Submissions by githu27_lm

I am not ready for a pet….

some mornings I wake up
jumping out of my bed.
I stare at the sun for too long through the open windows.
But there are mornings,
when I don't wake up at all… .
My body,too heavy and the ceiling, too nice.

No, I am not ready for a pet…

If I used to love you and we don't talk anymore,you probably don't know this.
I tend to love too hard and break too much.
If another life leaves me on my own,
my body might survive…
But my soul, it is covered in bruises, I am afraid that there is no...

Society doesn't do justice to her,

and I don't do justice to her story.

Because in my story,

I change the color of the stairs, and the scent of the corridors,

So she wouldn't feel the cold of the floor, shooting up her legs.

I stroke my pencil, up and down her picture for so long until she sees a stranger in her own story.

I repeat her voice again and again and again until it becomes mine.



I am one of them.

I try not to be every single day

Not to be the one to judge her with...

It's been years RAM.


I'm no longer afraid of the nights.

The way It conquers the days,

days of endless waiting.

Your face , a broken shade of grey, fading,

as the celluloid unfolds like silhouettes dissolving with the sun,

The mountains, the busy streets and the silent corridors of my hostel dorm somehow always leads me back to you.


We are strangers Ram.


I'm not that girlfriend who will sprint at the sight of you,

No, I won't be able to recognise your voice from miles...

The walls of the narrow way echoed the feelings my tongue couldn't deliver into words….
The silence could gulp even my darkest fears..
Long forgotten shreds of memories
The sound of the fans in my Dojo..
The counts of the sensei….
Ending in sweetbread and a night ride in our grandpa's old active..

Remorse defeats my rage.Why???
I do not know..

Days when you demanded chocolates for the prints my gloves left on your cheeks,
But today, the marks your fists made run deep inside my tummy.. It erupts a vacuum inside me that cadburys can never...

My words, it’s flames are not strong enough to withstand these cyclones….

it gets messy ..the dirt and the screams..it just won’t stop.

banging my head from inside , a hammer strong enough to break open my skull

leaving the paper blank for tomorrow and tomorrows and days after that….

just like your canvas , unstained , ” a virgin in white”

the blanks on its face deep , so deep that it could engulf us both..

lure us into the white.

Dissolve all the black that is left of us……

And we would float on top of...