Mar 29, 2017

Surrenders and Dead ends

Very long ago, I wrote a short fiction piece called 'Flailing Arms, Quiet Surrender'. Today, I found myself with a follow up, and decided to try a new direction to this story. Comments welcome.


It was a dead end. He had failed.
And so had she.

When he met her all those years ago, he heard her, felt her, and found comfort around her. She closed him out but he was determined to heal her. Only... his determination faded faster than his t-shirt.

He hadn't realised it would be this tough. Or this emotional. There was history, so much history, behind all her complexities. And with every page he turned he got terrified. "Maybe I will only make it worse." "Maybe I can't handle this. She needs someone stronger."

She had started opening up. Revealing secrets. Sharing fears. She was starting to believe he was strong. Maybe strong enough to stay. And rebuild her. She would rebuild him too. She hoped to patch up his insecurities, his fears, with smiles, words and a comforting presence just like he had done with her.

He didn't want to be rebuilt. She was patching him up and he feared getting lost. Losing his past. Slipping away from the sharp edges he loved to toy with.

What do you do when one side of the sinking boat tries to float and find the sky, while the other is eyeing the seabed delightfully?

The boat broke. And so did they. She lost sight of the sky, always hiding from the light and never to try to float again. And he found his seabed, familiar and welcoming, dark and deep.

 - ©Haem Roy
March 2017

Jan 28, 2017


Scents. They imprint themselves. Not just with their whiff, but with their stories.
They become a part of us. They take away a part of us. And store it with them.
They take us back in time and bring alive memories as fresh as dewdrops.

The scent of the floral soap in the bathroom where you grew up, reminding you of the early mornings for school and the towel whipping your long hair received after a wash.

The scent of antiseptic taking you back to the ‘stumble’ in the playground which left a scar on your calf that hasn’t faded.

The scent of mustard seeds and curry leaves as they crackled in the pan to bring alive feelings of anticipation, eagerness, hunger.

The scent of Gulmohar flowers squashed upon the road, turning the path red. Just like the one you lived on as a child.

The scent of mogra flowers bringing back the prayer songs to your ears. Close your eyes and you can feel your grandmother’s touch once again, holding on to her pallu at the temple.

The scent of musk and sweat, blending with your emotions and taking you back to the tizzy of your first kiss.

The scent of freshly brewed tea with sprigs of mint, taking you to the little tea stall on the highway and an hour long conversation with a stranger.

The scent of an old book can make you nervous again. It holds the entire library where you spent the weeks just before the exams.

The scent of fresh ink, little love notes scribbled on tiny paper that made your day.

The blended scent of marigold and grass and you can almost taste the salty tears from your first heartbreak at the park.

The scent of smoke and perfume, and nights half forgotten. Music and lights, friendship and frenzy, adventures and regrets.

The scent of that deodorant. Used liberally on the trip of a lifetime, with hours spent in the train and on the road.

The scent of you. Bottled in my head. Locked away in my mind.

The scents linger. The scents never go away. The scents will always stay mine.

 - ©Haem Roy
January 2017

Jan 21, 2017


When the rug was pulled from under her foot
When she fell flat on her face
She lost her perfect face to the scars
She gained a drive to perfect her mind
Her losses are what made her

When her world turned quiet
And she found no music around
She lost the rhythm she was swaying on
She started creating her own tunes
Her losses are what made her

When the room turned empty
And her shadow walked out the door
She found no one to laugh or cry with
She learnt to laugh and cry for herself
Her losses are what made her

When she looked down at the the edge of the ledge
And saw only darkness below
She couldn't find her way forward
She lit a flame within her and enjoyed the height
Her losses are what made her

- ©Haem Roy
January 2017

Nov 5, 2016

Shooting stars

Wispy eyes
A sheet of mirror
A rippled lake
A universe within
Stories that orbit
Bringing light or darkness
Floating across misty paths
To known and unknown lands
Mirages and illusions
Flashbacks and foresight
Look at the stars out from hiding
Some flaring across like fresh comets
And some sparkling their brightest before they fall
Make a wish.
A tear rolls out.

- ©Haem Roy
November 2016

Jan 11, 2016


For A. Go chase your dreams.

Be afraid.

Be very afraid.

For your fear will chase you to the very end

And make sure you don’t turn back

For your fear will haunt your dreams

And make you stay awake to bring them alive


Be afraid.

Be very afraid.

Like the earth fears the seas that can consume it whole

Like the earth that never lets the sea consume it whole

Meeting it at the horizon to travel together to infinity

And ceaselessly emerge from oceanic depths to gaze at the sky


Be afraid.

Be very afraid.

For without the fear you will stay rooted

For without the fear you will stay safely tucked in

The wind will not be able to shake you

And carry you to lands unknown


Be afraid.

Be very afraid.

For failure will find you no matter where

And it is best to be introduced in a merry tavern far away

And laugh with it before you start another journey

Than find it on your couch uninvited and unannounced


Be afraid.

Be very afraid.

Your fear is what will make you

Find yourself like never before

And face yourself like never again

Your fear is what will push you off the cliff.



Be afraid.

Be very afraid.

And Carry a parachute.

- © Haem Roy

December 2015

Dec 8, 2015


Far apart, weaned away
Distance keeps me from wringing my own heart
As it lunges and flails and sulks in a spotlight
As I encase it in steel and bubble wrap
Distance shields for storms are aplenty
Don't jump in the tornado
Don't wish to be swept off your feet
Build the bunker and hide underneath
Let the distance keep you in the dark
Darkness that lets me not see ahead
A blind step, fumble and fall maybe
Yet saved from knowing 'the known'
Distance for the short sighted
A blur of possibilities
Mirages, realities, hallucinations, dreams
A heady mix heaped into one
Don't tell me what's real
Don't show me the truth
Let my denial guide me forth 
Lest the facts fence my path
Distance is practice for the poker face
Keeps the heart away from the tray
Nothing to meddle with a straight face
Nothing to muddle with a straight head
Who said an ivory tower is evil
When it can never let your mind and heart go far astray!

- © Haem Roy
December 2015

Dec 1, 2015

Two red giants

Two stars wandering 

Unnoticed in the galaxy around

And yet they found their way to each other

And yet they were handed a path entwined


Two stars entwined

Orbiting each other

Liquid fire pouring across the galaxy 

Flashes of light burning away the skies


Two stars burning together

Unbound by planets, unattached to moons

A playground of constellations to choose from

A celestial hide and seek with darkness


Two stars chasing darkness

Centuries spent avoiding collisions

Lost in a limbo, swallowing all in their way

Parallel streaks blazing in tandem


Two stars in tandem

Growing wild and untamed

Unabashed unafraid underlining the sky

Inseparable even in their abandon


Two stars inseparable

Turned red and blazing

All set to shoot across sprinkling wishes

The red giants ready to explode, combust all at once


Two stars combusting

Destinies entangled, fated to fade together

A deep breath and all turns dark

One a supernova one a white dwarf becomes

- © Haem Roy

November 2015