GhostWriter👻

I love being horribly straightforward.

What could possibly go wrong? Violence, affection, or indifference. Those were the outcomes I had prepared for.

Not this.

Tears perched precariously beneath her smiling eyes.

A dangerous combination.

All I said was “bye.” Not even a “goodbye.”

So I did what I do best when things become unbearable—I joked. She laughed, but the tears didn't stop. The contrast between her laughter and tears puzzled me, making the moment feel even heavier as if her emotions were resisting my attempts to lighten the mood.

My jokes usually survive these situations.

Tonight, they died young.

I glanced sideways, silently begging the universe for assistance.

Nothing.

Then suddenly, arms around me.

Her face pressed firmly against my chest. Warm tears seeped through my t-shirt, deliberate and slow, as if intending to linger forever. I held her because nothing wiser remained.

Over her shoulder, I found him.

Smirking.

That bastard.

He could have rescued me or broken the tension but watched as I drowned, enjoying a front-row seat to tragedy.

She eventually let go, but not completely.

Her fingers hovered at my sleeve a moment too long.

“You should go,” she whispered.

I nodded immediately, like an idiot.

My friend stared at me with visible disappointment.

As she walked away, her voice reached me one last time. “You joke too much when you’re scared.”

It was only after she disappeared from sight that I realized—

She had not cried because I was leaving.

She cried because I let her.

I want to sit by your bedside,

While sleep gathers you in its hush,

Watching your breath rise and fall

Like a tide that knows only peace.

Your face—so still, so unguarded—

A soft verse the night keeps repeating.

And when your eyes slowly open,

Finding me there in your first light,

May a blush unfurl upon your cheeks

Like a rose trembling at dawn.

As you rise and place your feet upon the floor,

I take them gently into my lap,

Tracing them with red alta—

Each curve, each line—

Then I fasten a pair of silver anklets,

Just to hear the song your lotus feet sing as you walk.

I will tuck a peony into your hair,

Watching it rest in the grace of your bun,

As though it had always belonged there.

Now you sit before the mirror, gazing at yourself,

Opening your jewellery box, adorning your wrists with white conch bangles.

And I think—if I could, I would turn lilies into bangles,

Circling your wrists, your arms,

So that every movement of yours

Carries the hush of a forest in bloom.

As I look at you, I see the quiet of your bare neck.

I weave jasmine into that stillness,

Threading starlight into a garland for your throat—

A sweet breath lingering in the evening air.

Marigolds, bright as the sun I keep hidden,

I scatter where you step—a path of amber joy,

So that even the dust beneath your feet turns to gold.

And for a moment of quiet, a single daisy—

Placed in your palm like a secret,

A wild, simple vow

That even in the garden of us,

You are the rarest bloom.

Go forth in your petals and your quiet grace.

And as the sun turns and the day fades into dusk,

Remember the scent I have left upon your skin.

It is the only vow I have ever needed—

To keep the seasons of us from ever ending.

I laughed at such a delirious question. I thought to myself, “You’ve never seen me in love.”

When I love, I destroy myself to such an extent that it takes ages to recover. In love, I am willing to sacrifice my life for someone who may never even have my name on her lips.

I could tear my own heart out just to make her believe that it beats only for her.

And if my love itself is enough to haunt people…

Chidh chuka hoon main magar sunte sunte,

ab nafrat si ho gayi hai is lafz se.

"Tum bahut acche ho, magar main tumhe chah nahi sakti"

"Ladka accha hai, magar kam paisa kamata hai."

Ek magar hi toh hai

jo saari tareefon par parda daal deta hai,

jo mehnat ko halka kar deta hai.

Sach kahun-