Show your love with love,

Replace it not with gifts or money,

Like gold, it is most precious in it’s unadulterated form.



Sweet nectar drips down from between your lips,

And I watch as you crumble to your most primitive state,

An animal beneath all that mud;

From my body,

You pull apart the work of a hundred silk worms,

And I let it fall to the ground,

Like all my inhibitions.

I let myself read your body,

It’s beautiful uncomplicated language.


What happens to a tree whose thirst is not met?

Its soul meets the heavens.

That’s why I want to be a cactus.

I still will always need the water of love and validation,

But I am a survivor,

So deplete me of the river you so hungrily crave,

And watch me live on a drop.


Asifa Bano of Kathua in Jammu was gangraped and murdered. Her body was found 7 days later after she was lost. Her body was found in a forest. She was a muslim minority stuck in hindu dominated lands. Asifa’s father was not allowed to bury her body in the said lands and has evacuated for the fear of further attacks.


The boys in my class want to become men

They want to grow some hair on their chest

And feel the power of great men

Like a rite of passage, they drink and they smoke

And much to my chagrin

They glorify these vices.


Some nights I stay up to keep company to my thoughts

Those toxic things feel lonely when ignored for too long

Why does knowing one’s innermost thoughts feels like thieving from oneself?

Introspection seems to synthesize grief 

Self realization makes me understand how insignificant I am in this large world 

But I wait for my time

My time where all things end

My grief 

My life

My trance transcend.


I don’t think I matter much to you
So I try to not matter to you
But it’s really hard to make you not matter to me
But that is a whole other matter

Why don’t we speak anymore?

I always imagine a scenario where you ask me why we don’t speak anymore,

And I imagine my reply,

Replaying it over and over again,

Procrastinating on the words that are supposed to come out of my mouth,

“Why should I exist in your world, 

When you don’t want me in it?”

When I Think…

When I think, I drink from a pessimistic glass of water,

I think about all the blessings and all the happiness I’ve been surrounded by,

And wonder how my soul doesn’t absorb any of it,

How my mind is cluttered with the fear of enjoying it.


Just a personal experience I went through.
The title:
Mayanadhi is a malayalam movie famous for it’s soundtrack and it’s potrayal of a premarital love scene in a restricted community like India’s. Mayanadhi means magical river. The reason I chose this title is because I was listening to a song from this movie around the time all this happened. (Mizhiyil Ninnum is the song)

I feel my pulse to know I’m alive.

My wrists yearned to be felt

To let me know

My body lives

That it hasn’t lost the battle that my soul has

I feel my pulse to know I’m alive.

Don’t Go

I wish you never

Told me

You loved me

I wish I never

Pushed you away

To her place

Now you look at her the way you looked at me

Now I wish you didn’t listen to me