As the storm passed, and fog disappeared
The city framed into its zones and boroughs
Shimmered brighter than ever
Under a livid sky, all the red bricks
Appear alike to an alien eye
A row of Indian shops open their rainbow neon hearts late in the afternoon
Shutting their fluorescent teeth right before sending off its secrets with the second last train
Billboards allowed to stay up all night under blinding halogen lamps
As half the city sleeps, we see fewer unfamiliar faces
And I can count the steady beating of our hearts
You surface in all my waking moments here
While I stay trapped in the beauty of this free night

--

--

On nights, when life feels like a distant dream
One that leaves you happy right after waking up
But melancholic nonetheless
For you know you could have used little bits of that lie
This sadness is a pathetic routine
and I am too wise to put anyone at fault but me
On such nights you hold me longer than I need, or deserve
or know what to do with
You pull me close, kiss my forehead, lips, and chest
And so, life feels close, and warm, and alive

--

--

I don’t know.
When people tell others, it’s going to be all right,
or when they tell themselves the same.
Right after a tragedy our body goes into a shock.
The pain sets in after a while.
It’s a defense mechanism since our primal days,
the numbness that sets in allows us to act.
Even our body tells us lies.

--

--

As the storm arrived
I couldn't do much
Except look for a shelter
And weather it

I believe the living are afraid of the dead
The dead talk to us in metaphors and memories
And we reply them, in silent prayers to the sky
Taking forms of maple leaves floating in the air
Or the thick white smoke rising out of the chimney of the students centre at the corner

You ask if I have been safe from the storm
So far, I reply
Come along, we'll have a few quiet drinks in the garden
Once, when all of this is over

--

--