“Going through purgatory wasn’t for you. My mind didn’t go bland to woo you with my will for purification. It happened in the lightest of moments where my mind contemplated. The staccato pulses in my veins shuddered with ill conceived notions; I had to let the interruptions fade away to welcome the delight of desires. ”
Izza ifzaal
creation by MUA .

Never Good enough!


Even in my early twenties, I still can’t decipher the attitude of people. Some might be pro in keeping the waters even but I can’t seem to master this art. I have had enough shares of brow beating, inquisitions and facsimiles. I can deduce that gnaring special place in heart for these people is next to impossible. You might curse yourself or feel bad about being a villain even if things change. circumstances become less excruciating. Yet why does this nagging pain of being a victim to such atrocities never end? Why does we welcome such nerve wracking audacity? Isn’t it a high time to be parable in such verbal assaults?

That believe to stand up for myself vanishes in Hades. It gets locked away in a remote corner of my heart where there is already cache of previous incidents. They trigger the devil in me wants to give them the taste of their own medicine; to be like what they want me to be; to be a constant pain in the ass.  The devil did turn the tables. It made me act self-conceited, unfathomable and disgusting. They started to loathe the face I had dawned. The face they patronized me to have. That face scrupled the moment I was done playing the lead of every story. I craved to play the role where negative will show the real me. The real me that once strolled in the world wasn’t enough. It could get raged or pin-pointed at. Even if it was exemplary; it still was never enough.

What’s the world out there doing? Your constant derailing or depreciation seems a trick to slay you off. Your stand on one foot and doing gymnastics to entertain them is not good enough. Your heart of gold that melts with their kind glance is never enough. Your devil-may-care attitude syringe a wave of nausea in them. Your love life becomes a talk of town? Your ill behavior shuns you to be a parallel universe. Is there for reconciliation? Is there a way to fight these odds? Is the soul in you recover?

Probably not! Your soul isn’t immortal. It is going to leave you in ashes soon. You are going to get buried in your own grave. You are going to answer for yourself. Your good will not go unnoticed by the Power. What they all do is their own freaking business? Dilemma is they are unaware of this breaking bad moment. They won’t live till eternity. They aren’t going to relish their jabs turning futile. They are going to alone grieve your absence. They will realize and then it will be too late.

Calamity is not on us to dawn faces.  Good or Bad- I dawned the both. Good was satisfactory- Bad was an agony. The mix of satisfaction and agony was way better than extremities.  The thought that everyone is going to reap for what they sow is comforting for now.

Ring o’ Roses..

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A ring of roses were there

Surrounding me with their exquisite

Fragrances every time I tried

Dumping them out from garbage of

My futile mind, fumbled in the

Thoughts which persisted on

Attaining a short term happiness

Based on my rules & conditions

Alas! I presumed being happy

For a longer period of time

Will demand giving up on

 Temporary decaying short termed goals

 I had been holding

Dearly, eagerly, psychotically, melodramatically

A ring of roses were there

Still enchanting me to let go of

Whatever I had planned to happen

Overlooking the simple fact that

“There is time & place for everything;

I can’t get everything beforehand

In the whirlwind of greed.”

Rectifying my behaviors & not

Grief stricken from my loss

I know time heals all and it is

Always like it should be.

(P.S Erika! Thankyou my guiding light! I dedicate this post to you. Your blogs are a treat to readers. You have helped me in ways to improve myself I never thought I could.God bless you always & forever)

Midsummer Vogue!

You kept me at arm’s length

Miffed with me over things

That were not in my control

As vivid as I got picturing a

Future vague and blur without

Your smirks, your playfulness

I didn’t feel myself wretched or

Mournful about you not there

Escorting me in my ill-advised plans

Or trying to command me

I rather feel smooth to get

Rid of the suffocating breaths

I had when you tried besting me.

Heedless I am happy being my

Own person who likes nobody

To tell her what to do in return

She won’t tell others what to do

Maybe, I will need to grow up

But right now I am fed up with

The tutoring like a five year old

So give me a break and let me

Be the Vogue I always dreamt to be.

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il_570xN.181859517It’s not simple, it’s not easy.

It takes a great amount of time.

It makes you question your abilities.

It’s what makes you focused.

It’s a blind fortune worth grasping.

It’s pragmatic but we consider it deceiving.

It demands attention like a seeker.

It makes us fussy for the future.

It smiles with affection for substantial.

It stimulates fears to become favored.

It’s like a charisma once discovered.

Its Stardust will give you wings.

Its requests you to surrender.

It’s a call to fame the jerked life.

It works you to save from ruin.

It’s there flaming in you with roars.

It you who need it, so listen close.

Embrace it with longevity to overcome depression,

Madness, hurt, pain, remorse.

You know what this stereo is?

It’s the key to peace called TRUST


At your disposal..

I am at your disposal when

You lay your feet at my end of

The bed to massage them so

You can have a sound sleep

After a rough hard day.


I am at your disposal

every damn time when

I see sweat drops itching

your face from the burning

temperature of the stove.


I am at your disposal when

I see you frowning with fury

with helplessness in situations

you cant seem to abide.


I am at your disposal

when you vouch to

listen to my rants I wanted

to keep to myself at first place.


I am at your disposal when

you need me as a knight

when things get a bit shabby

and heated.


I am at your disposal

to get a thrashing for

my bad mouth and demeaning

its what i ll deserve for sure

to learn to be level-headed.

(P.S: I wrote this for my mom)images (3)



It sucks to see when you explain your points to gain side.It sucks to see anger echoing from a little war of words.It sucks every time to expect a phone call without thousand words of complaints. It sucks why justifying every intention can call truce ; when action speaks volumes. It sucks how crude we become knowing what we do is so right; not even bothering to listen to other pleading even for miles.It sucks how we avoid confrontations because it will make us feel vulnerable.It sucks how easily you get dodged with tactics they make you feel like shite. It sucks how your words are intrepretated in a wrong way.It sucks how flattery can add up giving you a status of prestige. It sucks how you risk your repo to get a little adventure for yolo sake.It sucks how you keep needing some time to fathom a change around you. It sucks when you are a tired of meditation.It sucks to feel emotionless when tears dry up in helplessness. It sucks to get boiled by words shooting daggers. It sucks to be a show piece judged by observant. It just sucks to over think everything; to feel  & feed the shatan of over thinking. Some times I hope “It sucks” turns to “I don’t give a shite”…..

A Lil groove!

The songs playing on a loop in my head

wanted me to groove for a short span

of time over the shortest treasures

I held dear in life making me dance

synchronously with the beats going

the way to uplift my mood Fluctuating

In a randomization of Moments!

Getting a sudden jolt when the car stopped

I realized it wasnt the songs in my head

but in the car with a full volume getting

Me in the trance of full moon light pouring

It’s glitter in a crowded roads hustled

To drive rash through the highway with

A speed dazzling to make the night worthwhile. .

Am I okay?

Do you question me?

Or is it you?

Forcing words down my throat.

Cursing me for the loss.

Threatening me for the outcome.

Bitching about me upclose.

Praying for my ailment.

Naming me a demon-classed.

Wishing me endless melancholy.

Waiting for my justifications.

Considering me a foe.

Fracturing my sanity.

Then you tend to ask

Am I okay?

Do you question me?

Or is it you?

Causing me agony.

Stimulating my anger.

Befriending me to ruin.

Caging me to surrender.

Mocking my fears.

Predicting my tomorrow.

Passing judgements on my way.

Seeking shatan to sabotage me.

Professing adoration for me.

Then you tend to ask

Am I okay?

Do you question me?

Or is it you?

I am living each day

Knowing one day I ll get my way.

I won’t give a fig what you have to say.

Go spy & and let me sway.

Hopefully you will turn grey.

You are after all made of clay.

As time passes by day after day.

Go stumble on someone else tray.

I ll be more than happy for your decay.

You will learn what leads to prey.

Now don’t ever tend to ask

Am I okay?