out the reasons for the silence I’ve been holding within. Each rising day, I would wish to write about so many things I want to talk to you about but at the end of it when I’m finally in my room, my plans are pushed on the next day’s court.

In the end of this seemingly perpetual fight to drag myself through another uneventful day, I would be left to stare at the blank canvas that would scream to be written on. And once again I would ignore its plea for not the sufficient energy has left within me to replay the story in my head I want to write about, to recall my observations and my learning that I want to share, to unveil the parts of my heart that I want to showcase.

I feel like being comfortably numb. Few days ago I was informed of the training that I have to attend at a faraway place that would have given me my much needed break yet my inner self felt on a disagreement. Here’s a diary entry of mine that I think captures the essence –

The reason I don’t want to go some other place is because of this streak of mundanity that has set in my life. I’m bored. Not frustrated but bored. I have seen busier times. I’ve encountered my horrifically hasty self who didn’t even had the time to catch his breath.

Now I see myself being impervious to this daily ordeal. This buzzing entropy doesn’t seem to disturb my stability. I may act out of necessity but there is no wholesome involvement. And I feel I could channelize this boredom into something beautiful. A strength of creation forming within, which I lay unaware of.

If I disturb this equilibrium, I might loose my edge. A little nudge would set my momentum into a different direction. At this point, I just feel the propensity of this forming fire.

I’m sure it is just a phase and this too shall pass. I promise you it won’t be long before I gather the strength of my senses. I miss not being active on this community. I miss the wonderful dwellers of this blogosphere which I have grown along, over the years.

Till I come up with some consolidated contents to update this post with, here’s something I made a while back for you to enjoy –


Let’s Meet

Let’s meet

Neither your place nor mine;

Let it be unusual,

somewhere pristine;

Where the sun peeks through the window,

And moon shines through the night,

Where Totoro lives next door,

And Alice’s wonderland at the cross;

A willow tree spreads its branches at the peak

And leaves flutter in gentle breeze;

There’s an old hut lit in this silent night

With a flickering lantern, waving dimly bright;

Hurriedly jumping, there might be one rabbit or two,

There may wander other animals of the zoo;

Sometimes they gather around, when the king talks,

Believe me, they’re hopping & wading bunch of crazy folks;

Of course, this is just my speculation of someplace nice;

An animated utopian world, unpurchasable of humanly price;

Yet let’s meet – neither your place nor mine,

Some place unusual, somewhere pristine;

For I know few places quite similar to this

A beautiful arena, nothing short of pure bliss.