I swam an ocean of memories and each drop, an injury.


You speak of beauty in imperfections, say the moon has got spots on him; those are craters, nimwit, dents that don’t receive sunlight. I look at the depth hiding in darkness, you search for vandalised surface. Beauty lies not in imperfections but perceptions. The more damage we take, the more depth we have; flaunt your…


I’m a broken glass, baby I’ve got cracks, Not glitter.


The bag flew right into the tubelight spawning sparks as the glass frame shattered all over. There were students trying to bring the black board down and partially succeeded as it was too heavy and tightly fixed. Within seconds, all of the lights were broken and shattered, fans had their wings bent towards the ceiling,…