Here we are, clashing
furiously on our
principles- I’m an
unstoppable force, you’re
an unmovable object
and things like
what you did that day,
where you made
proclamations about
someone you didn’t
even know, this is giving
me the drive to keep
going, things like
this are going to
mean the end for
you, because I’m
pushing hard and you’re
bound to move soon,
and when you do,
maybe you’ll realize
how the constant
judgement feels, maybe
you’ll realize that you’ve
had it easy all these
years and maybe you’ll
realise that you’ve
been in a position
of privilege, maybe
you’ll see that I’m
here to even the
playing field


Yesterday, I was attempting
exponentiation and I
realised that in my life,
though I have a finite
number of problems, they
all have the same
variable; you. Isn’t it funny
that though we done
talk often anymore,
you’re still making
such an impact in
my life. Day before, when
you walked into class
it felt like lightning had
struck, you set me on fire
until you looked at me.
Your gaze dismissed me
and it was like a sudden
downpour of cold water
jerking me back to life,
dousing the fire I felt,
reminding me that we,
we are nothing and
even though you’re in
every equation of my life
I could ever make, I’m
probably only in the ones
you threw away six months
ago and never looked
at again. Isn’t it funny,
that things like maths
remind me of you, but you,
you don’t remember me
till I’m standing in front of
you and even then, you
look right through me,
even then, I don’t mean
a thing to you. A month
ago, you tried to keep me
around, (to keep your
options open, I suppose),
And I guess today,
the curve I’m tracing is
no longer following
your equation,
and I guess today,
I no longer want
to be an option,
I guess today, I’m
just not seeing you
in my textbooks anymore


The clash of my
bangles is heard
as I rush down
the stairs,trying
to wear my jhumkas
while holding my
lehenga so that
I don’t trip and my
mother tells me
to hurry, because
she needs me to
hold the gift, some
mithai for the lucky
couple, along with
a delicate dinner
set. When my
grandmother sees
me, she beams,
telling me that
Indian clothes suit
me and I smile
because no matter
how many times
she tells me, I’m
always in jeans the
next day, I’m always
firmly in my comfort zone.
At the wedding,
old Bollywood songs
play, and waiters
move in-between
the crowds with
every single possible
food that can be
eaten from a toothpick.
Relatives I haven’t
seen in years tell
me that I’ve grown up,
that I’ve lost weight,
that I look beautiful.
I smile at them
over and over
again till my face
feels like its set in
stone. They do not
realise. They tell me,
I look beautiful.
The rest of the night
passes in a blur with
a few snapshots
engraving themselves
into my memory.
When I reach home,
I take off my earrings,
and half asleep already,
I slip into my pajamas.
Tomorrow will be
another event, another
outfit, another
profanity muttered to
myself. I fall asleep,
dreaming of my jhumkas,
dreaming of my
wedding, dreaming of
the future.

Jhumkas- earrings
Lehenga- traditional Indian dress
Mithai- Indian sweets


It’s been two and
a half years, some
people call you my
lover now. But we
both know that’s a
lie, that’s an exaggeration
because this love, this
love is not reciprocated.
Well, some people may
disagree but I know
the truth, I’m simply the
person you fall back on,
the person you rely on,
the person who will
always be there. On
the other hand, its been
two and a half years and
your feelings are still
uncertain, still a maybe,
still not enough to
make you care about me.
Mostly, I’m okay with it,
I’m used to the silence,
the butterflies, the love
with no reciprocation, but
sometimes the uncertainty
gnaws at my heart, and
collects and forms that
lump in my throat, and
triggers my flight mode the
moment I look at your face,
and lately, all that goes on
traces back to you,
everything is a path that
leads my mind to your
eyes, and I’m sorry, but
the uncertainty might
just be too much.