Sometimes I sit idle.

As a poet in the 21st century and as myself, my poems rarely have a rhyme scheme. Here is one of those rare ones. Hope you like it. Give me prompts, and also let me know how often you would like me to post!


Sometimes I sit idle.
So idle that you would confuse me,
With a dead body or a statue.
I don’t know what exactly you would see,
But I know how your mind would play tricks on you.
Me and the devil,
Satan and you,
We are all really alike.
We love things bright and new,
And we all get three strikes. Continue reading Sometimes I sit idle.

Things I fell in love with this Summer.

I did a poem with a similar theme called “A list of things about her.” and you guys loved it! I hope you love this too. Let’s set a target for 25 social shares? Only if you like it. It would mean a lot to me.


Here is a list of things I fell in love with this summer:

Windows of moving cars.
Moving cars.
Doritos.
Smiling. Continue reading Things I fell in love with this Summer.

Dreams and sleep.

Dreams and sleep.

There is a reason we love to sleep.
When you spend your entire day fighting monsters,
And watch yourself lose anyway,
You get tired and your shoulders slouch.
When the sword becomes too heave to carry,
But the villain still triumphs,
You get fed up and your eyes feel drowsy.
When you stay up all Christmas night,
But Santa never shows up,
You are disappointed and you go to bed. Continue reading Dreams and sleep.

One smile, alternate realities.

One smile, alternate realities.

Share your dreams, compassion, smile and stories in the comment section below. Enjoy!


You don’t need other planets or parallel universes to have alternate realities. In a world of seven billion people, it might be safe to think you are unique, but your dreams may not be. There are thousands of people out there achieving everything you’ve wanted, and thousands who see you achieving everything they have ever wanted. That’s where Rumi butts in and makes things worse by stating that ‘the grass is always greener on the other side’. This tendency of having similar dreams and a never-ending thirst to achieve them, creates an alternate reality in the lives of thousands of people. Continue reading One smile, alternate realities.

Wars and families.

War is so much more than just history. Let’s just hope we never write such a history again.


The sun was right above his head, and behind him, the field was a rainbow of small flowers. The boy’s forehead was sweaty and his heart was running a lost marathon. Anticipation and reflexes were his only hope, but throughout the nineteen years that he had lived, he had learned that they were not the best kind of hope. His seniors always told people that training and reality had a very significant difference, and as he hid behind trees and under bushes, he could tell what the difference was. His enemies were no longer wooden targets or friendly faces. They were strangers, and as real as he was.

Bruce had joined the army when he was seventeen because his country was in the middle of a war and he knew they needed every soldier they could get. 1942 was a lethal year, and that is when he had turned nineteen. After severe and quick training, he was being sent to a battlefield right in the middle of his training program because they didn’t have time. Soldiers were falling in huge numbers every day and the World War didn’t differentiate between soldiers, and citizens. One of the many reasons he had joined the army was because he wanted to be one of the reasons why his mother and little sister woke up every morning. He wanted to protect them.

Even now as he headed towards his possible victory or death, he could see a smile on his sister’s face and hope in his mother’s eyes. And then like a curse and a nightmare, he imagined them being tortured and a sharp sting sliced his spine and brought his focus back to the field. His weapons were clashing against a thirty year old man who was fighting for his family, just like Bruce was. Amidst a war for the country and the millions of people living in it, families had become weapons of mass destruction. The only reason he could land his shots in the center of the man’s forehead was because he had a family to get back to. He kept that in mind as he shot bullets and hid behind anything that could give him a temporary shield.

After what seemed like an infinity, but was just an hour, a bullet went right into his heart and he couldn’t even scream. The war continues around his as he lay on the ground. He tried to think about his family or remember their faces, but he could not. Why was it so tough when he needed it the most? This wasn’t the only question he didn’t get an answer to, as he passed away.


Instagram handle: @myspirals
Previous post : Existential crisis
Related post : The war has ended.

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