English
If you are free later, maybe we can sit on the carpet Humming to each other the silent prayers We would listen to the silent voices and wishes of each other We would see each other as the eyes of one soul If I am free later, maybe I will
English
A melancholic tribute to yester-self, A bygone tale of bejeweled grace, A trail of neural stretch marks left by the evolving thoughts, lingering echoes in corridors of what was once known as home, Soft imprints of hard earned labour of choices, Sting along the path of righteousness. A surreal path
English
I keep falling and falling To depths unknown. The ground didn’t come, And I didn’t care either. I was just so overjoyed With the feeling of weightlessness. Nothing at all mattered, Nothing at all. I dropped onto the ocean. I felt I was still falling Until the ocean
English
That has no where to go? How do I describe an aching that is part of my soul? I’m aching and I don’t know why The things that I‘ve forgotten, somehow stay I forget.. and still my heart will remember as long as it beats My soul
English
Your eyes, your beautiful olive eyes, They remind me of the season of spring. The way they sparkle feels like new blossoms after the rain, Fresh as fields kissed by the morning dew, They carry a promise of life anew, A garden of hope that grows within you. And every
Have you heard "You have to become the best version of yourself to find love?" Well, what about not so best versions of me? What about the worst parts of me? What about the things that I just can't change about myself? Loving the best version
English
1 At my wisdom's end gazing forward Still at a loss of scripts to mean so hard, So many lands may have passed though A sudden call from your semi–broken door to follow , Yearning for that blessed string from the farthest Already entered into, opening dull brain&
Chitra Varnan
I think our parents weren’t monsters—They were people trying to survive with tools they were never taught how to use. They loved in the only language they knew, and many of us spent years translating that love into something we could live with. We don’t blame them.
You are my black ink— the one I used so many times, yet not enough to leave behind. You are my black ink, the one which bleeds through my pen, through my eyes, and I cover it up with lies, calling it just... “My mascara’s melting, guys.” You are
He said he really missed her She just smiled I’ve been looking for you for so long, finally I found you again, he said I’ve mostly been offline, she replied quietly A lot has happened in my life, he said almost hesitating Oh, she said soft, calm You
She tried again and again, hoping someone would notice. But no one clapped, no one stayed. She didn’t want awards or praise, only love and a quiet “well done.” Slowly, she learned to stay silent—not because she was weak, but because being unseen hurts more than being alone
They cut your wings before you could fly. They took every piece of you, yet still called you selfish when you tried to keep your bones. Forsaking the fountain of your hopes, you lost yourself before you even knew who you were. Everyday was a battle against life — a war
How can you compare a sculpture and an artist? They are physically dual, but have one soul. They seem human, but are God itself. They create. They destroy. They can't be compared. But one thing they lie about: It’s all fictional... or maybe it is? It'
You really love me? he asked, struggling to control his anger. I do… I’m sorry, she said softly. Then why did you cheat on me? he asked, still hoping for an answer that would make sense. You didn’t treat me well, she replied. Did I really not? he
m a creature of habit, Filled with desires. I run towards the flashiest bling, Even though it is on fire. Knowing well the burns I’ll gain, I still yearn for what pleases me, And not the will that will save me. Yet I care for the luster it offers
“Oye… take this bag.” She blinked. “Umm… me?” He nodded. “Okay, Mr. Handsome,” she teased. He smiled. “You know something?” “What?” she asked as he slowly looked into her eyes. “I’m getting serious girlfriend vibes right now… will you go on a date with me?” He looked away shyly.
Your eyes. Your beautiful silver eyes. They remind me of the season winter . The way they glimmer feels like snowflakes under pale moonlight. Calm as silence on a snowy hill, A steady gaze that makes time stand still, A gentle spark that warms through the chill. And every time you
She: I tried my best. Still I was left alone. He: I saw how much you tried. But don’t you think it wasn’t really love? She: I chased him. Gave all my attention. Waited for his messages. I never noticed if he asked about my day or what
I didn’t grow up fast because I wanted to. I grew up fast because someone had to stay calm while everything else fell apart. I was called “mature” as a child. That was the warning sign no one questioned. Childhood didn’t leave me. I left it quietly so