Open Letter #3

Dear love,

You tell me you love handwritten letters, but you never read them. You say you don’t want to because you don’t want to fall in love with me and probably you don’t want me to fall in love with you.

I know you keep telling me about this guy and how he makes you feel from a different part of the world. And when I say this to you, you don’t believe me; you say it is not love. It probably feels like it but it is not. I know this, because you and I have been in love for a long time now.

Neither of us is willing to accept it nor do we intend to, because naivety.

So, tell me, love, during random afternoons when you are busy doing your work, do you imagine me there with you or you imagine him?

On the nights when you are sipping your lukewarm coffee just the way you like it, cross your heart and tell me you don’t think about me the way I do.

I don’t know what it is about you. Maybe it’s the way nothing else matters when we’re talking or how you make me smile more than anyone else has. It could be the way you always seem to say the right thing at the right time.

Love, if someday you find this letter tucked inside a box of forgotten memories and you are reading this now, just know something if you will. Remember how much it means to me, at this moment, to be in love with you.

Yours, idk.


Open Letter #2

Apologies to the 14 year old me.

I’m sorry I’ve done experiments with your hair so much – it was better the way it was and now it will never be the same.

I’m sorry I quit cricket – I know you loved it so much. I’m​ so, so sorry – studies couldn’t catch up with it. But you don’t regret it as much as you thought you would.

I’m sorry I didn’t use more of that cream on your scar or maybe I’m sorry I used as much as I did – because now, years later you’re still not comfortable with it and it pulls a stain on a lot of your relationships. But know that you’ve grown to accept that it’s part of who you are and there is no you without that scar.

I’m sorry I hurt that girl you cared about so much once you finally got her. You’ll know who I’m talking about in four years. That is something I didn’t mean, that was a mistake.

On the topic of girls, I’m… I don’t know. But you’ll understand what it’s​ like to not use your brain and hopelessly listening to your heart. You’ll understand what it’s like to fall so quickly for someone you shouldn’t.

I’m sorry that I didn’t live up to everything you and everyone else knew I could be. I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to make dad proud and making him upset about my studies. I’m also sorry that everyone else led to you to believe you could do anything in the world and be amazing at it because sometimes that’s just not possible and it has nothing to do with you or how amazing you are.

Lastly, I’m​ sorry that everyone is falling in love and you couldn’t do anything about it and I’m sorry your scores still aren’t enough and I’m sorry that I didn’t study harder because maybe if I did, it would have been. But you’ll get to know this ain’t your field of interest.

I’m sorry you lose with some of your friends without any explanation but it’s okay, really. And I know it might not sound like it, but you are so happy right now. You have that sister – like best friend, you stay up untill 4 am binge watching Netflix, you learn so many new games and you still have your Sheeran with you. You still have the coolest dad around, and you are planning to get your first puppy but mom wouldn’t allow.

Oh and most of all, you haven’t lost sight of who you are. And you never, ever can. Shine bright, you crazy diamond. I love you and everything you have become.

Open Letter


I don’t think you understand. I would’ve dropped everything, I would’ve thrown away my life to be with you.

On a rainy afternoon in the midst of a summer day, you and I were watching the winter is here. You were wearing a dress that your mother gifted you last birthday and I was thinking about all the ways I can make you get up for a lukewarm coffee, just the way you like; not too hot nor too cold. Somehow, you sensed my thoughts and smiled. You pulled me in for a brief session of unfinished breaths and a forever lingering around, just enough for you to wonder if ‘this is it.’ But, what if it is not?

I don’t want you to think for a moment that I am doubting all that rests between us at this hour of the evening. Each night, it is only your text that I look forward to. It bothers me still when your past keeps you awake, and on nights when I promise that I would sleep soon after we are done talking, I only close my eyes to see you in pain. There is this feeling of helplessness every time you tell me about nightmares I couldn’t be a part of.

It’s just that I cannot but think of a time when I would lose you. It feels terrible sometimes, but all that I talk about, I know how real it is to fall apart. I have seen it happen and so did you.
And it could happen again. But would that take anything away from that afternoon I made you see? It is real – my love for you. It would always be. Your voice would always be the one that could make me sleep through the roughest of nights, and I would always be the person to have convinced your mom to let you go for all the trips you tag me along with.
So if someday, you find this letter tucked inside a forgotten box of memories, remember. Remember how much it means to me, at this moment, to be in love with you.
Yours, idk.

The transient nature of life.

Sometimes, you have no answers for the questions that matter. You just stand there, in the middle of the night, waiting for somebody to come up and tell you that it’s going to be alright.

I had often wondered what it means to be sad. And I would wonder each time things ended, if this was what it meant to be sad person. Because to tell you the truth, all I want to feel for you right now is a sense of resentment but I cannot.

I get reminded of all the times that made me believe in love, the silent whispers of your heart talking to mine, through the randomness on a Saturday night. There were things that don’t always makes sense, but you know that  they exist somewhere beyond and that you need to know that they just do. I remember you telling me this when I had asked you for a reason. You had told me that you did not need a reason to feel the way you do.

But if you never need a reason to fall, did you not need a reason to leave?

It took me a while to forget people. I had long realised the transient nature of life. If somebody wanted to leave, there is little you can do to make them stay.

Sometimes, you have no answers for the questions that matter. You just stand forever in the almost and maybes, wondering where you could possibly go wrong. It goes right in front of your blurry vision, and all you can do is watching them leave through the gap between your fingers.

And when I saw this coming, I realised that even the sky had scars and I, was the only human to live with a few.


Have you ever found yourself in a situation where your mind sees your life to be perfect, but your soul feels all the way unsettled, just struggling to figure out what could be wrong? Have you ever stared blankly at the ceiling for hours together, with a lot on your mind, yet very little in your heart? Have you ever seen your closest person walk away, and you’re​ right there wanting to set it right but you’re utterly helpless?

How do you know you’re happy? Truly happy? And not just pleased with a situation or satisfied with a result?

“Are you happy?” is such a difficult question. I always say yes, because I have friends, I laugh at jokes, I go out a lot and have fun. My life isn’t as bad as it could be, and I don’t have terrible problems. It could be worse. Then comes the night, still awake lying in bed, thinking about life. I’m convinced that nobody likes me, or nobody will ever like the shy me. I feel horrible and I question everything I had and I don’t know if I was ever happy at all.

When you aren’t living for the weekends any longer, when a Tuesday feels just as worthy as a Saturday night and when you fall asleep easily on a Sunday night, that’s when you know it’s permanent!


Are all the colours in the rainbow enough to make you smile? My heart is yearning for something more. I’m jumping off the cliff without checking the landing, and you’re watching me with my poem at your fingertips. Your actions make me tremble. I’m begging you for mercy. Perhaps this is how we’re destined to begin : Me taking two steps forward, you taking one step back. I’m stuck by choice, and you’re keeping track of your every move.

Should you ever be caught off guard by the coldness of my heart, please remember that you did take one step back. At least you tried to save yourself (I couldn’t say the same for myself) Now we’re stuck by mistakes, waiting desperately for this veil of darkness to lift. This is how it feels like to be thirsty for light, for brightness, for hope. We can offer each other none of those things.

As you’re mining a way out to save yourself, and I watch your efforts hopelessly and think, perhaps this is how we’re going to end : Me always taking two steps forward, and you taking one step back. Have you ever wondered about the ‘later’ which never came?  If you’re wondering, there was a landing beneath the cliff – it wasn’t the kind I write poems about.


I notice you sitting alone across the cafe. You’re gingerly nursing your glass of mojito and glancing around the room before taking a sip.

Maybe you’re waiting for someone.

Maybe you’ve come with a friend. Or a lover.

Maybe you’ve come alone to drown your sorrows or some news that caused the wrinkles on your forehead.

Maybe you’re waiting to go back home to the arms of the person whose embrace has turned into comfort.

I see that ring clamped around your finger a little too tight for your comfort. I see you play with it for a while before you tucked the strand of your hair behind your ear.

I see the flicker of your eyes, your soft gaze against my curious hazel brown ones, just for a moment, and then watching them turn back to the glass in your hand.

There is something about you that I can’t quite place.

You’re stunning in a pair of casual jeans and that simple top with those flawless earrings. You are expectedly pretty.

You are beautiful in a way that doesn’t let me stop looking. You are soft. And warm.

Maybe if you wouldn’t have had that ring around your finger. Maybe I would’ve​ come up to you, asked about you, wondered if you’d ever consider me as someone you could love.

With first dates and your fingers brushing against mine on a winter evening.

With laughter and shared interest.

Maybe we would’ve made our own little world.

But beautiful people like you don’t fall in love with shy people like me.

Maybe we could’ve been more than just strangers.

But I promise I never would’ve been able to take my eyes off you.