The Smiling Buddha

One fine day my tooth cells died

And my buck tooth turned black

Looked in the mirror and hard I cried

Oh it looked so gross and wack

Didn’t laugh even at the funniest joke

Just Smiled at everyone and never laughed again

And Smiling Buddha was my new name

I went to a party and opened my mouth

And everyone there shouted aloud

Like they have seen bloody Mary

But my laughter was indeed scary

Then they laughed so hard, I cried

You still look beautiful they lied

Smiled at everyone and never  laughed again

And Smiling Buddha was my new name

Depressed, hideous, hiding my face

I met a man who’d got a scarred face

I asked

World is watching aren’t you scared

He simply said, son remember the word

World is a hoe. Fuck the world!!

I’ve still got a black tooth but I do laugh

They call me smiling Buddha

I tell them to fuck off


It was a windy day and it just breezed past me, and I kinda knew I’m gonna miss her all my life. Delhi and everything has long dimmed the lights, but it’s alright.

I’m probably gonna do something good, it would be a little less in meaning without you.

Very edgy very boyish, hope the charm never fades. Love is a little word. Bye.

Coming of age

It’s been months since the last traumatic breakdown, weeks since I touched razor for anything other than to shave. No more how to survive panic attacks videos on my youtube playlist, no more drunk crying all day long. No more cribbing over past present and future. I’m glad yaar Aastha it all happened.

It’s all bliss now, it’ll be all bliss ever🌼

एक खत उनके नाम

सुबहें खूबसूरत होती हैं, ये गवाह होती है रात की जीती हुई लड़ाइयों की, वो लड़ाइयां, जो बदन पर ब्लेड के घाव, सिगरेट की लत और अवसाद दे जाती हैं। खिड़की से छन के आती हुई रोशनी रात के उस बुरे सपने को भी भुला देती है, जिनमें मैं अक्सर किसी शय की तलाश करता रहता हूँ। मैं तुम्हे बताना चाहता हूँ, किस दौर से गुज़र रहा हूँ, पर लगता है तुम समझ नही पाओगी, पर तुम शायद समझती हो, तुम तो जानती हो न मुझे? पर अब वो ईशान हूँ भी या नही, जिसे तुमने जाना था?

मैं तुम्हे नहीं बताना चाहता, की तुम्हारे फोन रखने के बाद कैसी वीरानियाँ जकड़ती हैं मुझे, कैसे तुम्हारी कही हर बात सौ बार मेरे दिमाग में गूंजती है। मैं तुम्हे नही बताना चाहता कि कुछ कुछ पागल सा हो गया हूँ मैं।

हां, अब मैं तुमसे बात नहीं करता, क्योंकि मैं चाहता हूँ, की तुम आज़ाद रहो, खुश रहो, और दूर रहो मुझसे और मेरे पागलपन से!

Why can’t Anxious people sleep!?

That’s because your primitive brain is at work. Anxiety is caused when you’re anticipating a threat, but this brain only comprehends physical threat and it keeps you alert and awake even when your body is tired and you’d be yawning all along. The brain makes you anxious and wants you to come to a solution. Now, a physical danger is easy to avert, you can light a log of wood and be safe from wild boars, but an emotional problem can’t be dealt in the same fashion and that’s why you get frustrated because you’re thinking about it more and more, but not able to figure out what’s wrong. It’s not you. It’s your brain.

Tell that bugger the toxic relationship can wait another day and go to sleep.


You must leave Delhi once, to value the rickety walls, crowded lanes and dirty marketplaces almost more than or equal to the overcast meadows and picturesque woods of East coast.

The dingy alleys proffers a lot of things, you don’t have to say yes to everything, which is where I think I went wrong.

Being responsible for your own misery is a privilege nobody wants to acknowledge, well at least no one else made your choices for you, and that is understood only when the beautiful east coast incarcerates you in the shackles that for loss of words masquerades as love and affection and devoids you of ability to make rational choices and you’re stuck being miserable because of some other person.

I had once “Changed” my lifestyle by shifting from Marlboro Advance to Ice Burst, which was not much liked by my throat, but my pocket remained filled with gratitude, and few more Gandhis. Though this time I decided to quit smoking altogether. Come to think of it, I had started smoking to overcome the anxiety issues I had back in July 2019, which become a pervasive theme of later 2019 and led to many eh again for the loss of words “fucking terrible” choices, which in turn led to some introspection and yada yada yada. All in all, haven’t smoked for 23 days so far!

The lazy brat was one of the most glorious and funny twitter profiles of all times, and these are not even my words, but honestly now, it doesn’t even matter. Entire social media will start acting like a bitch and show you the content that you’re running away from. Quitting social media was always on the chart, but just needed the push. I wish to preserve my sanity, at least for next 5 years, and this was a much needed break for the purpose. People tell me I’m acting on impulses, but this is the first time I ain’t being impulsive, it’s a well thought out exit strategy, pause for dramatic effect, to nowhere. See when you’ve got a screw loose, you’ve got a screw loose.

Drink water, with a squeezed lemon, and a pinch of salt, which, if you’re not trying to impress people with your word count could be called lemonade, first thing in the morning. The difference is not physical, or is too small to be noticed or felt, but phycological because you’re replacing it as a habit, with laying around in the bed, scrolling through someone’s twitter profile wondering if they actually did what they claim they did on Twitter.

Cook your own food, do your own laundry and clean your own toilet, to get a very little and subtle dose of sense of independence and accomplishment. It doesn’t do much in the longer run, just makes you a more bearable person and if you ever get stuck in a sinking ship, where most useless person is thrown off the board, you’d not be the one.

Drink water out of a glass instead of the bottle, and you’d be a happier person. Don’t trust me, do it for yourself.


आज दिल्ली वापस आने के लिए घर से चला तो कुछ भारी सा साथ था। हल्की बारिश ने घर से हवाईअड्डे तक का सफर सुहाना बना रखा था। कार में अजीब सी खामोशी थी, पिताजी ने काफी कुछ कहा था, अब वो चुप थे।

घर काटने को दौड़ता था, समय के खालीपन को अवसाद ने जकड़ लिया था, खिड़की से एक दुनिया भागती हुई नज़र आती थी, लगता था कुछ छूट रहा है। एक दिन मैंने पिताजी से कह दिया कि मुझे वापस दिल्ली जाना है, पिताजी सकपका गए, वे चाहते थे मैं कुछ दिन और रुकूँ, पर मेरी भी ज़िद थी।

अपने हालात, का जिम्मेदार अब घर को समझने लगे गया था, कोसने लग गया था उस मकान को। अवसाद से बुरे सपने आने लगे थे, और ये सारा इल्ज़ाम पिताजी और उनका ये घर ले रहे थे। ये सच है दिल्ली ने मुझे बेचैन रातों, निराशा, नशे की लत के सिवा और कुछ नहीं दिया, पर ये दिल्ली भी अब किसी जन्नत से कम महसूस नही हो रही थी।

मोहल्ले में और किसी के बच्चे वापस नही जा रहे, एक तुझे ही लौटने की पड़ी है, माँ ने सामान बांधते हुए कहा।

पिताजी नाराज़ थे, दुखी थे, बहुत कुछ कहना चाहते थे, चाहते थे कान पकड़ कर घर पर रोक लें, डांट डपटकर ही सही पर मुझे जाने नही देना चाहते थे। मैं प्रतिमा की तरह खड़ा रहा, भावशून्य, बिल्कुल पत्थर बन कर! मैं तंग आ चुका था, घर से घर की पाबंदियों से, नियमों से, शर्तों से। अब बस भागना चाहता था।

माँ की आंखों में आंसू थे, पिताजी की आवाज़ भारी थी और मैं, न जाने किस शय की तलाश में घर छोड़ रहा था। पलट कर देखता हूँ, तो सारा जीवन बस भागने की दास्ताँ लगती है, एक शहर से दूसरे शहर, एक इंसान से दूसरे इंसान तक। मैं खुद से भाग रहा था, खुद के शून्य से भाग रहा था, खुद से संघर्ष कर रहा था। इस खुद से भागने के संघर्ष में न जाने और कितने दिल दुखेंगे, कितनी आंखें भीगेंगी।

Dil, Jaan Aur Parathe

A typical morning routine involves, getting up at 530, going for a run, having a cigarette and a Chai at Mrityunjay’s and coming back home to garma garam Parathe.

I’ve been having bad dreams for weeks now, the sense of loss overwhelms, but doesn’t halt the running schedule. The past couple of months were terrible for plethora of reasons. My mind without any job started eating itself. Some weeks were so bad I didn’t want to get up.

I started working on my anxiety issues, and it showed little but definite progress. Guilt trips, remorse and other traumas come hitting occassionally, but I get through them without doing anything impulsive. I can sit at one place without checking out twitter feed for a longer period and not getting abnormally restless and anxious.

The secret is just believing the best days are yet to come. I did whatever I had to do to cope. Accept the impermanence, and embrace your own eccentricity, what made you weird as a kid, might make you interesting as an adult, which include your insecurities.

I was dancing in my room one evening, when my mum got in, she sheepishly got out and said, you continue beta. Told my dad, “he is dancing and singing again”. It was exciting. I read one story from O Henry’s 100 selected stories, before going to bed. Everyday. Day 13 so far.

I am getting better, each and every day. I am Moving on.

While dealing with a mental issue you tend to be arrogant and inconsiderate towards people. I too have been rude and blatantly outspoken to certain closest people. I apologise. I can’t set things right, but I am a better person now and you helped me through it.

Insecure hain?! Yes. Kisi ko hurt karne ka intention hai?! Nahi.

At the end what matters is, dil jaan aur parathe. Everything falls into place, eventually. =)

शाम-ए-फ़िराक़ अब न पूछ आयी और आ के टल गयी

दिल था कि फिर बहल गया, जां थी, कि फिर संभल गयी


है बर्फ़ सी जमी हुई
ये बेड़ियां जो जीस्त की
कुछ ख्वाब हैं जो जल रहे
कहीं कुढ़ते कही सुलग रहे
मैं चीखता हूं खुद पे ही
तू आग है तो जल ज़रा
हालात तो बदल ज़रा
क्या स्याह में गुज़र जाएगा
कब इंकलाब लाएगा
कब इंकलाब लाएगा

शाम भी है ढल रही
निशा की ओर बढ़ रही
है पूछता समय तुझे
क्यों चुप है तू बता उसे
क्या अश्रुओं से रात की
भंवर सका है चीर कोई
तू लिख रहा जो रेत पे
वो समंदर मिटाएगा
कब इंकलाब लाएगा
कब इंकिलाब लाएगा


Alexithymia gets better of you and every emotion is misinterpreted and the void stares right in your face and the blood gushes down the drain. This is probably the 5th or 6th time I’ve cut myself. I keep telling myself, that this is not depression you’re just sad about your current scenario and it’ll get better, thinking it’d help. It does to some extent. The sane self tells me not to do it. Don’t not do it to yourself. You’ll be fine.

Sometimes I think, I should tell everything that’s happening to me to my parents, they’d be supportive. Then I see my father yelling at some worker, for a trivial stuff and can’t believe he’d be okay with whatever I’m gonna tell him. I call my mum to find she’s too busy to listen to my stuff.

I feel trapped.

Misery 2

The worst is, not accepting. Stay in denial and things will keep getting more painful.

Some days you’ll be cheated on, you’ll lose the race you don’t know you were even part of. Stupid people get lucky and intelligent people can’t make it big. It’s okay, right.

Moving on, is a not a choice but a necessity if you want to preserve your sanity and save yourself from unwarranted pangs and heartbreaks.

Detachment I’ve learnt is very underrated virtue. Hang on a bit more. It will get better. Have no expectations. And don’t pick up calls when you’re not exactly in a condition to talk.

It’ll get better. Eventually.