I just realized that the two times I’ve been in a situation of power, I abused my power and then used it to favour myself and my friends for material benefit. The first time was when I was president of a student union body and the second time was when…

Daily Diary 05 Dear Diary, Doesn’t it feel like the days are getting shorter? The morning comes when I have barely closed my eyes. Today, my student told me that I still have enough time to live and discover and try new things. It made me happy because I have…

Daily Diary 04 Dear Diary, I’ve been struggling with consistency for the longest time possible now. If they tell people that I’m the person who did 365 poems in 365 days, they won’t believe it. I just can’t go consistently on anything. Somehow, I am broken and this affects the…

Daily Diary 03 Dear Diary, Isn’t it ironical that we soon ghost the people we thought we’d spend the rest of our lives with? We stop talking to them, ghost them, block them and even start hating them. …

Daily Diary 02 Dear Diary, I don’t know how those who are always in a good mood, or give the semblance of always being in a good mood, do it. It’s really hard to always think positively or hope for the best outcomes of every situation. But life doesn’t just…

Daily Diary 01 Dear Diary, Yesterday I did the most audacious thing I’ve done all year — I applied for a job I’m not even remotely qualified for and I don’t care if I’m called in for an interview or not. …

Every night when I sleep, I see you on my dreams And I know it’s just another corny line and you feel amused You guess you do and I wish you could As I set on this journey of truth Every night when I close my eyes, You come into my…

I don’t care about the neighbour who suffers Nor do I care about the beggar who wanders Not even about my brother who blunders Or about my sister who stutters. They can have locusts in place of grasshoppers If they wish, they can all slumber. I don’t care about casualties of a war Nor your stories that consistently bore. Not even your breathing as you snore Or your writhing as you fall. All that matters to me is the reward I will get from living in discord With the people with whom I should’ve been in accord.

Grim soliloquies I speak to the reflection in the mirror And though he’s supposed to be me, He doesn’t mimic my mannerisms So I take a step closer and get lost in his gaze I am now but a reflection of the reflection of my fears. Angry whispers The tales I tell are blown away by the wind It seems the people listening pay no attention So I find a way to make them listen To these songs of experience and of innocence That my broken voice chants.