What makes you think he is “Home”?

May be he is just a really amazing room in an expensive hotel, that you paid for with your time and love and truckload of emotions. May be he is that cozy bed you don’t want to leave but have to because it’s just too expensive to stay checked-in forever. May be it all seems so perfect now because it was fabricated into perfection.

But he is not perfect. He is flawed and you love him despite that. I guess that is exactly why you thought he is Home. Because he made you want to come back despite it all. Just like Home.

You see, people can be so messed up, so confused. They leave a perfectly cozy home to live a nomadic life to check in to different hotels – each different from the other. And that’s what makes them happy. Happier.  May be some people aren’t meant to have a home. May be some aren’t meant to be one for someone. May be a room is all they want. And a room is all they will ever be. And a room cannot encompass all this love that you have inside you. But a Home will find it and nurture it.

Be your Home.


I Lost You


I lost you
Bit by bit
One folly at a time
And with each tear that followed.

I lost you
A little every month
December, May & October
April and again in December

I lost you
Like one loses time
One moment culminating into another
Until one is not left with any more.

I lost you
Like one loses precious hair
Every single day
But thinks it’s okay.

I lost you
Memory by memory
Or may be all at once
You just hid it very well.

I lost you
Or did I?
May be it was you who lost
While I, just loved.

I remember…

I remember when you stopped being there for me. Just like all those times when you were. I am not biased. I am not unfair. I am just. I remember your presence and absence alike. But you were there for me when I could have done without you. And you decided to stop, when I needed you the most. May be, you thought you’ve been for me enough. May be, you thought it was time for me to grow on my own, to have my thoughts reverberate in my chaotic mind instead of sharing them with you, to have my broken heart crushed further and mold it into something else, to take control of my life. All. On. My. Own.

Or may be, I am being too optimistic about you. May be, you were simply not there for me.

I remember crying into the night, as the pillow absorbed my loud screams. I remember going numb and staring into nothingness. On some days, that, would be the most peaceful moment.

I remember creating walls, strong enough to shut people out. I remember creating walls, weak enough for you to walk right back in.

I remember wanting to forget things, to forget you. I remember failing miserably. Over and over again. I remember learning to live with it. I remember hoping not to die with it. I remember so many things and nothing at all, all at once.

If only, you too remembered a little something.

If only, you remembered me.

I’d Like To Dream, Tonight…


And when I go to bed, tonight,

Wearied by your thoughts,

Weighed down by a pile of unfulfilled dreams

And bleeding hopelessness,

And when I dream

Like I often do

And when you drop by

Like you often do

Will you please, oh please,

Bring the piece of my heart, tonight?

The one you took with you, when you left

The one you never returned,

Because you never came back.

Will you please, oh please,

Bring that piece of my heart, tonight?

For I’d like to dream, like I never do,

Of an unbroken heart, tonight.