The~grey~ the~ Black.

Image result for grey and blackIf you create a circle around me, the voids should be flaccid

if the volcano erupts, the smoke should say the forlorn tales

the markings, the sayings

the screech, the thunder-clap

my tattoos, my caricature

covered in the stack  of grey thoughts

so I love black.

as the concrete foundation

as the depth of

the fountains of black orchids

the museums of grey art

the circulation of  flaccid grey murmurings

Numb eyes, melodious clandestine truths

the mystery takes control disguised as the black lady.

So I love to forming circles in the grizzled blur.

the known, the unknown

the grey, the black.


the sliced part of the moon served

on my platter.



Ode To The-Bench.

Image result for ode to the benchi

The grey bench memoir of sacrosanct tales

with the rustle of our love-making

or the infinite stories of heart-breaking

this was all here, on this grey bench

surrounded by the cacophony of night intruders,

the morning walkers

the passersby.

In the wake of rupturing seeds,

the golden cover across the field,

the witnesses,

forming a twirl up and down, side by side,

over the bench,

inside the soul,

like the romancing of snow with the cold breeze

I feel the repeats even today,

like the soft rocking to the baby.

The flashbacks can be brutal

the way ink sucked out of the paper

making the glance ghostly.

The bench knows the melange

a potpourri of stars and thunders.

It was all here,

it is here.

You serve like a sweet blend

the merry making.

the ice-breaker. 





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Come sit, have a sip of the black tea, I prepared.

The story is long for your forlorn heart would claim the pain in a moment or two.

The chain I talk today, oh, sorrow is diabolical,

so frugal, barbarous

the inside of my mind, heart have left the colonies of pleasure as if.

As I cross my wrist, hear the crackle

the crackle of my solitutude

lit in my eyes,


the burning glaze you see,

the dilapidating music you hear, 

come sit have,  another  sip of the black tea,

the tales shall get darker as you sip your black tea.

The ruckus runs through my skin, joining dots

on my skin,

creating shambles like a dead corpse

creating paradox.

The arms extend late nights to grab a bottle of comfort, you see?

The comfort like meadow, oh, the sweet meadow,

peace like the orchids, white natured.

Yes the,

soft feather stating

gorgeous wings,infinte joyous tales to discover.

Oh,  you finished the tea.. wish a refill?

For this soul can say the darkest of chronicles,

like the flowing wishful evergreen Ganges.



The remains of my Heart.

Image result for alone sad girl painting
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By the time I am perfect,I shall be in pieces bifurcated in millions of skin;

And then my remains will be imperfect for you,for my divisions will not be in accordance of your mundane expectations;

The thoughts have started already to torment me in the hatred I have for my presence.

The shimmer seems vanishing now,in the lost desire for solace.

The colours of your Love..

"Your Presence ignites the fire in my soul & the passion in my body so exquisitely that I can feel my existence beyond dimensions & parameters. I know deep inside me that we will always be strong together & I will be with you forever." ~ Written by Aarti Khurana ♥♥ Beautiful Artwork ~ Artist Unknown:

Pick up the long brush and dip it into the red colour,then stroke my body with the same..dip it again in that heavy paint..colour my waist till the moonlit drops and the anew morning knocks the door.Take me in you,again and again..hold me hard so that my heartbeat stops,let me feel my oblivion as I breathe hard,now arrest me in your thoughts.The dimensions does not concludes at this level as I am still awake so take me back again there,make me free..make me wild.The touch of your hands on my back is like the strong fire that ignites my future wisdom,so show me your colour depth!Don’t stop thumping my mind..don’t stop making me wild.Hold your brush more tightly and colour my body once again.This zone where I have been has suffocated me since then, the brim of my love extinguished and got lost,so make them discover for the new delights all over my body,then we could luxuriate together.Take me to the wildest world,where our desires can could sparks and the nights shall be bright.Show me your colour..the deep passionate one,and fill me with that till I break.


Delight Touch

Image result for featherSingle, double

one on the other,  


like mermaid’s eye,

imprints of your surreal skin,

like the imprints on the sky,

wanderer, a hungry lioness,

colossal walks,

endless nights,



fiction as hard as a black rock,

Wrinkles formed, beneath thy body,

inside thy soul,

clamouring, in the wild ebb,

Then, this feather

soft as poppy,

hug my veins, all of it.

Runs magic, autonomy,

dissolving into my red,




Making inside shine,

oh thy feather,

forming straight paths to walks,

The red nails,

consonance to drugged-eye.


the stealth of symphony,

like the icicles formed,

One on one,

unveiling the touch,

patterns formed.




Hello, dear ones!

Now, I know for all those who are new to WP you must be busy in finding your audience and followers.And to achieve that you must be peeping into other’s blog surely, which is a good thing.

What I have observed recently, people would come to my blog and press that like button like it’s raining.Without any stoppage, without any pause..all I get is ‘like’ to almost all of my posts.What superpower do such people have, I wonder?

It’s once again a humble request kindly don’t play that kindergarten games wherein if you like or follow my post so shall I. Nope!I will still follow the blogs that I admire or find my niche for.Your million likes would go waste, so save it kindly!

If you like my work, then only hit like as this platform is not like Facebook or Instagram, I write some of my deepest thoughts, I produce my originality here.I would really appreciate if you all take out your time to read it.I would be honoured, really!

As for the sake of followers, it’s my advice to all the newbie, please don’t indulge into gaining followers as your priority for if your work is adorable people will come to it by the end of the day.I know ‘numbers’ motivates us but you need to write with that flow eventually.

Hope you all agree to it.Happy Blogging!



Come,count the ways.

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You ask how my body smells of you?You ask how I breathe for you?The atlas of my body shall show you the destinations.It shall reveal all the vulnerable points of my body,like summer meeting its cool breeze or love kindling in the most rawest form,wild and free.

Come,I shall count the ways,I fancy you,like the brightest moon sparkling the dark skies,making the sky worth a glance.Like the infinite kiss one could imagine,with equations equal to exemplary delicacy.Like the ways,it shall be divine with you in mind and your thoughts wild awake in soul.So fresh and dewy you are,come count the ways front and back.

I shall take you to the fragments of my mind,then visit you in my intoxicated mind that hold the pictures of you,all intensified to the core,with colors of your love,red being the prominent one.The splash of colors remind me,your impeccable horizons,I crave.You exist in my veins,come peek into my blood,for it shall proclaim your love,for it shall declare my utmost desires,the unheard prayers of my fragile soul.Come once again,I shall show you the mirror of my heart,you shall know that it is all you,for you.