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Tyre-Deep

Each monsoon exposes the failures we normalize—flooded streets, choking drains, and a city forced to endure the same cycle. Come rains, and ...

Wednesday, June 24, 2020

Ecstasy

You,
gallivanting through the zillion veins
of my being,
slowly growing in my soul,
thrumming, beating,
in every pulse,
flowing, gushingly in the sinews,
so passionately,
so ardently,
so fervently,
and all that remains
after that whirling ecstasy is,
us,
blending,
fusing together in soft whispers.




Welfare unto all 
Rab rakha 

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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.