Vampire Star

I read about a vampire star last night
And finally learnt that there exists a
term for what you are, for what you did to me

You see, a vampire star is a small tiny star
Seemingly harmless
That sucks the life out of the companion star
Slowly, hollowing the companion out

Growing, getting stronger and younger by the day,
While its companion fades and struggles to cope
With bygone days of shine and strength
Wondering what happened that the tides crashed

The vampire star sucks the energy and matter out of its companion
And the companion just feebly stands, not realizing what it’s losing

Until finally the vampire grows and grows and grows
Enveloping all that the companion was
As the companion finally collapses into stellar remains

You, were my vampire star
You came to me helpless, at the brink
Of life and an explosion
And I took you in, let you take whatever you needed

You see, I believed that I was helping you
Become the best possible version of yourself
So I didn’t mind losing pieces of me to the cosmos
After all, I knew I shined like none other

But you took and took and took
Until there was nothing left inside me
I gave up everything as you hollowed me out,
Took away my light, leaving me to explode into myself

But no more.

As I collapsed into myself
Each particle of my mass waning
Pleading to let go
Pleading to burst into stars,

I remembered.

I remembered how I was the star that shone like none other
How I had ample light within me, enough to feed several vampires like you;
How I had come back from the darkest of black holes,
And how the cosmos wrapped me in itself and taught me to be anew each time

As I burst into a cosmic explosion
Threatening to eclipse all around me
I remembered that I was a mighty star before you
And that I will be a mighty star after

And from my own remains I was reborn

I was reborn to be the brightest star
Burning through all of your remains
Burning through all that you sucked out of me
Razing all of your sins

You may have left me
at the brink of explosion
but watch as I build myself
To be the warmest star in this universe.








Death does not arrive
with an appointment
Death comes over like
a forgotten crony

Banging your door at 3am,
drunkenly stumbling to
Find the latch, giving you but
A moment’s notice, because death lands

Unannounced, unwanted, forcing
you to acknowledge its existence
Forcing you to enforce your
Ideals of hospitality and forget routine

Guest above all, guest above all, guest above all

Death does not care
For the movie you torrented
Or your daughter’s school fest
Or even that book marked at 281

Death only cares about itself
It bursts into your life owning everything
Hollowing out your existence and taking
Over your belongings, your cardinals

Death becomes the unexpected companion,
Accompanying you as your plus one
To every outing, from the market to the gala
Shadowing you and eclipsing all

And when death leaves
You are left to pick up the pieces
Not knowing in what dusty corner
it left behind its dirty laundry

When death leaves, you sit down and assess
Not wanting to address the silence that screams

When will death return?





Freedom, From Aleppo

Today, we bid our goodbyes
To a world that never cared
Enough for us,
Drowning us in a sea of disdain

Today, we bid our goodbyes
To the struggles that kept us alive
To the celebrations that
Danced among our bodies

Today, we bid our goodbyes
To the oppression, the hate
That stifled us
Took away what was ours

Today, we bid our goodbyes
To the massacres and genocides
To the rubble and ash
To the cowardice and despair

Today, we bid our goodbyes
To the false promises
And the pretenses of haven
That led us to believe in a future

Today, we bid our goodbyes
To a world that refused to
Accept we were hurting
To a world that refused us

Today, we bid our goodbyes
To the hate, the apathy, the prejudice
To the people that wrongfully took
Over our mantle and bred in the wave of
Fear and violence that you projected

Today, we bid our goodbyes
To the futures of our children
To the futures of our hope and dreams
To the futures of our loss

Today, we bid our goodbyes
To the violence and destruction
That we now considered
C’est la vie

But most of all,
Today we bid our goodbyes
To the controls on our freedom,
The claws that threatened
Our very existence

We bid our goodbyes
Knowing that we were free
That till the end we didn’t
Let them enslave us
That we got what we had always wanted
That our freedom was worth the fight

We bid our goodbyes to
A world that had
Long forgotten us
Yet, against all odds,

We bid our goodbyes
Hoping, that you remember us.


Last night, I saw a video that shook me to my core. A teacher in Aleppo was filming his goodbye video with the militia 300 meters away. He talked about how the world had ignored them, how the UN did not care, it was satisfied with the loss of their lives and the destruction. He said that the violence had become normal. He hoped that even now, the world would take action, to ensure that the children of Syria have a future. He ended by saying that even though they would fall, they would fall knowing that they were, that they got what they wanted- freedom. He hoped that the world didn’t forget them.

When I first learnt of the Syrian Civil War, I was 14, and was hopeful, and rather ignorant in thinking that the conflict would resolve in a year or so, if not a few months. Today, I stand on the brink of 18, and still continue to hope that this conflict will end. But I also hope that we never forget the atrocities, because when we forget, we lose what makes us human.



We are the granddaughters of
The witches you could not burn*
And the reincarnations
Of the souls you did

Through our blood run memories
Of chains
of fear
of oppression

Our veins are filled with the perseverance
Of the voices
You could not silence
Long after the ashes cooled down

Coursing through our bones
Is a burning fire
A fire that rages through
That will not be put out
That demands freedom

The fire that will burn through
Your sins giving us the strength
Of a million voices
That will not be silenced
Long after the ashes have razed

*Taken from Witches of BlackBrook by Tisha Thawer

Nostalgia II

Nostalgia is finding a brother through shared love for music
And a best friend through 1 am chats.

It’s late night talks about secrets and stars and dreams and hopes.
Arguments over the best movies and worst bands.

It’s finding a twin in a sea of strangers
A polar opposite twin, but a twin nonetheless.

It is car rides filled with background music and deep talks
And messages that know just the right thing to say.

It’s 3am phone calls and 9pm letters
And words that make your day.

It’s burdens unburdened in tiny cafés, on days that just don’t last long enough
And vows of protection, for better or for worse.

It’s a decade filled with hate and love, loss and victory and shared joys and pains
And guiding voices through all those times.

It’s making a promise that no matter what, you’ll always be there.
And even on days when it feels like everything is crumbling,
And you’re no longer a part of each other’s lives,
You’ll always be one text, one phone call, one email, away.

Because that’s what Nostalgia is, it’s memories that last forever.



Nostalgia I

Crimson River Part III

Oh, how she wished
To see something
Other than the frosty white
That covered her surroundings with all its might

Her keen grey eyes
Spotted all
From the grey cat that tore her frock
To the grey men that tore her land

Oh! How she wished
To see something
Other than the frosty white
That covered her surroundings with all its might

At night, she heard a private concert
With carpets falling from the skies
And brick grinding to rubble
A concert indeed, just for her lucky ears!

Some mornings, she hit the jackpit
Where she awoke to see
The frosty white that covered her
Surroundings with all its might

Replaced by ashen grass
And charred lands
How the white had some colour
And no longer a pale pallor

But one morning,
Oh! What luck she had
For the skies blazed orange
And the frosty white that covered her
Surroundings with all its might

Finally wore a rouge blush.
Chased by brown dots
Her grey eyes found the black hollow
And alas, her wish was granted

As she joined the crimson river. 




Third installment in my 3 part series titled Crimson River
This one is about a civilian killed in combat
Do read parts I and II


Crimson River Part II

They sent us off
With promises of glory
‘Bearers of Victory’ they called us
Upholders of righteousness.

We fell like 10 little soldiers
Until there was but one
The one they called the victor
And honored with metal.

The one came home
And thought, ‘Alas,  can sleep without
The music of bullets, the symphony of
Bazookas and the orchestra of tanks.’

Little did he know that those
Sounds were etched into his eardrums.
That instead of his pulse reminding
Him of his mortality, the cacophony
Would remind him of his impending doom.

The grass that once used to be green
Now flows red.
The crimson river he sees
Every time he closes his lids.

He was sent to stop the glacier
Which is perhaps why
His hands are forever icy
His bones forever numb.

But the thing that keeps
Him up at night
The things that made him wish
He woke with amnesia

Are the grey pools
And they way they were drained
And replaced with



The second part in my 3 part series titled Crimson River
This one is about a war veteran with PTSD
Do check out parts I and III