Call for submissions- Olive Skins

First of all, I would like to extend my gratitude to all my genuine followers who have supported my work in the best possible way over the years and so now I am thrilled to announce that my dear friend Kristiana and I are soon going to start our own collective OLIVE SKINS which is… Continue reading Call for submissions- Olive Skins

A slipping poem

An entire life wraps itself beneath the curtain of my orange mess. You see few things here biting me like a void, a fist to feel the pain I have things half-written over here, a half-written aesthetic journal hammered down with sunburnt phases. I have twigs of my memory packed in a box of despair… Continue reading A slipping poem


There is absolutely no pattern for a person to decay or a pattern for the fruit to burst. Nature shove the ashes of human anatomy like a geranium in rust and spit into the sky. A definite pause for the system to observe cracks open with no faint hope, at times. How do you see… Continue reading Uniformity

A prayer

a prayer so soft I mumble each time There is a method I perform my chants like sticking to the table, thumping my wrist against my forehead. I wish to sneeze while praying to eject sins, a horror bowl that rests between my toes, twirling softly and eating me bite by bite. My prayers are… Continue reading A prayer


Quietly, the wind comes, transforming into a pointed dagger of a muse. The murdered landscape of colors bleeding, trying to ingest the muse. A quarrel between violet homes defeated and uprooted. Unfurling stitches of dead mouths. Colors deformed. Bright neons & curled blues. A white sky now turned red, opaque. This space, an empty eye.… Continue reading Unfurl


I have a picture punctured and ironed inside, a tale of twin sisters, rising above your waist with a pastel grey voice of mind. The coherence of mute environment, is like a prayer to me now. A green straw up in the sky sucking the chambers to drink nectar of white life. I have arrived… Continue reading Effortless


I sit quietly, observing the silent curves of this Plumeria, a life extending like an infant. No lament today, only the surreal fire of this body, listening to the hanging exhilaration. As if, it digests the broken star running across it’s face of thawed bone. It shifts it’s mouth to a better pathway. It has… Continue reading Perennial


What does this speak to you?my lament and a burning tonguea swamp so full of oiled waters I have an eye of the tigera frivolous running starand often I sink in the void of blank noon. They ask me how do I lookwhen I smile and giggle.a silk saree well pleated and insane maybe. I… Continue reading Ignorance


There, beyond the ripples of mouth, lovers sits & communicate, through the sprint in their lashes, flutter of springs. a translucent shadow defies time. for that particular moment. small things begin to dilate. too much convulsions, temperature drop, wrinkled grass land. A grasshoper watches sky detonating. laughters circulating the wobbly afternoon. A visceral face expanding.… Continue reading Streak

Snippets from my life

eggshells, Coconut water. A vintage period film. Clouds that speak a simple language. A symphony sitting behind my silhouette, a whimper of art. Circles  of red tensions, swinging to swing my hair hard. A lipstick so dark, my hands suffice the pain… and the parched lips, bodies producing chemicals. Fever in ropes of summer evenings.… Continue reading Snippets from my life

A purple picture

What is that sits on my backbone? a dissection of reality/ Look around. Pause. Breathe, walk across this painted room. A purple heartbeat, veins of the neon moon glowing, a facet of criss-cross dreams, amniotic sheets of sun-baked earth, observe, wait, observe. It’s an alchemy of genius masterpiece.

Mute Noises

This room empty, still folds a language of dots & moisture holding a voice inside, holding a crescent of love inside. It has triangular edges, sulking the memories inside. A bohemian palm doused in laughter. I linger here and there, near the corner pale yellow table, above the square corner of files, soiled poetry. This… Continue reading Mute Noises