Tag Archives: words


There are many things one can identify instantly; colors, objects, places and names. But there are also things that take more time to identify; ideas, feelings. There might come a point in life where these two may overlap. At that crossroad, you find yourself grasping the blurred line like a trace of your finger on sand washed by the sea. There’s a concept that home is where you’re born, brought up and live. But adopted orphans have homes where they weren’t born. We may abandon our childhood homes for bigger, better houses. One may live in a dormitory and feel more at home than the place where they have to go back to every holiday. Someone’s safe place can be home, away from home; an attic, a playground, a device, a road or a stranger. Two arms can be more like home than four walls.
I have a home. It was an old, tattered chicken coup where we hid ourselves from the rain to heal our broken bones at the price of our wings. Then I found out that I was born to fly, I knew I had it in me. So I’d fly only when I could. It was never enough. I started looking forward to my flights. I grew rebelliously fonder the more I was criticized and bashed for it. It was wrong and I knew it. But I still flew but with a pet’s tag around my neck and a pebble called guilt tied around my ankle. But flying away makes you tired and this home was getting exhausting. So I opened a map of all the possibilities that could help make a home of my own. I got lost so many times and always returned to the nest, a bit more broken than before. After a while I’d set out again and learn more about these paths. But you see, everyone already has a home of their own. They’ll let you in for a while as a guest. If you get comfortable they might ask for rent. No one likes sharing their own home much. At one point of course I gave up. From all I’d observed, all the paths I’d trodden, all the people I met I could only believe there was no escaping the nest. God had assigned me this home and that’s it. No matter where I went, I HAD to come back here. My damnation was absolute.
Since I couldn’t escape my fate, I couldn’t expect to just find another home. I knew I had to make one for myself. Turns out that’s not as easy as I wished was and there was no way I could do it on my own. But when everyone’s already got a home, who would build a home with me? Someone as lost and misfit as me. The map didn’t show the way that lead to such people. From my observation I realized that these people walked among us, just a bit differently. You had to look out for the signs; a stray idea, a lofty mind, a cynic, a skeptic, a silent thinker, a loud (mis)leader. With time, I found many of these people. All of them figuring out what to do and where to go. Everyone fancied their own path. Except one.
What if you don’t even know that you’re home isn’t your home? No path makes sense because you don’t know where to go. That’s where people like me intervene. I found a lost one and showed him the sky. The infinity of the sky made him realize the limits of his home. It was unbelievable. All he knew and believed now stood up against each other in contradiction. I held his hand and we walked together through all these wondrous paths. Some I’d discovered and shared with him. Others we discovered together. We decided we needed and wanted each other in this journey to create a home. We had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
I thought I knew what home was supposed to be like. I was mistaken when the iridescent light reflected on his iris. The black cracks in his deep brown, earthen eyes directed me. There’s a road I never knew of until there was no distance between us. It was a one way path; him to me and me to him. Our home is a refuge for intellect, an emotional safekeep within the walls of realism. There’s a room full of all that we say, share, think and believe. It resonates with laughter. Smiles shine through huge windows. When thunderstorms of doubt, fear, insecurity, inhibitions and despair try to shake our foundations, we lock our hands together and let the rain of tears wash away all that blinds out our happiness. We live in our home of love.

An Inarticulate Romantic


The prettiest eyes
I’ve seen are
small, dark,
yet kind

Hidden behind
my favorite spectacles
(a failed attempt to)
make them
Hard to find

A sculpted forehead
chiseled cheeks
a carved smile
captivating, provoking
Perfectly shaped
magical hands
with twists, twirls
a symphony composing

The tune that plays
is the song
my heart shall play
forever long



What if
the silence
is eternal,
the Journey
is nocturnal
is a farce
and you’re tiptoeing
on glass

You play the fool
like an old tool
and continue
to misconstrue

What if
the Verdict
is infernal
the Pain
is diurnal
is a comedy
and you’re hoping
for an anomaly

You’ve been blind
finally declined
Just to descend
At a dead end