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Heaven? I haven't seen it, don't know what it's about. But there's something about his cheeks when they cave in to give way to his dimples. He smiles as if he is aware how my path to Elysium starts at the glint of his eyes. I wish nothing more than to trace my lips along the horizon of his neck and glide my tongue where the harmony of his smile sets in. I swear I've never known heaven, but I sure know how it tastes.

And when I am buried 6 feet under, the bugs eating me will know the fragrance of your hair, they will see the parenthesis that curved around your lips at every joke I made, the warmth of your curves will warm them for nights to come, the pit of my shoulder will feed them with the kisses you planted, they will get visions of your fingers entangled in mine and the earth will echo of your laughter.

And when the alarm goes off , I feel his arms snake up on my waist. Pulling me in closer, holding on to me as if i am the last bit of life that he cannot afford to lose. He holds me with familiarity burying his face in my neck, slowly disappearing as I step into reality.

I want somebody who feels like a Saturday evening. A meal I order in a heartbeat at my favourite restaurant. The jet I will always love to talk about. My childhood winnie the pooh blanket I used to keep wrinkle free always despite knowing I have to sleep in it. The scene from notebook that makes my eyes tear up but my heart smiles. Someone with whom the spotlight wouldn't feel suffocating. Somebody who would not want me dead when say "I'd die for you by your hands"

Heard people say how he is ready to kill and die for the world. Yet at night, he holds her as if she's everything life is about and is being taken away.

How I always wish with a sigh that I need to be held and caressed like a shivering puppy on a breezy winter night. Yet it's my fault that I have always been pushing people away with all my might just out of fear of becoming the puppy that bites the hand that pets it because it hasn't felt this before and doesn't know what to do with all this love.

People always think of grand gestures when talking of love. But love for me doesn't need that kind of proofs. Would you instead remember my coffee order and blow on my glasses when the steam fogs them? Would you hold doors for me and get my favourite snack when you're out? Would you kiss away my tears when I cry out of anger while arguing with you and let your thumb graze me lip after? Would you like me for me instead of oversexualising your perception of me? Would you tell me you have eyes only for me and prove it? Would you rub my back when I'm overwhelmed? Would you send a song you came across that reminded you of me? Would you hold me in every possible way I can be held and let me hold you? Would you treat the poet like a poem?

Concept: you get loved! On purpose! Someone saw you with all your warm tomato soupy personality with croutons and thought it would be lovely to love you! They wake up naturally on a Sunday morning kissing you on forehead and sniffing in your bed hair. You have no plans, no rush! You're unbothered and in love! They realise it was a great decision to love you! On purpose!

You pick up wild flowers for your friends, take care of that street dog who is cold, remember to smile at that one woman with dementia, thank your janitor, kiss leaves and adore bugs, remember how your best friend likes his pasta. All with the hopes that someone will atleast remember your coffee order someday.

Another night of thinking about how most of us just want someone to close the window at night when the breeze howls, someone to pour the coffee after you've brewed it, someone to plug your charger off. We just want another person to do mundane things with. Someone to bitch about the traffic to, someone to listen about your day. How we spend our life craving for something so simple. Honestly we just want to be bored with someone else than be bored alone.

I wish love devours you so completely, that even the earth laments your empty grave.

December feels like that hot knife sealing your bullet wounds. You lose more love than you have ever given yet it comes with the reminder to let it all go. Here's to a better end of 2024 with hot chocolate,warm hugs and forehead kisses.

When the devil can't reach you, he makes sure you end up being a poet.

I read this word today. "Lumen". It means the light emitted by a candle per second in one square foot of area. And let me tell you. You're not a part of my solar system. You're a part of my lumen circle.

How did you convince yourself that you're going to end up alone when every curve and dip of your body is meant to rest someone's face?

Yes I can peel a pomegranate for you, but will you remember my coffee order?

मानो चलो ये दुनिया और मोहब्बत तुम्हारी हो जाए, तलाब से थक कर हासिल करने का लुत्फ उठा पाओगे?