A Mountain Dream

Last night hailed thunderstorm from all over the places and directions, it was windy and later it got rainy. This morning, it was one of those mornings when the ceiling fan is not needed yet you still want it to rotate with the whirling of the winds that comes fresh after touching the mountains around. […]

Just Around The Corner

It is a strange feeling. It’s a step yet it has so many infinitesimal sub-steps under it, so many if conditions applied to each one. I was just wondering what it’d be like to find places and roam around them. Especially if the places are in other countries. Meet people, spend nights in their rooms, […]

Medium.com is Home For Now

I’d started writing on this blog to engage with the WordPress community. 27% of the seeable (searchable) web is powered by WordPress. There are so many of us! But I haven’t been able to make conversations. Not even a single comment came through. I don’t know if it is the things that I write about are unrelatable to people, or what.

For now, I’ve started writing on Medium.com more. I’m also writing to properly send pieces to literary mags.

Here are some of the pieces that I recently wrote on medium

  1. Things I Wouldn’t Say Otherwise: This was the first slam poem that I formed at a local open mic. I wrote this the night before the open mic. For the lack of any better content, I thought to myself
    What could be a better subject matter than to think about what things I could tell a bevy of trustworthy strangers. Hence I wrote this poem. All the events in the poem are real. 
    The poem is currently a draft, Medium let’s one share one’s unpublished work as well, just that people won’t be able to comment on it or recommend it
  2. Paper 3 Newspaper Clippings: This is a slam poem/free verse about a bias I was a victim of. Since I was in first grade, fashion and film industry in my country and all around the world played with my mind. Most Indian families do not talk freely about many subject matters. Most of the parents think that studies are the go all be all goal of their children that they should achieve. Most of the times, they do not literally talk about anything else. I haven’t talked to anything with my father for years other than his asking me if I need more money, and my asking him if he’s okay. It’s very obvious to say after this information that I didn’t talk about girls or sex or how is it like to be in the real world, and what are their problems and so so many other things.Due to this bias, slowly and steadily my neurons started getting hardwired. I could only find skinny models, busty breasted models attractive, I’d drool over them, masturbate on “Hardcore Porn“, until two things happened
    1. I couldn’t get an erection with any girl I’d be with
    2. I realized myself out of this fact, spent nights (literally) thinking about it. About why didn’t I get attracted towards other girls. The longer I kept thinking about it, the faster I kept getting out of this fucking bias.
  3. Lost in Words: Why Listicles and Catchy Headings are Ruining Reading Habits: Self-explanatory, I guess.
  4. Once, I: After a poem by the same name, which was featured in Poetry Magazine in 2013.

Also, I curate a weekly literary/arty newsletter. I call it LOL (List of Lit). You can read more about it here. Please Please see the previous issues to known what it is all about. If it’s for you please subscribe?

Until next time WordPress, adios!

A Poem I Wrote After I Made Love For The First Time 4 Years Back

Make Out Meditation

Her breaths of pleasure fell on the sides
of my neck, she waywardly turned and
the breath, warm as red, brushed my nape,
I shock-waved my body into existence.

Dragon breaths fired on each other’s necks
and once in awhile her hair would make way
into my mouth, but I wouldn’t mind. Our faces
stuck at each other’s cheeks on sideways of the head.

The camisole, a furnace, burnt with the heat
her body emanated continuously, so hot it
stupefied me. I enquired, she said it was alright,
that it was normal blistering of the sun in her.

The shutter of my eyes, shut itself, when
the lips pursed and touched in the storm of
two monsters fighting as if they loved each other.
The apparent sweetness of souse, felt

like endless arena of water battles. The
air that the fan crushed unto us, in vain of
its attempts to evaporate sweat from our chests.
Our cheeks lovably kept caressing each other.

The highs and the lows, the gasps,
touches of the toes, the moans of lightning excitations.
The interwreathes of the flowers of her finger scrolls
on my back. The pleasantries exchanged in
silence that night drew upon us.
Dumbfounding.

In a twinkling of the end, there was a blank slate
the black and the white boards swiped to their
lengths and breadths. A staunch mark in each
other, they had left, of fleeting pleasure and

what had begun on the speed of yeast outgrowth
vanished quicker than the passing of the present moment,
Their stare deserted each other and with benevolent
hands on each other’s heads, they began to meditate.