His eyes are small. He doesn't look like he walks much. Neither does he look like he talks a lot. His face isn't one that you can read and know stories of how long he pored over his work to get it right. Or how his faint wrinkles show long hours of reading. You can't... Continue Reading →


Wistful drops of dew gleam in dull sunshine Dressed in ochre hue Leaves in silence chime Autumn doesn't subdue Heartfelt springtime Fear bids adieu When our hands entwine What once were me and you are now yours and mine


I know the wealth and the stories that come with it I know the change that is kept in the back pocket and the history that comes with it I know that the glue will go dry after a while of staying on the table and that the cup stains might not go away after... Continue Reading →

Writing For Ever After

I write On newspapers. On used notebooks over hand-written essays about the French revolution. On the time-table, I make my plans. I write On tissues at coffee shops and use them afterwards. On my train ticket for the day; when I'm travelling down South and back home. I write On the paper bags I bring... Continue Reading →


Intertwined into you; a creeper on a tree. After a while, I can't point out you from me. And when they begin digging out your roots; It's no surprise my skin begins to bleed. -Sameen


A cascading string of pearls; condensed water plunging from the sky. Waterfalling books off my open shelf; a strained relationship's last try. A bereaved family-tree's autumn leaves; and the water bearer's broken pot. Shattering belief after asking to trust again; on the doorstep, a last forget-me-not. Tumbling entreaties at Death's arrival, counting blessings for barter... Continue Reading →


It's a yellow summer morning; as I open my diary. And on this grey cloudy night; I read about a girl I used to be. I read about the high swings. I read about the delicious cakes. I read about frequent crimson smiles. And I read of retrospective mistakes. I read of the dreams I... Continue Reading →

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