A compass

I woke up feeling like I left a part of my reality in my dreams

As if, this reality is polluted and needed a dreamy cleansing
How often, I thought, do I get to bring a part of my dream to reality?
I realized then that they had come to bring you back for me

Forty days and nights away from each other
No doves nor pigeon would fly to give you my messages
Words, and bitter they were, were exchanged
In the form of bytes, and instances, when we laughed,
Would freeze in the screen and later, disconnect.

I went back to sleep again,
To bring my army of soldiers
Because only they understand how important it is
For you to be here with me.
But then again, stormy words and thoughts sweep away
Cars and trains
And before I know it,
Your way back to me is lost again.

Stranded, lost, devoid of basics, I feel you set off again
In what seems to me, an unforgiving journey
A selfish me sends prayers your way
If not bytes, at least you may catch them

But really, if I could have it my way,
I’d go back in time
Back those forty days
And pack a compass in your rucksack
Instead of those farewells
So that you could find your way back
Not just in my dreams, also in reality.

Day 1 ‪#‎eleven11poetrychallenge‬

Rainy Evening

Bagmati Bridge
Bagmati Bridge

I was running amidst the crowd to get to my friend, who was to give me a ride, when I felt like stopping. I haven’t taken proper photos in ages and I thought that this was the perfect time to give it a try. Although I didn’t end up with what I had in mind, the big, bulky, trekking shoes, that I thought would keep me warm no matter what, finally gave in to the persistent rain, and mostly, the puddles. Fortunately, I wasn’t as soaked as my friend, who had to ride the scooter without a raincoat. That’s alright, though. Nothing makes coming home as happy an occasion as the trouble outside.


Maybe if I put a coat or two of melted, icy sugar,
that thorn in the middle will pierce through you?
I thought that things would work
But all of my truths are lies to those ears
Even worse, unacceptable sometimes.
I have been trying to find a way to please us
But it seems,
I have stabbed you in the same place
For a second time.
I’ll probably be using the sugarcoats to fill the wounds.