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Urban Phantoms

I’m not falling apart,

but I’m not fully living either.

Somewhere between motion and meaning,

I exist — quiet, slow, and uncertain.

My habits grow like winter plants,

one inch at a time,

never dramatic,

but stubborn.

The people around me are soft noise —

they stay, they don’t demand,

they don’t pull pieces out of me.

And I like that.

Silence finally feels safe.

Yet sometimes,

the emptiness arrives like a familiar guest,

sits beside me,

and whispers nothing.

I’m not lonely —

but I crave a solitude

that feels like home

and not like distance.

Maybe this is the in-between.

The part where old versions fade

and new ones don’t have a name yet.

A quiet pause

before the heart remembers

The Holiday That Didn’t Happen

It started,

then didn’t.

Days slipped like ash—

warm,

then nothing.

Smoke curled through ceilings

like thoughts you never voiced.

Eyes open late,

mind wired to ghosts,

sleep came dressed as escape.

Laughter wasn’t real,

but you laughed.

Family talked loud—

not to be heard,

just to echo.

Some friends were placeholders.

Some, mirrors you didn’t like.

And some,

just

left.

Outside, the world sunlit and scrolling.

Inside,

everything was paused.

Still.

Stuck.

Sinking slow.

No memory worth keeping,

no picture to frame.

Only a feeling—

not quite sadness,

not quite peace.

And now it’s over.

Too soon,

too late.

All at once.

You're back

but not the same.

There’s fire, yes—

but quiet,

like a secret being sharpened.

Not for them.

Not for proof.

Just for the day

you finally feel

like you're becoming

someone

i left behind a place

not with joy

but with resolve

where silence once had kept me warm

i let the ache evolve

the doors i shut still haunt my sleep

the walls still whisper back

but comfort is a subtle cage

and i won’t walk that track

the days grew sharp

the nights grew long

each hour pulled like lead

the smile i wore began to crack

but i kept moving — dead ahead

change didn’t come with open arms

it came with knives and truths

it stripped the lies off every face

revealed the rust beneath the youth

i learned that people wear their masks

and switch them when it suits

that love can be a loaded word

when spoken without roots

but inside

I burn — no gentle flame

a furnace fed by every name

that promised love

then chose to lie

i walk with eyes

that don’t ask why

they see the game

they read the code

this world is brutal

and i’ve been told:

the kind get cut

the blind get led

i bled

i learned

i’m sharp instead

my scars aren’t sweet

they scream and sneer

they prove i made it out of fear

each one a mark that i survived

not noble

just alive

so no

i don’t regret the fall

or mourn what i outgrew

i lost a home

i lost some peace

They chase noise, I chase depth.

They fear pain, I fear regret.

In this forest, my mind finds space,

To feel the fight, to slow the race.

Where leaves don't judge, and winds don't lie,

Where silence speaks, and thoughts run high.

The world out there moves fast and loud—

But here, I'm far from every crowd.

walk alone, but never lost,

Each step a truth, each breath a cost.

The trees don’t care about my name,

Yet somehow know I’m not the same.

Here shadows heal and noise dissolves,

And answers come that no one solves.

Drifting Away

Home feels hollow, walls stand tall,

Once filled with warmth, now nothing at all.

Alone, yet voices whisper near,

Shadows speak, but I don’t hear.

Getting high once set me free,

Now it’s a weight that buries me.

Heart too heavy, mind gone numb,

A fading boy, nowhere to run.

Lost in streets that know no name,

अंजान लोग।

अंजान शहर।

अजान सड़कें।

अपने ही कदमों के निशान ढूंढता।

मतलबी दोस्ती।

मतलबी रिश्ते।

अंजान मौसम।

अंजान मकान।

दिल में बस यादें रही।

पहली बार अकेले, जूझते हर मोड़ पर,

नए रास्तों पर चलना, पर साथ तन्हाई का।

यादें जबसे छोड़ी हैं पहाड़ों के संग,