What have you been stacking inside your case? Forgotten letters, tragedies of the past, and war cries?

How did you forget how your art and you become one?

Why does love need an expression? Why can't we understand the person we love without them saying anything?

I look into the mirror and I see ruins.

Chaos and calmness, that's how we define a woman. She is a dreamer, she is the one who weaves stories of reality. She is a metaphor for peace and war.

I am what healing feels like

Places have memories too. This poem is based on a place I visited in Vishakhapatnam, 'Kailashgiri'. Astounded by the moment spent and the beauty I penned down these words.

You are screaming loud but is anyone listening?

Moments between illusion and reality

People wither away while words are branded on your hearts.

Dreams are like magic, a hope you find your lost soul within.