The cost of a lie

That night there was a shattering silence

Broken by faltering sighs

Your halting words

Tried to appease fate

A little too less and a little to late

And smiling like a venomous snake

Doubt slithered inside the gate

And now


There is a shattering silence

As you, alone, lay wide awake

When you know, you know

And when you can feel the sum total of life

Enshrined in a single heartbeat

When you can feel the drumming of your heart

Thundering in your ears

Pulsing throughout

A blood fire raging within you

Bursting to be let out

And yet

And yet

There is a calmness in your being

Like finding eternal peace

That is the day, my dear

When you can wake up and proclaim

That you are truly, hopelessly in love

Anything else just feels

A lot like love


A whole lot less.


What if we ran out of conversations one day

You know, the ones that keep us hooked late into the night?

The ones that make me crack up in delight?

The ones that make you beam at my very sight?

Would the world as we know it, still feel right?

Would the past talks of our future still shine bright?

What if we ran out of conversations one day

Would you still find yourself heading my way?


Never ask a poet

To describe you in a few words

For you see

We begin from a blank canvas

And create the perfect masterpiece

With layers of paint and oil

Catching the light as it falls on your face

At different times of the day

We build for you a background

Your most natural habitat

And then rest you amidst it

In the most striking of poses

Till you and the canvas

Are one

Never ask a poet

To describe you in a few words

For we wouldn’t know where to begin

Because art can neither be rushed

Nor confined to a few strokes

And you, my dear

Are poetry

Art in its purest form

Shall we dance, Mr. Clark?

You saw me swaying yesterday

And looked at me askance

There’s no music, you said

And threw me a questioning glance

But darling I was dancing

To the tune of wind chimes

To the rustling of the leaves

To the songs of nightingales

And to the gushing of the wind

There was music all around me

In more forms than one

And we’d have been dancing together

If you’d just bothered to feel

This poem was inspired by a quote I’d come across as a kid –

A question which sometimes drives me hazy : am I or are the others crazy?

Albert Einstein