What is identity? What is identity? The more I think about it, the further it finds itself away from me. Because I don't know know what it's like for you, but for me, identity is a concept that far away. To me, I felt I lost a piece of my identity the day I went … Continue reading Friday 16th March – 0105h
Emergency Bag They tell us it is over now. The bombs, the violence and the fear in which may have bowed. But as I put away my emergency bag tonight, it worries me to think, it worries me to think of a possible return of the same plight. But this time when it comes, Where … Continue reading Friday 16th March – 0055h
Before anyone faints or cries or laughs their asses so hard that they die (RIP), this (one written after many a month!) poem, partially influenced by another, which was suggested by my friend, the hopeless romantic, forever. [A Poem about Love] I am undoubtedly the wrong person to talk about love. To date, I do not know if what … Continue reading On Love – I
On the Letters we did not write and the cards we did not post, the people we did not call,the delayed birthday presents we did not send.I mean, I was about to mail that letter, call that aunt and see how she is doing, wish that friend from college on her birthday.But, Mum called just as … Continue reading On the Letters we did not write
He came. He saw. He conquered. *** She waited.
My Many Valentines This Series of posts was a result of random musings that occurred while writing an exam. Theme-ing it in accordance with the supposedly-romantic celebrations the coming week. "How's your boy?" "He is no longer mine." And that was that. *** I cleaned up my souvenir box last week. It was about time … Continue reading One
I like writing in my journal. It helps me keep track of my life over the years despite the intervals being utterly irregular. It helps me recollect my memories, learn from my mistakes, pat myself on the back occasionally over a few achievements. It makes me laugh, cry or even crib when reading certain entries. … Continue reading The Journal
The resonance makes all present do As they feel. The Art that is true Has preached and instilled in me Such virtues. Indebted to them is me. The resonance makes some gaze in to The distant. Dream of what I no not. Others engage in activities they call Their own. Some in slumber. Maketh it … Continue reading The Power of Music: Resonance