How are you?

What do you mean? I mean I know what you mean but I don’t know. I don’t know how to answer that. How am I? Like the “W” in the word answer. Like the letters – U, E, U, E in the word queue. What’s that expression – French answer to this question? – comme ci comme ça. Like this like that. Like this. Like what? Like meaningless. Like pathetic. Like chaotic. Like not-good-enough. Like unoriginal. Like pretentious like I think that I am being all the time. And when I ask myself to be true, to be more “I” like in the word – I, I come up with same I.

How am I? You ask. Physically? Pretty sound. Have a slight head ache but who doesn’t. Mentally? As in if I am normal? Yes, Very. Thank you. Emotionally? Don’t ask. But then you have asked! Not well, my friend, not well. I am crushed. I am on a relentless ride of highs and lows. I have no clue how to stop it. There’s flood. There’s drought. Flood – when there’s too much happening at the same time and I am drowned in the haphazardness. Drought – when there’s too less happening over a long stretch of time and I am convinced that the end, despite being the inevitable entity, is never going to come.

Then living isn’t fun sometimes. Doing things I don’t like isn’t fun. Doing things that I like and then finding out that it isn’t as fun as I thought it would be, isn’t fun. Not doing anything isn’t fun. Just doing anything isn’t fun. But why am I complaining! I am supposed to be the lucky one! Be grateful, child! Be grateful! So, thank you for this life god, which you clearly created out of habit instead of necessity. Thank you for this.

But, yeah things are fine. This coffee is fine. My cellphone is fine. My laptop is fine. The weather is fine. The woman over there with the flowy red dress and the nicely tied bun is fine. And that group of school kids shouting over a game of UNO are fine. But how am I? I guess I am angry. Also sad. Also disgusted. Also disgusting. Also chaotic. Also ugly. Also clumsy. Also confused. But also alive. Also dreamy. Also calm. Also peaceful. Also inspired. Also amazed. Also beautiful. But then you don’t want to know all of this, do you? So, how am I? I am a careless and disproportionate mixture of fine(s). Of course, to put it simply, I am fine. Is there anything else we can all be?

~Musings from the coffee shop

The little candle

The little candle stood in the day,
silently shedding his light,
Unnoticed, neglected,
He wept ceaselessly for the night,
At last when the night arrived,
Only then he was remarked,
He happily burnt himself through the dark.
Now, disfigured, his body lay
In a blissful sleep away
Though forgotten, replaced,
There are no traces of dismay,
After all the only happiness he knew,
Was the fatal flame he grew
And even though it had him killed
Through the darkness, he led you.



Consumed and rejoiced, too real to know
that some things are just lost in the sands of time,
Lying so adeptly that, “I will see you soon.”
they never quite come back to complete the rhyme.

Choose whatever you want to be,
Ignorant or furious or hopelessly drowned in sorrow,
But the truth will never change; you are nothing but deceived,
Keep praying and begging but they’re not coming back tomorrow.

A better tomorrow ( chapter-II)

I wake up  to another day,

It is nothing like the past,

I tell myself  yet again,

the delusion is vast.

The mirror smirks,”It’s you again.Isn’t it time that you go?”

“How many times will I see you again and tell you exactly so?”

Of course, if given a chance,

I would lend myself and borrow,

But with whom I do wonder,with whom I ask again!

Who do you think in here, O mirror, has a better tomorrow?

You can read the first part here; A better tomorrow




A better tomorrow

The road that I’ve walked across,

Has led me to nowhere,

I would’ve asked for directions,

But I have no address with me to spare,

I ask my heart, I ask my mind, I ask myself again,

I hear no one replying, nobody seems to care.


So, now I sleep again,

With the pain and the sorrow,

And I smile as I close my eyes…

Hallucinating a better tomorrow.

 You can read the next part here; A better tomorrow chapter-II



“Down below,

amongst the filth and the dirt,

 Here we all stand,

disheveled and hurt,

 What could we do, except grieving over scars…

But Oh! The madness!

Some of us are looking at the stars!”




{The original quote is by Oscar Wilde which is as follows:

“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.” }