Perhaps. Just. Maybe.

’twas hard for me to walk away.
Well love, I thought
you might not have stopped me.
’twas hard for me to tear up.
Well love, I thought
you might not have held me.
’twas hard for me to be gone,
Well love, I thought
you might not have sought for me.

© 2019 _occultatum_

Please, take a moment. (It continues)

[Refer to the last post]

..and closer. Very slowly yet almost immediately. The man now was standing just a few steps away from her. Samaya felt the need to run or yell but she couldn’t. Something about his eyes kept her still. As if his eyes had clasped her tiny little hands tightly. She then looked at her feet, hoping that he would leave. Hoping that she could go back to think about the sun and the sky again or go back and hug Nieah tightly and never let go off her or go back to Amma (mom) and tell her that she loved her even in the moments she didn’t say it or go back and send a reply to her Abba’s (Dad’s) two nights old letter.

All this time the guy was just staring at her. He kept the box near her feet and kneeled down to her level.

“This isn’t mine.” Samaya finally muttered. The guy slowly held her right leg with his left arm and asked in a rather rough tone,

“Are you sure?”.

She nodded her scarf-covered head a little as she took a step backwards. Atleast what felt like a step behind but she barely could. Samaya felt something. Like a strong wave of panic or fear in her body. At last she yelled the words “Amma” but all she could hear was silence. The guy had covered her mouth tightly with his large hands. She struggled with her arms and legs. She kept kicking and tried hitting the man, but nothing. She tried running, but nothing. She tried screaming, but nothing.

A light drizzle had started and wind blew hard. The old big wrought-iron gate banged shut. Two months later they found her body. A seven year old now knows why roaming around at night felt like a nightmare.

Now you decide what or whom to blame.
© 2019 _occultatum_



Nirbhaya Case

A 23 year old female was raped and brutally murdered by six men while traveling in a local bus. One of the convicts was a juvenile who was sentenced three years of imprisonment.

January 2018

Kathua Rape Case

An eight-year-old girl, hailing from Jammu and Kashmir, India, was abducted, raped and then murdered by seven men. Out which one was a temple priest, two police officers, one head constable and one inspector.


Dr Priyanka Reddy Case.

A veterinary doctor in Hyderabad was found dead on a Thursday morning. She was raped, murdered and then burnt by four men.


As an atheist, as a young woman, as a human, today I wish that God exists. Because we need you.

Please, take a moment. (must continue to)

The seven year old Samaya was sleeping quietly whilst dreaming about the night before. She dreamt of roaming around in the city with her little sister, Nieah. But a little pittish feeling in her stomach woke her up. Was it a nightmare? Why did it wake me up? Was it the dream or someone came?
She outstretched her arms as she pondered over those thoughts.
On her left side Nieah was sleeping soundly. She had light blue eyes and dark brown hair. And Samaya could not go a day without her.
She kissed her and quietly tiptoed her way out of the room.
The sun looked shy, almost sad, as it hid behind the misty clouds. But still pretty. The little Samaya went outside in her long garment which covered her tiny knees and arms, and a scarf to cover her head. “Little cold for an October morning”, she thought as looked fixedly at the sky.
She walked a few steps forward towards the big and wrought-iron gate of her house which was almost too old to protect their house and lives. In the middle of the road, Samaya saw a tall-lean guy, dark skinned, messy hair with a smile which felt a little too big for his somewhat distorted face. He had a box in his hand and was murmuring something to himself while she just stood there. Shaking.
A seven year old stood there, just glancing at this eccentric guy, confused and afraid. She thought about turning and closing the gate but she couldn’t get her hands or feet to move.
“Beta (child) I found this box outside this gate. Is this yours?”. But Samaya couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. She felt the same pittish feeling that woke her up from the nightmare, was it? She wished to wake up or someone to come. But this nightmare was a reality, something Samaya might not have realized.
A seven year old might have not realized. He began getting closer ..

© 2019 _occultatum_

For my 24 year old self. Listen?

Do you still like the color gray/grey?
Do you still have short hair?
Do you still like your eyes?
Do you still hate the way your hands look?
Do you still hate the crookedness of your smile?
Do you still make excuses for not attending parties?
Do you still have those same fantasies?
Do you still think about that one ‘certain’ person?
Do you still hate the color orange and yellow?
Do you still don’t quite know why you hate those colors?
Do you still hate the combination of green and red? or yellow and purple?
Do you still have that memory box?
Do you still feel insecure about those few (3) people?
Do you still love pencils more than pens?
Do you still hate sunlight?
Do you still like August and October?
Do you still dislike March or September?
Do you still love winters?
Do you still save pebbles from places you don’t want to forget?
Do you still like leaves more than flowers?
Do you still hate to cry in front of people?
Do you still hate being vulnerable when around people?
Do you still like to remain unnoticed?
Do you still like going for a walk on a wintry night?
Do you still love the darkness of winters?
Do you still have the same set of friends?
Do you still can not pick up fights?
Do you still hate confrontations?
Do you still like the number nine or eleven?
Do you still love nights more than day times?
Do you still like the word ‘subtle’ or ‘often’ ?
Do you still LOVE kids?
Do you still listen to that ‘one’ song you love?
Do you still like to listen more than say?
Do you still write in your journal?
Do you still hate getting clicked?
Do you still go to hide in that ‘place’ when you’re feeling sad?
Do you still don’t get your eyebrows done?
Do you still feel easily attracted to quiet and shy guys?
Do you still hate the idea of splurging?
Do you still love the feeling of nostalgia and déjà vu?
Do you still read books?
Do you still like to write?
Do you still like space stuff?
Do you still love collecting memories?
Do you still like calls more than texts?
Do you still feel anxious in crowded places?
Do you still blog?
Do you still don’t believe in god? or karma? or destiny?
Do you still hate your nose?
Do you still like silhouettes just because.. you know?
Do you still dislike your voice?
Do you still talk to yourself more than you talk to people?
Do you still don’t understand why that is sad?
Do you still get scared when you hear someone yell?
Do you still get worried when you hear someone breathe heavily?
Do you still don’t understand homophobia?
Do you still find highlighters really strange?
Do you still like homely clothes?
Do you still dislike weather conversations?
Do you still don’t understand monthly anniversaries?
Do you still feel guilty for that ‘one’ thing?
Do you still hate yourself for that ‘one’ thing?
Do you still start almost every sentence with “I don’t know”?
Do you still like to learn about thoughts of different people?
Do you still get awkward in groups?
Do you still like math?
Do you still don’t understand polytheism?
Do you still curl up when someone’s about to hug you?
Do you still like being alone?
Do you still overthink?
Do you like yourself?

Not a Verse, But few thoughts #4

Whenever I read a novel or any book for that matter, I always put a star or at least mark the lines that makes me smile. It doesn’t have to be some big revelations or deep thought or hidden meanings or life changing quotes or the-lines-that-makes-you-wonder-why lines. It could be as simple as an “okay” or a “hi”. Oh you ask why? (hopefully)
It’s because, if someday or if one day, I give that book to someone and that someone when will fall upon those lines, for that half of a second
they will think about me. (Hopefully). And
they will know what makes me smile And
they will know the reason behind my smiles And
they will know what makes my heart happy And
they will smile too. (Again, hopefully). And
our reasons and moments and thoughts for that half a second will align. :))

© 2019 _occultatum_

Just stay a little longer?

I saw her walk away,
a little by little.
Bit by bit.
And a little while later
a thought escaped or
was it a beat?
I forget as,
I felt a tiny crack
in my voice or
was it someplace else?
I forget as,
I yell, “Could you, maybe,
Just stay a little longer?”.
As here’s the thing,
The sound of her whisper and
the smell of the rain.
The peck on my cheek and
the warmth of her lips
felt like fine
stardust, to this
heart of mine.
Ha, I guess it felt
a little lot, to let off.
Even for just one night.

©  2019 _occultatum_