Killing Spiders With A Gun

Time is but a stale stench, penetrating filter sinuses.

Memories of a bygone summer, in a heartless early December.


Gloom is grey snow, dirty with tire tracks.

Of frequent visits, to a land of no homes.


Whatever brought you here, stays here – rather grew up here.

A dome invisible, keeps your bread and flesh; fresh.


Ties made once are tied, shackled to your ankles.

Uncut diamonds adorn, what’s worth no steal unless broken.


Past, present and future hold no sequence here.

What is to happen, may have happened already.


Midst of this stand I, daughter of the sun.

In pitch darkness, killing spiders with a gun.


The good years.

To usher in a new year, specifically the year of 2017, all by myself has undoubtedly the most nerve racking thing that I’ve done. Among the regular year end realisations, one in particular stood out. This realisation being, how apparently important it is to spend New Year’s eve with loved ones.

This year, my brilliant decision to spend this eve with someone I most definitely love, myself – was threatened by these social constructs. Constructs that like my father, only seem to want what is good for me. Constructs that we hold against ourselves very often. Making this decision and sticking to it, seemed nearly impossible. Until I managed to pull it off.

At an hour to mid-night, I am sitting in my room, fairly alone, with a fantastic dinner and junk spread, trying really hard to kick start this blog for the year. I like being alone, yet I get terribly lonely a little too often. Not the best of combinations. But a year like the one that passed, has deemed me worthy of some time to myself, both on a personal and worldly level. I get to contemplate politics, who to remove from my playlist and how come the name ‘Rumi’ always makes me want to fall in love.

For the most part, anything that follows will over-shadow this piece, exactly like it is intended to.