Fall For A Magician.

Fall for a magician. Fall in love with a magician, a magician whose words weave mystical lands in thin air, who draws blind faith of a fading summer, whose voice makes the insides warm and squishy and it is as if everything is just right.

Fall for someone who cannot admire you enough despite the imperfections that you make evident, complaining; someone who lends to these imperfections a rhythm, a symphony, a song, a tune while stringing their guitar in the morning, while you indulge in some breakfast in bed that they prepared for you, in a voice so beautiful that it makes you giggle and blush.

Fall for someone who isn’t afraid to tell you how they fell for you; someone who chooses the right words and isn’t hesitant to tell you when it happened, almost like two worlds colliding, two universes colliding and being one for eternity; someone who can write a book about how they love the way you brush your hair, or the small mole on your back, or the color of your eye, or the glint n your hair when sunlight falls on it.

Fall for someone who paints you while you sit engrossed in your book, someone who converges the two you’s: the one of their dreams and the one that is you, in yellows and reds and in colors unseen and shades unnoticed, small details that give incredible depth and beauty and charm and poise to that simple crayon painting, making it so beautiful to look at, that it hurts.

Fall for someone who makes you their muse. That way, it doesn’t matter if you live or you die, if you laugh or cry, if it works or if it doesn’t, because it will always be there when you’re sad or lonely or depressed and you feel unloved and ugly, and maybe for just some time, your song, your poem, your picture will make you happy, and maybe, just maybe, make everything better for a while.

So fall in love with a magician, and it might just the be the best thing you would have ever done.



Your Dreams Are Mine.


I hear the thundering Clouds
And I feel the pain with which
They threaten the falling waters.
I can almost hear them say,
“Leave and all hell unleashes.”
Their words sound tough and intimidating
But all I hear is the plea camouflaged in them.
And when the waters take leave anyway,
I hear the shatter of their hearts.
And though heartbreak and despair
Has rendered them helpless and shattered,
They give in to their ego and
All hell breaks loose.
And with those falling waters they
Send a part of them, their tears,
Unstoppable they are, and will forever be.
Each tear tells a different tale,
A small piece of their love.
But each tells something common,
Tracing back to that happy time,
When the rain had said,
“Your dreams are mine.”

Let It Go.


Every minute, every second is a chance,
To see the world through a different lens.
To be free, happy, without a reason,
To see beauty in the changing season.
It’s time to change my perspective, to let it all go.
It’s time to cut free, and be nice and slow.
It’s time to leave my past behind and get over you.
It’s time to see other colors. Colors other than blue.
I think I’ll see the sun, when I don’t see your face.
After your car, as you drive, I don’t think I’ll chase.
‘Cause there’s more to life than your name with mine,
Dotted with tiny hearts.
‘Cause there’s more to life than your name with mine,
There’s always a new start.

Starts With Goodbye: Carrie Underwood

P.S. I’d thought of it as a song.

Oh shit! It happened once again.


Oh shit! It happened once again.
This time, it was on a train.
I saw that man and felt bubbles in the heart,
And lost my head to begin from the start.
He sat alone, minding his business,
But, yes, I was a fool, no less.
I swept my hand across my face,
And started carrying myself with grace.
To his seat I went in trice,
And shyly fluttered my eyes.
“May I sit here?”, I said in a shy voice,
“You may,” he said, “it’s your choice.”
And went back to the book he had,
Paying no attention to my face, sad.
But I was not to give up soon,
So I said eftsoon,
“Would you like a cuppa coffee?”
“No, thank you. I have one, you see.”
I felt desperate, wanted to talk,
To the man in front, and go on a walk.
But he seemed oblivious of the fact,
So I decided to handle with a little tact.
“What is this book you’re reading called?”
‘”The Wonder Life of Mary Halled.’”
He answered and again looked back,
Interest in me was all he lacked.
His blue eyes held the world within,
His voice smooth, like a bird’s fin.
“Hi I’m Eliza,” I flung my hand.
“I am Sandy, you know, like the sand.”
Thank God! I managed to get his name,
Else, my friends would’ve mocked me, in near time frame.
So, increased my confidence, I asked again,
“What do you do?” my voice cheerfully insane.
“I am a student. What about you?”
I almost shouted, “I am a student too.”
There was silence for some time,
The train was slowing, and I had to complete the rime.
So, thought no more and again asked,
“A cup of coffee?” Boy, wasn’t I fast?
“Sorry, but I have to meet,
A friend of mine, its late indeed.”
“Oh fine, we’ll catch up later.”
“Yes. How about that new bar, ‘Crater’?”
“Saturday’s perfect, I’ll have a car sent.”
“I won’t need that, I’ll come with my boyfriend.”
What? I screamed inside my head.
He can’t be gay, that’s all I said.
“Your boyfriend?” I whispered light,
“That’s who I’m meeting, we had a fight.”
The train came to a stop and I stepped out,
I turned my back and heard him shout,
“Bye! I’ll see you on Saturday.”
That won’t happen, I heard myself say.
Thank god, I didn’t waste a lot of time,
And here comes to an end, my rime.
Thank God! It didn’t happen again,
And especially not on the subway train.