- #poemaday ananth aranya Atyachar beauty Bombay City Could be verse epiphany forest Gothamisation hasi to fasi hmmm hypocrisy I Quote It is written I want to ride my bicycle kaha gaye woh din Lou middle class mithya Music nasha nature night nostalgia One Bad Day poetry Prosepoetry the apocalyptic real traffic Uncategorized vignettes why?
tagsanger aranya auteur beauty birdsong black Bombay bombay streets cars chauvanism circle city cityscream creation crows cycling death detergent development dhrupad Eco ecstasy evening eyes fear fight flight forest forests frustration Ghalib grass guilt insomnia kachra Kanti uncle Krishnaa liberated life lost lou Love madmast marine drive masculinity metaphors minisha lamba mirrors music nasha night nirma nostalgia observer phallic symbol PoMo Rain rant relationships safedi ki jhankaar silence sleep soar solitude space spirit the sea three traffic Ustad voyeur water white wild worm
Category Archives: Music
There is only one song One reed The sound slithers through the windows Of the eternal flute Scouting for an opening Searching for a solitude That it will never find Heart of the fire🔥 from which time came And left … Continue reading
melancholy is a colour. it sings through the cracks opening in the river of your broken baritone. like light high on dreams the cliffs are empty, the sea froths like an angry dog, the window is open, and the lipstick-smeared … Continue reading
They passed their misery around And fueled it Each affirmation was a drop Of life in the seed’s turning Into stem There was no drama As it floundered through Into the the day The most intimate impulse As tune is to … Continue reading
one seam less in the tapestry of the gathering curve, unpicked un raveling. *** In the crook of Bhairavi’s elbow he charms a simper out of silence; and silence, emboldened ventures a nervous thought, before going back into its cave … Continue reading
music should deliver you from yourself. it should be like swiping a chord in nostalgia’s shop, and buying eternity for a moment. the earth of our very being should shake and beauty should slip into the crevice of our tired … Continue reading