I push myself that hard to the edge of things because it gives me a kind of relief to be pressed against it all

The way my skull presses itself at the back about to tear nerve by nerve

The way my arms reach from end to end stretching my lungs to explosion

The way my legs pull until it breaks open my gut in mid air

As I imagine it all, it is only a relief

A thought to sleep to, a place to linger,

A tear so deep within from neuron to neuron

that it pains to every ounce of graceful numbness..

And I can all, only but surrender..


Your words were bleach to an open wound of a scar,

A scar gone long without healing by love,

Sore is your heart when you move arm in arm with venom,

I should let you be, I’m burning in that poison,

Soreing, burning, bleaching, screeching,

Pain got a new meaning,

When you were drunkenly leaving,

Come, only when the world ends,

Before that I’ll be losing more,

At the edge of this living, the last of my breathing,

All of mine will be you.

The battle.

I’m fighting a lost battle,

A battle too torn to be won,

A battle too big to be on either your side or mine,

I’ve been searching and searching,

I’ve found the strength to accept these circumstances,

I’ve been looking restlessly at my four walls,

For a time too long to be owned up to,

A battle to win and my wrists have bled out more than I should let it,

I could, man up, woman up,

Be all up against my odds and hold my Armor with pride,

I’ll do it all, like I’ve never done before,

But the truth, these battles,

This silence and its misunderstood chaos,

This hopeless, inevitable massacre in my mind,

This battle, my friend, will end with me.

Broken People.

not everybody is ready for a change everyday; and with broken people, thye cannot do the positive and calm thing everyday.that’s the thing about broken people. they are already consumed by the war between self hate and self love rationality. i don’t even care about making through it anymore, i only want to bruise anyone that bruises me, just that equally. i’m ready to put the calm on fire for months (honestly) because i’ve had enough of burning in it myself. like every film i have ever watched, i learnt it is a fight that earns you respect, not the calm and positivity. it has been months!

i’ve been forced by my own brain to succum to my anxiety so deep that i could not stand up for anything but anxiety. because i’m too scared-

i get scared of men now because my father ppunched me in the face how a man does to a man,

i’m scared of rich people because i’ve never seen comfort and luxury,

i’m scared of money because i’ll forget myself trying to forget what’s hurting me,

i’m scared of growing in life because i cannot afford the disgrace of failure anymore,

i’m scared i’ll live a little longer than expected because i know i cannot survive here without depression,

i’m scared because i’m tired

i’m just suddenly, out of nowhere, just tired

and everybody has taken advantage of that

i ran away from her in the middle of the night because i remembered the last time i felt that abuse-in-the-name-of-care on my cheek

it is imposed abuse, personally first but now publicly

and im tired of fighting and ignoring but i’d rather fight till i can take nothing less than death

i don’t care that most days it isn’t about one night, broken people live each different hurt every different day and i hate to admit how terrifying life can be to a person like that. this is a broken heart telling you what it feels like on some days to just breathe.

because i’m not going to run away anymore, i stood my ground to a bitch today and you know what, i felt downright the greatest good. something i hadn’t felt in months or even a year and few months last July 2016 that i remember.

and those few very accidentally encourage me, saying, “don’t lose what you have within you dinki, for peope who’ll never have anybody like you. this is the person i remembered from ages ago, a rare sight , people like you.”

okay? 🙂


good day!




i am in love with the solitude i’m left with.

it never leaves me be.

with every passing day i wonder more,

what really becomes of love.

how selfish is one’s need for love,

how cunning can kindness be,

in love is the sky with the soil beneath it,

how ironic that they never meet.

so time will pass as so will i,

with love for an excuse to end or survive,

how typical whether i agree or deny,

love is always the realest thing.

All the Greys.

it’s sad how people would associate my past week for a sad, lonely alcoholic’s drench; it’s sad that people have accused every alcohol-lover with sadness-filled-poor-little pity, i mean, in this world, you’re either supposedly too happy or supposedly too sad. not many know, i’ve lived almost all my life (as little as it may seem) in grey areas like these. never fully black, never fully white, never fully colourful.. there’s a constant of everything, from time to time.
i think ultimately everyone’s life is grey, we just don’t like the connotations attached to the realities of the grey areas.. maybe that’s why people emphasize their little colours too much and too idiotically, trying to hide away from their true greys, maybe.
i mean, you know if someone asked me what i’d prefer, a pizza or a burger or fries… i’m sorry, i’m going to say all or nothing. if someone asked me for an opinion on campfires, i’m going to say it wouldn’t matter much unless a couple of things were added around.
people also think it’s all dark and twisted and shadow-y on grey lines and grey paths. it is not, and i’m not saying that because i look for the greener grass on the side of the river that i linger on rather than pondering over the side of the river i don’t know about but because it is merely quite typical of people to do the math of such abstract unkn0wns.
why are greys of life and moments and state of minds connoted with such blurr.
i realise ‘grey lines’ describes a blur area but that’s exactly my point. a grey area isn’t a lur line to someone like me, it is abstract opinion of everything and nothing, all at once. it is the perfect blend of hot and cold, fire and ice, wet and dry, noise and silence. it’s everything but nothing in particular; and i love that about grey. it is so free in itself that does not pick a side.  it is open to all and invisible at the same time. it is the truth and the lie of what our perception of reality is, which is nothing but a reflection of exactly what really exists and for a grey person like me that is the only truth there will ever be.
too sad grey isn’t a thing yet but well.

Graduation & Xavier’s!

IMG_20160618_172850961_TOPIMG_20160618_172929436 (1)IMG_20160618_204208423IMG_20160618_210038450IMG_20160618_210105887IMG_20160618_210230808IMG_20160618_210337341IMG_20160618_172934902_HDRIMG_20160618_210346732


This day was more than just joyous and exciting and emotional, all at once, for me as it is for anyone and everyone. Accompanying me on this precious day were my elder sister and mother and they were more proud of me on this day than they were the time I won my black belt for years of dedicated karate.

June 18, 2016, started with a morning more than unusual, it was an emotional roller-coaster. I was crying and smiling and laughing and then crying again. I’ve always been good at hiding my greater emotions like the ones I was having this morning, so naturally no one at home noticed the anxiety and nervousness that swirled in the pit of my stomach. This particular day had kept me so busy with anxiety on days together that I picked my saree (the attire I’m wearing), my jewelry, my purse, my make-up, my practice with heels in a saree (extremely risky) and every other detail about the graduation ceremony was completed within three hours post midday (three hours is more than quick for an arrangement like this one).

On the way to college in the taxi, nervously smoking and straightening my saree, I sat wondering what it would feel like to enter that college for the last time as a student. It was surreal and shattering, cruel and exciting. To stop myself from being pulled down fully into my anxious breathlessness, I focused on the grey sky and force distraction on my mind. (not very difficult, for some reason)

After reaching a college full of people in sarees and blazers and kurtas and everything traditional, as per the dress code, I entered into a whole new world. Met up with friends, said our Hellos and ‘you look so pretty!’ wishes, after collecting remaining documents from the college office, pictures with favourite professors and finally, lining up to enter the main hall of the ceremony. if anything, this moment felt auspicious, yes, auspicious!

We sat on our excited arses for hours until the ceremony was over and students were to be reunited with their families for a ceremonial dinner, it felt lighter at heart but heavier with excess food and socialising with families of friends we had never seen before. Mother and sister absolutely rejoiced at my achievements and completion of an important milestone of my long journey.

Unlike everyone else I was part of this college not for five but for six long and short years and it felt like only a second had passed by. All the memories, the people I’d met- good and bad, the friends that came and left, the boys and girls that sent me warmth through lust and romance, the professors that became friends and mentors for life, the people that I ran to when I needed help and had no one to go to; reminiscing the heartbreaks and hook-ups I cherished, the hours of prayer the chapel lent me and much, much more than this. I only warmly smiled through all of this ascending before my eyes as I clicked pictures in my college quadrangle for literally, the last time as a Xavierite and not an ex-Xavierite.

There was an after-party left for this occasion to fully end, only this after-party I happen to have no evidence of whatsoever (why do I always get that drunk?). This after-party was my personal goodbye to college-life. I was about to leave for my private celebration (I was hosting it and I was the only one invited, on purpose!) when an old friend came by to cherish my important day. We drank all kinds of alcohol and danced till I could take no more and yeah, threw up on the way home (I was safe, though, thank God!) and you would hardly believe, I passed out on my kitchen floor after reaching home.

Understand this, this day defined my college years to me and I would’ve have had it the same way if I went back, with nothing changed or altered.


I will always cherish this day in all of my lifetime and I pray, I always remain the same old Dinky that entered Xavier’s with a heart full of warmth and a mind full of ideas, a friend and a soulmate and the strength and the gentle that holds an everlasting rose.