facade.jpgLet not the cloak fool,
that I am naked,
or my girth prove,
I don’t need be fed.

Let not my smile,
betray my frown.
A pauper awhile,
with my crown.

A victor I might be,
but I have lost.
Things that come free
come at greater cost.

In silent mayhem,
lies violent harmony.
And for all that I am
it is still not me.

A seeker of truth,
now content with lies
In sanguine youth
an early demise.


Short Story 2 :The Deal

Thank You Ramta Jogi!

ramta jogi

Sometimes fate and happiness come together, holding hands. The decision of which one to go for , is on you.

On the same lines comes the second short story : The Deal written by a writer Anant Pillai.

Hope you like it.

It was a cold day on 23rd of December 2015. The atmosphere and the song coupled with the view outside his room filled a sense of euphoria and languish in him. Karthik feigned playing the guitar for the entire length of the song. He looked at the mountains visible from his windows and pretended they were his audience and that whatever he played would echo back to him like how sometimes people at concerts do. When Coldplay’s “fix you” was over, the next song that started playing was Carlos Santana’s “Europa”. Halfway through this song whatever euphoria was left had vanished. Karthik almost fell out of his window…

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Whims and worth

Then I wandered looking,
for unattainable wealth.
After losing everything,
I drank to my health.
Then I wandered,
To capture sun, to trap rain,
To control wind as it passes
my filthy stinking mane.
And I want to make music,
with the sound of thunder.
I want to silence storms,
and for the tides to surrender.
And I want the wild fire,
to burn my carcass.
May be I’ll just bury it and
feed it to the trees around us.
And then let me see,
what fruit they bear.
Do they taste just as sweet
fed off the skin I wear?


In that one furtive glance,
You and I gaze at once.
A possibility of this,
unearthly chance,
Hoping the end of this
gaze never comes,

The randomness of it all,
The ethereal nature of this joy
The maddening, hypnotizing,
Oceanic gaze, resonating a call,
The magnetic pull of them
Devilish eyes, sultry and sly.

Finally I fall on my knees,
I muster all the control that I can.
Her moving is a gust of wind,
So strong, it uproots trees!
And she beckons a prayer
from this flagrant ungodly man.


Someday these words’d be but ash,
The papers may burn
My screams will not,
Fate you ruthless despot,
You have nothing to break me with,
I already have the cracks on me
And choose to let them be.
From you I take this bequest,
Till my last dejected breath is gone.
I shall laugh as I leave this body,
And laugh at you still,
If I keep breathing on!


I am not the wounds,
left by shallow words unkind.
I am that survivor
those shadows left behind.

I cannot be a sum of,
those irrelevant prophecies.
The only purpose of moon and stars,
to reveal the night’s fallacies.

To lay a path for the stranded,
to give way for the brush strokes,
to have their own image branded,
on a poet’s canvas: words flow.

I am the sum of ,
smiling faces and morning dew,
of happy songs you sing along,
and of sunset’s orange hue.

I take the long road home,
I revel in the city’s view,
Bask in the glorious sun,
and dance in the rainfall too.


If you’ve seen the impact,
of the shattering of crystal;
How easy it is to extract,
the life out of a beetle;

If you’ve seen the bubbles,
in the calm confines of bath,
where you forget your troubles,
of your godforsaken path;

How fragile the bubbles burst,
how quick the turns of fate,
begs to ask, how quick,
your promise can disintegrate.

If you’ve seen the time,
it takes a shooting star,
to pass before your eye,
that quick, it falls apart!


They know not of
Your infinite presence,
Of your wind like breath,
Of your effervescence.

They know the beautiful shell,
That you reside in,
But I’ve looked beneath the chrysalis,
Of the the infinity within.

They have only seen,
Your beautiful eyes sing,
But I know the storms,
The tides your eyes can bring!

The everlasting bout

May be one day we’ll fight,
We’ll bicker over who’s right,
But today I just want you,
For these moments will be few.

May be we’ll notice our contrast,
I hope we don’t grow out of love fast,
But today your beautiful eyes,
Hold my image, oh! The butterflies!

May be we’ll end our days,
Without words, just silent gaze,
But today, at each other we laugh;
With each other, my better half.

May be we’ll decide to sever,
This lovely sacred tie forever,
But today we are bound,
And I always want you around.

Or may be we’re stubborn,
Together in this fire we burn,
I hope we never grow out,
Of this love, this everlasting bout!


A mess here, some dirt there,
I live in this filth,
In this filth, I’m there somewhere,

I’d heard, about this disease,
They call it despair,
Creeps in from crevices,
Settles in the crease

Of my divided, broken attention,
Dirtying my vision,
As if I had the courage to see,
All I saw was my delusion,
And my muddy intention.

And when I heard about the storm
In all its infamy,
About what despairs they bring,
I am unafraid of its tyranny,
Heart’s filled with it anyway,

And so I stood,
Somewhere in the mess I was,
Waiting for it to end,
Convinced there was nothing to mend
Rained like final orders from the cross,

The waters filled me up,
From all the crevices,
Battling the crease,
Of my divided, broken attention,

Clearing my vision,
Floating me away from the mess,
To the zion of my thoughts,
Taking me from what made me less,
Making me rise, and rechristen.

I don’t question, its not my place,
I don’t feel filthy, I see despair fall,
In the water, I see my face,
So that’s what peace feels like,
Storms are necessary after all.