We are all diced up
boiled individuals, you know...

His voice was faint, lips feeble
tattered coat...

Earlier this piece was named "The paper...
Plastic cricket ball...

That stupid alarm clock!
Drowsy hand reach out...

My abandoned poems
arranged themselves...

[ Diwali is a festival of lamps at nighttime...
When light investigates...

Forming a circle, they are standing still
akin to olden bronze statues...

Once, I hit upon Love in my way.
She asked...

One winter morning
back from a stroll...

Visions of your straightened hair
draping the shoulders...

His unshaved beard still looked the same.
Dingy room of the hospital...

She once playfully asked,
"How much do you care for me?&quot...