My book ‘Warm Delinquencies’ is out.

Hi, everyone,

My book 'Warm Delinquencies' is out on Amazon for worldwide shipping. This is my debut poetry and writing collection that deals with the matters of the heart.

To buy the book: http://bit.ly/2gnn6j9

The paperbacks (along with the Kindle versions) are available in the USA, India, Germany, Italy, France, Spain, United Kingdom, Japan. The Kindle version of the book is available in Canada, Mexico, Brazil, Netherlands, and Australia.

If you enjoy reading what I write, please order the book on Amazon and shower me with some love.

It would be great if you can leave me a review on Amazon, and on Goodreads at http://bit.ly/2yBdP1u

Thank you for your love and support.

Nightfall.

He sat by the window,

smoking into the air,

observing the people

across the street,

the clock was ticking

behind him,

reminding how time is

whisking past him,

he counts the number of

homeless people on the street,

and looks up at the stars in

the sky,

tonight, there weren't many,

the clouds hid them and tucked

them away from the world,

he sat by the window,

smoking another cigarette,

the nightfall has just begun,

with the clock ticking behind him,

the nightfall has just begun.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QV2iYFl5eSk

I'm looking for a city I can call home.

“You take delight not in a city's seven or seventy wonders, but in the answer it gives to a question of yours.” ― Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities

I've heard that people fall in love with cities, get attached to them, and live long enough in them to call them home. I've fallen in love with various cities and towns but never lived long enough in any to get attached or call them home. Or never really ventured out for actually falling head over heels in love with them. I hate crowded places, so I avoid them. I avoid all forms of noise, confined areas, and I have curfew times. Surprisingly I don't mind having a curfew time because as most of my friends comment I tend to get most of my work done by 6 PM, tops 7 PM and head home. On rare cases when I end up staying out, be it in the city I live in or the cities I visit, I find those moments magical, driven by passion, and as you might conclude, I get attached to them. I become clingy to those moments and relive them inside my head a thousand times. A million times.

The nasty past about falling in love with cities is that you're heartbroken when you leave them. What you once called a home will no longer shelter you and your whims and caprices. And starting over is never a cream puff. Starting over after having a home so wonderful has the power of ripping us to shreds. I believe some cities and towns are truly potent enough to break us down and bring us to their feet. You get lost in their pandemonium, the people walking the streets like you and me - somewhat clueless, somewhat sorted. You can never call these cities and towns your own for thousands are doing the same. It's not your home when there are millions attached to the same skyline you wake up for. That's the problem, I mean. I can never get attached to cities because there will be many like me, who arrive and depart. Sometimes way before their time.

But I wonder, certainly wonder what it might feel like to venture a bit out of comfort zone, rip off my walls of caution, wander the by-lanes of all the cities I've lived in and see if I can ever call any of them my home. Maybe I cannot, but it might not hurt to try.

See I've heard that people fall in love with cities, get attached to them, and live in them long enough to call them home although I haven't yet.

But hey, I'm looking for one.

If your city has a vacancy for a homeless who fits the character definition of restlessly neurotic, stays indoor for a greater part of the deal and loves clear sunsets, let me know.

I might just sign up for it.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Ln-JJ3YiIk&list=RD8Ln-JJ3YiIk

Souvenirs.

I've wasted far too many tears on

someone like you,

who refused to see the daylight in

my eyes,

who refused to shine even when

there were no storms

in the sight,

look at my arms,

my neck,

and perhaps my heart,

you've left far too many scars,

but after all these scars and bruises,

I still let you devour me in full,

see the problem is,

there will always be far too many tears and

far too many scars,

and we'll learn to call them far too many

souvenirs

when we shouldn't,

see the problem is, we still call them our

souvenirs,

when they just aren't.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UlF8eYNn6Uk

Let's Leave.

Everything changes from now on. Things will be different.

Let’s leave. Let’s go to places we’ve never seen. You get your camera, I’ll get my giggles. We can pack our clothes in a backpack. I know I like more, but this time, less is more. Let’s camp under the stars, wake up in a cold desert, and cook in the wilderness. I’ll give you a book if you have nothing to read. And I’ll write you a poem or two every day. Let’s cross towns we’ve only heard of, places we’ve spotted only on a map. We’ll have lattes and black coffees in nondescript cafes and pick food only to eat on the road. Hold me if I cry looking at the sunset, and I’ll hold you when you tell me stories you’ve never told anyone else. Let’s get drunk on cheap wine and laugh at silly jokes. We’ll stop at every bookstore and music store on our way. Let’s call ourselves a flawed piece of art that seeks no validation. Let the stars, the Sun and the Moon witness our madness.

Trust me, it’ll be different this time.

We’ll do things we haven’t done before.

Trust me, you wouldn’t want to miss a single thing.

But first, let’s leave.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=io9ivuo4r6Q

The Park Bench.

There is a blue bench in a park nearby,

it is old, slightly broken, and I wonder

how many grueling seasons it withstood,

and still is,

it makes funny faces at me,

no, it’s not a figment of my imagination,

it’s real,

as real as you and me,

its ends are chipped,

kids leave paint blotches on it,

and it’s really beaten out of shape,

despite all the mess it is,

plants grow on each of its legs,

flowers of colours yellow and purple bloom

over it,

it’s real,

as real as you and me,

but do you think we can bloom amidst

all the muddle we’ve created?

do you think we can withstand the tough seasons as well?

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6yjJ-2L15rg

Sky Today.

Today, the sky is in orange,

a beautiful and perhaps furious orange,

the kind of orange you look forward to momentarily

but never hope to see it recurrently,

it makes me wonder, though,

has the sky read my mind and painted my fury

and melancholy all over it?

or is it feeling what I’m feeling,

I do not know what it is about the sky that makes me

so inexorably sad,

or impossibly mellow,

but on days like these,

it just reminds me of you,

and you know what?

I just let it and take it all in,

because who knows when the sky will look like this,

again.

Tune for the day: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGhQPbj9ABY