A happy puppy.

This one is for old times. A lot of metaphors, a lot of love and exactly what posts like ‘my darkness‘ looked like. I hope you like it! Also, do comment a lot. Literally.

I was looking for a love that was broken when I found him. A tall man with sad eyes and a happy heart.

He reminded me of the kind of love that drowns you. His words always felt like a push off the cliff and his touch felt more hot than warm. But then if I drowned, he’d kiss me till I could breathe again. If he pushed me off a cliff, he’d fall with me and hold me close in an embrace and take the impact. Where I only tasted lust in his kisses, I felt love in the way his fingers would intertwine with mine. He had me confused about everything and I didn’t know what to do.

He told me his darkest secrets the very first time we spoke. Everything about him reminded me of something. His eyes were like hidden treasure chests and his laugh reminded me of broken dvds and empty parking lots. The way he walked reminded me to keep up my pace and his smiles looked like Christmas lights. He reminded me of wet sand, naked Thursdays, and a lot of dirty coffee mugs. His tales were of broken hearts and twisted alleys. He reminded me of over-sized shirts, cold wind and terraces on winter nights.

He was raw. You could find poetry hidden in the wrinkle of his eyes and lust sitting on his lips. When I kissed him, my spine arched like a big smile and our lips rested on top of each other like an ‘ABAB’ rhyme. I remember when I hugged him for the first time. He felt like a campfire and a forest fire at the same time. His breath against my neck swept me off my feet as I hugged him tight.

You know how the sea wags its tail in big blue waves and shares stories as it crashes against the shore? That’s what he was. A happy puppy that reminded me of the sea.

Instagram: @myspirals

Give me prompts in the comment section. Oh, and share this a lot, please?

Life update: one


In the post – 365 – I announced that I’m going to post a life update on the 16th of every month. You can skip it altogether if you’re not interested in anything but poetry. Here’s my very first one. 

Well, I’m a dropout. I did start college back in July but barely went for my classes, because of which I was asked to opt for externals instead. I thought about it and discussed it with my family but we came to the conclusion that it’s best to drop a year and start again from July 2019. Why? Because I hope to have written my complete manuscript of the book I’m working on by then. Besides my book, I’m also working for Terribly Tiny Tales and Humans of Bombay as a writer. But that barely takes any time. I use the same posts I write for this blog for TTT and I go for taking stories for HoB every weekend.

I also hope to get much more work. If you’d like me to do a guest blog-post for you (paid) or collaborate, feel free to hit me up using the Contact page.

I haven’t exactly started my book yet because I’m waiting for the day I feel like starting it. I’m planning a trip to someplace in India to simulate a push towards that feeling. However, I have worked on the character sketches, outlines and a few other aspects of the book. 

There’s really not much to say here. This is pretty much my day. Writing, reading and using my phone. I live in Ahmedabad, a place that I’m not a big fan of, which basically means there’s nowhere I like to go in this city. Hopefully, that’ll change soon. Also, Christmas is coming soon and it happens to be my favorite season. We’re considering getting a tree this year, something we’ve never done before. Yay!

I’ll just spend it with my family because no friends (because Ahmedabad), so barely any gifts. But I guess it’ll be fun anyway.

So yeah, that is it so far. See you next month!

A twist of fate.

A twist of fate.

Keyla lived in a world where mythologies were the real deal. It was common to be in the presence of the god of the sea or hear stories from witnesses of age-old wars like the Mahabharata. Her day looked something like this: waking up when the sun sang songs loud enough for the world to hear, working all day on things that were routine but barely mattered and sleeping when the stars thought it was time. The Trojan war had just recently ended and things were slowly starting to get back to normal. Normal for Keyla’s world meant her neighbors had finally stopped making weapons and hiding food. Keyla always felt like a misfit.

While the war was going on and the cities were busy fighting, Keyla had plenty of time to do whatever she wanted. She loved writing fictitious short stories. That is how her myth started.

Fifteen years after the Trojan war had finished, a paper – so old that words had started fading and the paper had started turning yellow – surfaced. It was camouflaged in Autumn leaves and a kid found it when he was frantically searching for his mother’s lost golden earrings. His priorities changed immediately. There was a story written on it that the world slowly started idealizing. The protagonist of the story, named Titus, lived in a crazy world with magical boxes called electronics. The reason why people idealized him was that he was capable of becoming anything he wanted. He could be a writer or a singer or a lover or even a farmer – and it would still make him happy because it would be his choice and not a forced routine. His powers – not supernatural at all, only human – drove this mythological world insane.

Keyla’s name was written at the very bottom but had faded enough to not be obvious to those who paid no attention to detail. The only ones who did were all misfits – and they kept quiet about it. More than three thousand years later, in a world where the tables have turned, I’m sitting here reading Keyla’s backstory and I have just one question scribbled on the backside of the print-out of her story.

“If they dreamt of the powers we have, why can’t we use them?”

Previous posts: For all of us.
Instagram: @myspirals

Give me prompts in the comment section. Oh, and share this a lot, please?

Maybe – A shadow dance.

Maybe – A shadow dance.

If this piece leaves you a tad bit confused, I want you to know it was intentional. Enjoy!

Twelve nights ago, I was sitting by the window with my head pressed against the pane. The moon and I were in an intense staring contest when something caught my attention. My house sat idly two kilometers away from the sea but there was only one window that faced the sea in my entire two-storied house. Continue reading Maybe – A shadow dance.

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.