Collar/Noise of Silence- A Poem

My voice deserves a repulsionAt night, a poisonous convulsionAsks me for a steady conversionAvoiding the known diversions. Man eats himselfI’m no differentI had stored my conscience up on a shelfWaiting beneath on the count to end. But now I’m here- six breaths too muchAlready feared- circling around suchLurking wrong, long in the deep endEveryone waivers,

Champion of the Poison Room

Since I was little, I always dreamt of singing in front of a roaring crowd. And I would represent the crowd in my head whenever I was shower-singing or thinking. Once I had held that concert in our bedroom with my little brother as the only crowd with the Malaysian twin-tower model we own hanging

Hither & Tither

Disorganized is the word. Faith comes later. Where’s self-love? I’m reaching- just as far as I can. I’m trying to make sense of my being everyday and everyday I feel farther from the last. I haven’t got a single point left to keep doing this anymore at all. My stats aren’t lying and they’re not

Day to Recoil

Tiring anybody out is literally the last thing I wanna impose upon people. My writings on this blog may seem to be a little repetitive; sometimes overdone on the subject of depression or mental health. But that’s because I can’t seem to get around the issue myself. I write on my feelings at the time

I miss my innocence!

Reminiscing is a luxury now. There’s a subtle difference between living in the past and living in your dreams. In the earlier case, you are restricted by memories and time. You can’t surpass what you’ve done to to the extent of what you could have done. If you somehow manage to do so, then you’re

Hope is Overrated

Recently, I’ve found myself indulged more into self-realization and discoveries. Although, what I found is of no real importance to anyone else. No matter how hard I try, drawing the arc in my favor seems to be impossible. When I left home the other day (I live away from my home due to my academic

Held Back!

My series of writings titled “an adjective starting with ‘H’ followed by a preposition” continues with this one and probably ends here. I feel significantly different from the time I wrote the last two blogs. One of these days few days back, I felt alone and devastated and I’ll add that feeling to the rest

Glass Wall: An Observation

Are self destructive feelings common within a particularly bulky population of human beings? Is it a natural tendency to undergo a feeling of automated dissatisfaction with our own selves from time to time? The answers to these enquiries are a little bit of tricky to look for. Because, there is a sense of secrecy nurtured

দানব-কথন

আমি কে? অতৃপ্ত আত্মা? নাকি কোন অসহায় অশরীরী মাংস? ক্লান্ত সকালের প্রথম ঘন্টায় বাতি নিভাই। চোখ রক্তলাল; পোক্ত কলিজা বুকে নিয়ে যাই শুদ্ধাচারের খোলস পড়ে আসতে। ধু দুপুরে মাঝ প্রহরের অসহ্য তাপ, আর একটু বিষন্নতা। খারাপ লাগে না আর। খারাপ লাগেনা বিকেল গড়িয়ে সন্ধ্যের দিকে সুসঙ্গে হেঁটে যাওয়া। কারণ আমি অভিনেতা। বিশাল তো আমার ক্ষেত্র,

5 Things I Do To Feel Alive

It’s not everyday in human life we can feel all empowered and important. After one groggy morning every once in a while, our whole perspective on the universe may change abruptly. But how necessary is it to feel the very existence we are representing? How often do we respect the being that we are? When