Ya’aburnee

I truly came alive
On the day we met
A day far from ordinary,
A day I can never forget. 

The flame of my life had been lit,
Burning strongly melting my heart.
I knew you were the only one.
I knew that from the start. 

So, what if you don’t love me back?
I never made that deal with you.
In my dreams you are mine;
And my dreams seem so true. 

Don’t ask me to be your friend
I cannot try even a little bit.
Don’t tell me who you love
Don’t let me know about it. 

Go live your life.
Do love a life.
But, for me in my dreams,
You’ll be my man and I your wife. 

I ask for nothing from you
As I want nothing but you.
I know I can’t have what I want.
I know my dream can never come true.


I never had the joy of living with you
Or a bitter sweet memory of our life
Don’t make me live without you
After knowing you are no longer alive

I never asked you for anything,
But do promise this if ever you cared for me.

Spare me the pain of living beyond  you

When I count my last blessings, bury me, Ya’aburnee!

Ya’aburnee 

Arabic – Both morbid and beautiful at once, this incantatory word means “You bury me,” a declaration of one’s hope that they’ll die before another person because of how difficult it would be to live without them.

Mamihlapinatapai

He seldom speaks

I hardly talk

The unsaid words

Pile up and stock

The weight of thoughts

Is too much to bear

I look at him

To find him stare

He has no words

Nor do I

We try to be convivial

Oh! Do we try?

He shall never say it

And neither shall I

Some day he'll speak
'Least to say goodbye...


Mamihlapinatapai is derived from the Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego, listed in The Guinness Book of World Records as the "most succinct word" and is one of the hardest words to translate. It refers to "a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other will offer something that they both desire but are unwilling to suggest or offer themselves." 

La Douleur Exquise

I knew I could never have him, because life is not fair. He is not tall, dark and handsome and no, he is not perfect. But, he makes me laugh, smile and tear up all at once. 
He is all too human and the best part is that he knows it. He makes mistakes, but is courteous to admit it. He cares like it is no one’s business and I like that the most about him.
He isn’t poetic, he does not treat me differently and I am not special to him, but he’s too special for me. I wouldn't hurt him, wouldn’t change him and wouldn’t expect for more than he can give.
I can just sadly smile when he makes me happy; as I know it is short-lived, scream when he makes me crazy and miss him desperately when he’s not around. He is nothing I ever wanted, yet everything I need.
Bob Marley once said “Perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you." I lost my perfect guy and numbly I let him go, waiting to shed some tears of sadness. Instead I was smiling dumbly. Just happy to know that I am capable of loving...

Part II

Today he thought he would tell her. He could no longer wait; it had to be today.

‘How did I land up in this mess?’ he mumbled. Eyes bloodshot, hands trembling, he got hold of his suitcase—clenching the handle like his life depended on it—and walked towards the black Sedan.

‘Are you ready?’ he heard the man wearing the black trench coat ask. The voice was heavy and soothing at the same time. He wanted to say no, but he knew better and so he nodded in a vague way hoping the man takes this as an affirmative.

The door of the sedan opened and let him come in. He was shaking so badly he thought he is going to shrivel up and pass out. He held the suitcase close to his heart, clutching at it and digging his nails till his fingers paled. He sat near the window and looked out; he felt a sob rising up and tried to muffle it but failed miserably at it. He burst out in tears, howling in pain, ‘Are you sure about this?’ the voice asked again.

He cried till he could cry no more, his lips trembling he said ‘Yes.’. The man in the trench coat opened the door and he stepped out of the sedan. He tried to compose himself. He looked at the tinted glass of the window and saw a pale figure staring back at him; he shuddered upon the realisation that he was staring at his reflection. He rubbed his cheek with the base of his palm to bring some colour. He cleared his throat and combed his hair with his fingers.‘Much better’ he said aloud and tried to force a smile.

As we walked away from the sedan and towards the cottage he saw his wife running towards him. Her eyes were sparkling with anticipation. Her teeth were nervously biting into her lower lip, her fingers fidgeting around her skirt. He stood in front of this exotic creature, his exotic creature, his woman, his love, his life, and looked into her searching eyes–beautiful deep blue eyes. He took her hands into his and kissed them.

‘Tell me’, she said ‘Please tell me’.

He looked into her eyes again, and said, ‘I am sorry.’

She slapped him instinctively and her eyes became a film of emotions running constantly through them. He closed his eyes for a second clenching his cheeks and said ‘Sorry, honey. They tried their best but...’

He heard his wife scream. She screamed and wailed, slapping him, banging her tiny fists on his chest and he stood like a stone, knowing he had to be there.

He knew he had to be there for her because their only possession was lost forever,their only daughter...

Part I

Blood splattered all over him with a limp body in his hands, he tried to speak or scream with howling pain, but all he could find himself doing was gasp for breath with tears streaming down his eyes; he struggled shaking ferociously with the body cradling in his arms and he hugged the body close to his chest and under the unremitting flow of hot tears he finally found his voice he found himself sobbing like a baby and out of anguish he gave out a howling cry like a wounded coyote but still; he couldn't find words, the wind seemed to be cruelly encouraging the trees to sway he felt them laugh at him and his misery, he was hoping for a sign of civilisation, his eyes were frantically searching,searching for some help however, the setting sun was clearly abating his hope of help, still he couldn't let go of hope, not now at least, wanting in desperation for help to arrive praying silently (though not a firm believer he realised that this event had put the fear of God in him) he looked up at the sky,brilliantly lit up in incandescent colours; a complete contradictory to his emotion; his eyes glared with challenge as if challenging God to show compassion,to prove his existence, to make him believe—of all the days today, he needed his faith to be true; ‘Somebody help’, he heard a frail voice, it made him look around frantically with a gleam of hope but, his hope crushed as he realised that the pathetically feeble voice he heard was his, glad in a way to have found his voice he started shouting for help, he got up with the weightless bundle in his arms and started walking towards nowhere crying, sobbing, screaming, shouting...with a hesitant anticipation of help, afraid of the time being wasted; fearful that if it is too late he might lose her, his life, his hope, his precious little girl...