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a small token of kindness [ 17th september 2025, wednesday ] 
          
          broken fury, dead incitement, delirium stitched in emotions. yearning winds, fanning destructions, branches that bury their homelands. 
          
          systemic disorientations, horrors owed to joys that bleed. mysterious differences, confusions constructed, alarms that ring but souls that refuse to awaken. 
          
          blaring conquerors, forgotten tunnels, coffee cooling beside unmade dread. thrumming fingertips, raging purposes, metamorphosis: humans crawling, carrying everyday banters. 
          
          the sun with a thousand eyes, the night with hidden crimes, feathers drowned in poet's ink. sorrows of lyrics, wings lost in the blue, life that feeds one melancholy, souls distilling it into hope. 
           #adropofhumanity

a small token of kindness [ 01st september, 2025 — monday] 
          
          words plated in heirlooms, heavy with light,
          tinkling cuts, dazzling wounds —
          weaponry forged from childhood gloom,
          wars cradled in a mother’s stolen womb. 
          
          windmills bow above folded clothes,
          grandmother’s peach crumble cooling on the sill.
          cottages lean, tethered with ghosts —
          growth a gamble, memory the wager. 
          
          tender hearts rest in greasy hands,
          coloured proses, begotten rhyme.
          measuring the gaps of fleeting hours,
          tidy rooms against the storm of rest. 
          
          roads of chemicals, an age of hearts,
          souls displaced, refugees of home.
          effervescence rushes, skeletons mist-bound —
          a tale as old as precedents. 
          
          labyrinthine dashes, nuance permitted,
          olives of faith, olives betrayed.
          a marathon — glass slippers sublime —
          and all of life becomes a floor for dancing,
          a garden for incitement,
          a bloom pressed against time. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a token of kindness [ 24th august, 2025 — sunday ] 
          
          where comes the chaos? soar and sin, the culprit,
          from the lodging inns. surrendered and sought,
          beavering, bold— a little of the timid, a lot of the known. 
          
          swinging with pride, doors left unknocked,
          a guest invited under intoxication’s hold.
          forging, jeopardising, guided by homely apple-pie servings; bruised words swept beneath the rug of humility. 
          
          barks and bellows, odours, open wounds,
          entangled chairs and a single creaking move.
          whisper, then wait, tremors that carry
          a mouth of screams— beginning and dying
          in a parched throat. 
          
          kalopsia and kites— a guest like ropeburn,
          pricking like wine. mindful maps, mindless routes,
          sanctuaries like lies that bury the truth.
          shadows stumble, shoes fade—
          a blessing strikes a menace, transforming a paper cut into a prayer. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a token of kindness [ 18th july 2023 ] 
          
          insecure poems, confident aches; inspired decades yet everyday a death. stretching silences, concrete words; homes that melt and walls that echo. floating feet, rotten flowers; waves that pause in an ocean that seamlessly flows. 
          
          fluttering thoughts, fiddling feelings; coloured mouths and disappearing promises. hibernating lights and travelling darknesses; lingering lilacs and luminescent shadows. 
          
          minds of pearls, mouths of venom; do not lose by playing to their strengths. corridors of history, weaponsied love; transient nor malleable. fragile loneliness, screaming insecurities;  not every sunset has to be colourful. 
          
          sun of rain, thunders of frustration; mornings like amnesia, cloudless burdens. midday pride, repentance heavy; grief stricken victories, blackbird joys. mansions of footsteps, tears of dreams; we are all graves carrying the dying spark of life in us. 
           #adropofhumanity 

a small token of kindness [ 10th july 2023  ] 
          
          mountains and decorators, exhaustion and evil eye; surviving bones and careless finds. funeral floods and tumbling sorrows; forests and bridges of laughters and morals. feelings migrated, clouds and dresses; that which rains does not always bring about harvest. 
          
          clocks of manners, a road of residences; hearts like maples marked along fences. pictures of politeness, smiles like wounds; world a death of another, burial grounds like jasmine blooms. 
          
          mornings of questions, blurred evening attempts; youth of trial and error, life a honeycomb aged. dreams of wounds, dreams like a father's disappointment; storms like swaying birth, storms sometimes like corpses of discipline.  
          
          disassociated honour, ribbed filters; what binds is not glue, rather, mutual respect. eastern wind and crepuscular billows; howling books and silent words. the majesticness of months yet the solemnity of years; to the hearts that wriggle with pain, silence is delicate, thin ice-like elegance. 
           #adropofhumanity 

there will be a moment in your life when you realise you are 26 when yesterday you were just 16; and you wouldn't be able to tell how a decade passed away and your life got divided into befores and afters. the fury of youth will subdue and nothing will really change but everything will feel different when you look at old photographs and blurry videos taken on cheap mobile phones. scents will remind you of childhood and certain friends you don't talk to anymore; hangouts will become reunions and Ammi's burnt rotis will forever be a taste that lingers in your tongue. and I know on some days you won't be able to show anything of those past 10 years but I hope you remember to breathe, and let go of the knot in your chest. I hope you go out in the sun and live a little, because tomorrow you are 36.

YOU COOKED FOR ME
          
          once, in the time we were together. Pasta. Vegetarian.
          
          I leaned against your doorway, not yet comfortable in any place that belonged to you, and said how touched I was that you'd listened to my nervous babble on our first date. "No meat, but dairy is fine."
          
          It felt like the kindest thing anyone had ever done for me – mixing handmade pesto in a white bowl. Clearing away a stack of unopened mail from a stool so I could sit and watch the steam rise.
          
          In retrospect I can see that you give me very little and I tried to build an entire future with it.
          
          You must understand, I had never been remembered like that, before.
          
          With purpose. Without begging for it.
          
          I took what I was offered and ran...

But who prays for Satan? Who in, eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it the most?
                                                         ~MarkTwain
                              

together we will create a home with no loud anger, no explosive rage, no slamming doors or breaking glass, no holes punched into the walls so hard that the foundation rocks and cracks. our home will be gentle, it will be warm. I will keep you safe and you will keep me still. no fear, no hurt, no worry. we come from broken and twisted places but together we will build something whole and safe. we will curl around each other like a pair of quotation marks at night, warm and comforted. in the mornings, you'll sing in the shower again. we will heal,and we will raise a family that doesn't need to heal.
                                                                             ~i.i

you wanted to marry me at midnight in our local denny's next to the drunks and the drugged,
          waiting for the lights to sober them up for darkness outside,
          so it can be a bit safer for them to get home.
          
          i thought that was fitting but what i said was
          only if i wear a dress the colour of the moon,
          with delicate lace beaded with starlight.
          hope would modestly shimmer as my veil,
          bringing out hues of honey in my dark brown eyes.
          
          you didn't want to wear a suit,
          just the sweater vest from the new year's party
          where, on the eve of change, you drunkenly kissed me with champagne lips, spilling the secret.
          
          the game came to an end and the night did too,
          the moon changed phases, and we changed too.
          still, when i pass by that little i think of you,
          and our imaginary wedding, just a little out of view.
                                                                                  ~i.i