Certain things emerge during the moment of transience where I quietly slip into poetry and broken words.
What have you been stacking inside your case? Forgotten letters, tragedies of the past, and war cries?
Why does love need an expression? Why can't we understand the person we love without them saying anything?
Chaos and calmness, that's how we define a woman. She is a dreamer, she is the one who weaves stories of reality. She is a metaphor for peace and war.
Places have memories too. This poem is based on a place I visited in Vishakhapatnam, 'Kailashgiri'. Astounded by the moment spent and the beauty I penned down these words.