Life in a Gas Station.

Subtle changes are mystically woven webs,
They are unacceptably acquiescent,
Tangling our fragile minds in barring its steps,
Midnight has arrived dressed in black,
Wearing a coat of stars,
And shoes scintillating such glow,
The gas station is numbingly slow,
Otherwise an uproar of voices fuming with words that still burn scars in already scarred minds,
He is sitting by the counter,
His beloved time of the day,
He senselessly sips his tea which has lost its scorching appeal and looks at his home,
The Gas Station.
The gas station lies in all his dreams and ill-planned adventures,
Which have distinctly manifested in conjectures and ended in unfulfilled ventures,
His only solace is the gas station tragically devoid of any transformation,
He has seen many faces,
Now, a whirlwind of blurred images,
He has heard stories fathoming into beautiful endings,
He has envisioned far-off places relying on the seething stories poured into the nooks of his mind like petrol being filled to the brim,
He has heard a cacophony of voices amidst engines roaring to life,
A queer symphony now musical to him, 
As he looks out of the glass window ignoring his subtle presence on the panes,
The Gas Station is peculiarly deserted,
The red gasoline stands give mileage to his unending thoughts,
Tommorrow will be yet another day,
Off men adorning oil-soaked, orange monkey suits,
Divulging in grease,
Uttering numbers in quick release,
Witnessing voyages for love,
For life,
For freedom.
His contemplative concatenation is broken by the loud sound of honking,
Thus, continues his lingering rendezvous with his beloved gas station.

Stories of the Sky!



Traces of white and pink on a sultry spring evening,

Hints of grey and little deep sparks of blue,

Perhaps a fading reflection of souls so pure,

This vastness entangles with my thoughts so puerile,

Which are not harvested because they are so fragile,

We are millions gleaming,

Teeming with dark spirited vivaciousness within us,


The colossal sky must be cynically cackling at us,

For we are just millions and millions,

Swooning in euphoria,

And teeming in an unforgiving paradise.

My Musings!


This began since time meant crossing dates on calender’s which hung in my room,

Waiting eagerly for the sun to set and the day to end,

My favorite part of the entire day would be to know that there was one less day I had to wait,

To see him jump out of the taxi with his shiny black hair and a small bag,

Alas! He could always stay only for a few days,

A part of me will always remain empty,

It was always a little rough not having him around,

For my Birthdays,

“Hasn’t your Dad come?”

Me,”No,he didn’t get leave!”

For festivals,

“Hey! Where is Uncle?”

Me,”Oh this is the busiest time of the year!”

After a while,

It was like playing a broken record of the old classic songs,

The kajal would smother itself off because my eyes would become moist searching for your invisible presence,

For PTM’s,

Ma had to be the only one to listen to all my notorious doings,

Oh how angry she would be,

How she would rant about Father staying away from us,

To give the best I could ever receive.

How for gatherings with loud music playing,

Mamma and me would console ourselves by watching long gone award shows while eating our meal,

This opportunity would come many times in a year though,

Not to miss out on the tagged photos which awaited us the next day,

On Sundays,

Ma and me would be the only odd couple bargaining prices of vegetables and fish,

Secret conversations held on the phone with Father to gift Ma something on her Birthday.

Some phrases will never describe the loneliness at nights,

Or when earthquakes had become daily visitors,

I missed going out to dinner or to the movies on Sunday eve,

I missed the long drives,

I missed the spontaneous trips to the Hills just to eat Momo’s which would always be our favourite,

Well, my musings can go on and on,

Endlessly like the ocean,

The horizon only a delusion,


We adjust to different situations,

That’s how we live,

That’s how we breathe,

That’s how we grow.

They.Our Unknowing Guides.

This is a small poem about the rickshaw pullers who take us through the heartbeats of a city,showing us the unexplored and abandoned traces of a new city.


These waves of constant change,

Engulf them in spheres of captivating unreasonableness,

Witnessing unfamiliar faces,new voices,

But the old heavy feeling of receiving validation radiating from them,

Their lives are a whirlpool of catacombs,

Maneuvering through one tunnel or the other,

A certain kind of lucid dampness in their eyes I see,

They are everywhere but nowhere,

They guide us to new places we haven’t seen before,

Teaching us in more than many ways to get past the muddle of our precarious lives,

New journeys await us,

But they can’t get past the ones they encountered,

They are wrapped in a holy mess,

If we are to believe that destiny leads us through the doors of our transient being.

A machine to run their whole lives,

To care for its needs as if it is a part of his own vulnerable breathing soul,

A hint of excitement still keeps burning like the last embers keeping us warm in the dreary winter  nights,

They are everywhere but they are nowhere,

When they are gone,

Not even these roads on which treacherous journeys were undertaken,

Will tell stories of their mortal being,

Now in another time,

Bright eyes are glowing again,


Destiny smirks at these foolish humans,

Only time nods wisely,

For she knows the fate of what awaits them,

And just like this,

It goes on and on…

A Star Story!


I catch glimpses of each one of you every night when the skies are like crystal adorning my luminosity,

My constant spirit breathes a new high,

My soul is merry for the sky has asked me on a date tonight,

Oh the wind is as amazed as me!

For that surely signifies,

A beautiful aura,

Oh look! I can see you now,

The angry sun has been mellow today,

For his mother may have scolded him for not having giving you the chance to have new adventures like any other day,

Oh! But I am merry tonight!

My date has arrived faster than the BMW parked outside your house my dear friend!

Well,I see a whole lot of you going about your chores like you haven’t noticed me yet,

Some are busy sorting their muddled thoughts,

Some are busy mending their notorious actions,

Some are planning,

But little do they know these will remain plans forever,

Some are happy discovering themselves,

Some seek happiness with another bewitched soul,

Yes! you all do have a little spark of magic in yourselves,

Some are deeply involved in discovering new sights,

Relishing new tastes,

Meeting distinct habits of diverse souls,

Some are creating new beats,

Some are still keeping past memories alive,

Some are drenched in the sounds of their own laughter,

Oh telling these tales may take me a new lifetime,

So lets talk about my date with the sky tonight,

I wear my old dress for which I have the sky’s unparalleled attention,

A bit shimmery,a bit shiny!

We sit in the breathtaking light emanating from his presence,

He tells me of the things he did during the day,

And I tell mine,

Moments pass smoothly, with no awkward tension hanging in the wind,

We stare into each other’s eyes for a while,

I am dazzled by his hypnotizing light,

Sloshed in sleep now,

I can barely tell you who I am,

But as you might have very well guessed,

Here I am your dear little twinkling star.



Magical it is of meeting a soul that can terrify and calm you at the same time,

Which rages a storm within you and arises the ferocious tides,

But brings a sudden serenity,

Magical it is of meeting a soul who enchants you to lay your fragile soul bare,

To witness that vulnerable feeling of showing your scarred wounds that you would otherwise never choose to exhibit,

How terrifyingly astonishing can that be?

To meet that someone who brings the calm before the storm,

And soothes you after raging through the trails of your wicked mind,

How refreshingly exhausting can that be?

When your want has been replaced by dire needs for that one soul which has audaciously distracted you from within,

When you have lost all the strength to save yourself from being completely allured by that one soul,

And that is when you realize that love has entirely won every struggle.