His Perfect Family Photo

after a while he realized

he can’t fit me in his family photo.

in the frame that was just for him

and his loved ones.

and there was no room for me.

my friends in West say it’s impossible

and I tell them it’s just another eastern thing.

good boys, the ones immensely loved by parents,

do not say no to them.

a good boy never presents to them

a girl who would dearly loves him.

he would rather break her heart

than to hurt his mom, dad, brother, sister,

aunt, uncle, neighbours, society, God…

and llist is so long.

so yeah I couldn’t fit in his 6×4 frame.

I can dress up in colours.

I hate and he loves.

I can cook the food he eats.

I can be a clown and juggle



his family,

his children,

his love,

his mood swings,

his coldness.

but clowns are meant for stage.

clowns don’t have place to call home.

so when I saw

I can never be part of

a perfect family photo,

I left.

West would never know the pain,

and East would do nothing to stop the pain.

– Huma Adnan


When Love is New

Remember when I said, no matter what, how many times you do something, or try something, you can never create the ‘first moment’ again, you didn’t like it. I said any love or friendship always offers us the new vibes when it begins. We experience something which sweats our hands, increases our heartbeat, takes away our appetite and still it gives us this ‘lovely’ feeling that never comes back once the hearts and thoughts are exchanged. Today we like the immense care showering upon us, and tomorrow the same person will be nothing but a suffocation. Today, we will find ourselves appreciating every tiny thing they do for us, but tomorrow it would go unnoticed. When love is unsure and new, we give hints to them and wait for the signs with goosebumps. When love is all ours, we find it hard to express feelings. Today we are leaving everything and rushing to see them, tomorrow we would be thinking million times if to see them. When Love is new it’s charismatic, so take it as a perfect coffee, because who knows tomorrow your coffee will not taste as good as today.

Today our coffee is cold. Love has become a sand of an hourglass. Our conversations have turned into masquerading smiles. ‘The first magic’ is gone, and both of us are quietly watching our souls turning into ashes. I am running around in insanity, and telling everyone who seems to be in love, ‘if you are doing something to take their attention today, make it a ritual of love.’ No reality comes again, but if love happens, don’t kill it. Nurture it.

NB: Google Image

I have been a clown

i don’t say

hopes shouldn’t be

associated with

new beginnings

and a new trail of

365 days.

i say,

what of those

who get tears

instead of chocolates

on the eve of

thirty first.

those who rather getting


find themselves alone?

how shall they embrace new year

who realize a few minutes before

the firework show,

that there soul is already set on fire

and their love was just

a clown juggling

to entertain some people.

what resolutions should

those be making

who find their heart


in hands of

the sea of selfishness.

i saw questions in the eyes of


who gave one last chance to


and asking me

why the last person too

had to be one of those

who had crushed their hearts.

and i say,

embrace it!

and you will heal.


i don’t know

since i have been ripped too

while juggling bottles

on his blue, white, green days.

p.s: i gave away smiles

and now i carry wounds.


Screens and Circles

We are bunch of lonely people.

Desiring what we see on screens.

Making idols out of

Fashion magazines,

Couple goals are on facebook pages

And the perfect families

Exist on instagram.

We pick them,

Worship them,

And then

Burn in our own desires.

Without knowing

That on the other side of the screen

The fire is stronger than ours.

The hide-the-worst-and-display-the-best

Game is keeping this world in circle.

But then there are some

Who don’t fit in the circle.

People who walk in a queue

People who stand in a line

For water

For food

For –

There is nothing more they want.

While you and I

People of circled world

moist our eyes

Thinking we cannot afford

A holiday in Paris.

The humans who live in straight line

Are at peace.

Because they don’t own

The screens

Which can set hearts and homes

On fire!

P.S: I don’t own the image.

You left behind

You come back

Once in a while to see

What you have left


I would never

Give you a pleasure to

See the wrecked soul

Who was broken,

Torn apart

And crushed by you

In name of love.

But let me tell you

You have left behind

‘stoned heart’

Who breaks those

Who approach it.

They say

Damaged people

Either end up

Damaging others


Keep damaging themselves.

I have chosen former

Just like you.

I break

Everyone who approaches.

The air told me

You are curious why I have

Peeled my old skin.

I have changed my hair

Into purple-

Undressed my wounds

And have pierced them with


So that each touch of yours

Can hide beneath

The glitter-

Any fragrance of you on my skin

Go away with new skin.

I am leaving

Everyone behind

And embracing things

You hated most.

Look what you have done-

You have taught me how to drink

And stay sober.

Huma Adnan

NB: I don’t own the image


​Last night my friend called me 

And before I could have said hello

I heard her sniffing,

Like a rain pouring against

The glass pane.

Hey sarah! Are you okay?

I sounded calm like a sea,

Since this wasn’t the first time.

She cried.

Last week it was for a cat she found

Dead by the roadside

And week before that

It was the death of her favorite


From a series.

What is it, hun?

I asked while pouring the milk

And balancing the phone between

My ear and shoulder.

I am in chaos

In utter chaos.

So this time she couldn’t find the reason to cry

I thought to myself.

I cleared my throat and began

Why don’t you have some sleep.

I can’t!

She cut in before I could have showered some wise words.

I feel!

I feel nothing!

I feel unwanted!

I feel unloved!

I feel broken!

I feel like I exist but I do not!

I breathe but I suffocate!

I- I –

This time I cut in-

Hey! We all love you!

It’s just the product of your mind!

It’s 12 am

And you have a long day ahead!

Pray to-

Pray to??

She lost the temper

And threw words out

As after this eruption

Volcano will be dead!

I called Raj, he says

Pray to Krishna!

I talked to Jane

She says, pray to jesus!

I texted Hassan and

He answered

Pray to Allah.

Tena said I should

Believe in science

And let a psychiatrist do the work.

But who knows what I need??

Alright! I sighed!

Well sleep now and we will figure this out


she put the phone down

Promising that she would go to bed

And leave the mess out of her head.

Proud of myself

I decided to eat a cookie

And while munching it I

Smiled- what a great Friend I am!

New morning

New sunrise

I head to work

With mind so light!

I let my fingers

Dance on keyboard

Until I checked my phone

In afternoon,

“Hey you got the news?

Sarah is found dead

In her room!

I logged on my facebook

And wall filled with her photos

Posted by mutual friends

Who she hardly ever talked to.

With the caption RIP

And I felt my blood gushing through my ears and

Bursting my heart

I wanted to scream

You say


But what difference does it make now?

We all need some attention

And on virtual world

The death news of neighbor’s dog

Can get you more likes than you get on

A photo you click with your boyfriend

Or the chocolate cake you had

Last Sunday.

While they get hearts

And thumbs

And sorrowful smilies.

I sit back quietly


I somewhere know,

I ripped her!

But I ask myself

What Sarah actually needed

that religion and science

Couldn’t give?

Nomads in Circle

In his soul

I poured mine.

Heart rode on the waves

Untamed and wild.

And charade became

Impossible to hide.

I confessed love

And he was silent.

I started to walk,

He held my hand

And repeated my words

With addition of ‘too.’

I believed it.

My particles,



All became his.

Without my consent

My each cell, tissue and,

Organ was falling in love.

I was me,

But I wasn’t.

He was mine,

Yet he wasn’t.

In return for my love,

I was given



And care,

But love.

He had loved

And he had lost the spark.

No matter how high the flames

Of my heart were,

He couldn’t love me back.

He couldn’t call me home.


We both are nomads.

I, in search of him.

He, in search of her.