Old home.

I miss my old home. There are several memories attached. Each time I visit, I feel like never leaving.Its aroma makes me feel nostalgic. An aroma I search for in every new home I find.

In this new city, I seek the same warmth it used to give me. All my efforts in vain. Everything in my new home feels only of isolation. Maybe my old home isn’t as big as the new one. Maybe it doesn’t have the amount of space I always dreamt of having. But now as my dreams have come true, I feel like sometimes, what we wish for isnt actually what we want. 

Our mind wanders around and sticks to something which we don’t have and once we do, we realise the old one was far better. Once we have what we wished, we feel like going back to what we had. 

I can never get sick of my home. It may be far away yet I am willing to run towards it every chance I get.

So many memories, all of my childhood spent in that very house. Playing with friends during senior kindergarten, studying for boards during 10th grade, preparing for exams to get into medschool, my home was there with me for all that. Supporting me, loving me, comforting me.

I craved for my own room. Yet when I got one, I wanted to crawl back into the small crevices of my old home.

Funny isn’t it? That I want to be back to where I wished to prosper from, to go hug every friend of mine who has been with me, made me laugh, made me cry, made me love her/him? 


Summers were so good when we were kids. I used to read so many books, play with friends outdoors for hours, have a carefree life by waking up so late that it was lunch time.

Sometimes I even asked my mom that what should I do to pass my time? I’ve got nothing!

But now, my mom asks me if I have a little bit of time to spend with her without thinking about all my work I’ve piled up to do. Look how the equations changed. I can hear irony laugh.

I sure do miss my childhood summers, but as I grow up, I realise it’s not what summers were for me or for you.

It’s what the summer smells like, it’s about what flowers grow in the burning sunlight, it’s about what the birds sing in the farsight, it’s about taking a jump in the pool and not coming out for hours to relieve our stress, it’s about sleeping like a baby after a long, tiring and successful day, it’s about waiting for the sun to rise tomorrow again.

Bleeding ink on paper.

As the night started to close in I felt the calm seeping through my veins. A busy day was now over and I was free to slide into my insanity of bleeding ink on the paper. When the stars shone and the moon rose, my mind knew no bounds. I could hear the noises outside subsiding, the lights at every home dimming. That’s when my calm slipped away and I could write about my day. My feelings, my experiences and everything my mouth couldn’t dare to say. I could hear the clock ticking, the time rapidly passing. When I heard the birds chirping, I realised it is once again the sun’s turn to rule our day.


What an understatement it is to say that eyes are just windows to the brain,

When I look into yours, I see your soul,

so beautiful, it drives me insane.

(The picture is from Marshall Sharp’s Instagram)


I run when you’re happy,

I walk when you’re sad,

Whenever you try to ignore me,

I slip out of your hand,

You try really hard to manage me, 

Not always have you been glad,

To know that I’m more precious than you baby,

Even more than all the jewels you ever had,

For I was born eons and eons ago honey,

A time you will never understand, 

I will continue for another infinity,

And you still won’t comprehend me, my lad.


You flooded lights in the darkest rooms,

You were the perfume to the scentless blooms,

You turn hell to heaven in the blink of an eye,

You are the only one, I ever want to call mine❤