Ignite my body with your spirit
I am here in a fight to free my screaming soul,
Trapped in the door to your dramatic heart.
Chasing the experience of my young self
The look that goes hazy, it’s scary,
Free me, For I am in a hunt for the sun.
Amid a foggy, clenching fire, an unfair deal,
Find me! Here, the city feasts on my body,
Slowly, I fade away.


-Roshni Rajshekhar Nair



मेरी कब्र, तुम्हारी आँखें,
उनमें समाधि के लिए, हम प्यार करते हैं,
बस एक बार के लिए, हम दो बार मरते हैं.
डूबता हुवा सूरज, जैसे चन्द्रमा के लिए
काले बादल, जैसे भारिश के लिए
हमारी हर प्रार्थना है आप के लिए.
संग उनके चलने की हम दुआ करेंगे
ज़माने को छोड़ उनके तरीके सीख जायेंगे
इरशाद, कभी किसी शायर की शायरी में, हम उनमें  मिल जायेंगे.

 -Roshni Rajshekhar Nair

Sky High

Let me paint you a life across the sky,
To view it you’ll have to spread your wings and fly
Jump through that canopy and use it as a ladder
Through those rough winds, you might have to push a lil harder.
But look at this image, painted in red, orange and yellow, 
Like that breeze of the ocean, warm sun and the tone so mellow
My love, Let me paint you a life across that sky, 
Together, where you and I, will eat, sleep and cry.

Roshni Rajshekhar Nair

What is your answer?

“London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers and idlers of the Empire are irresistibly drained.” Sir Arthur Conan Doyle describes London as a great pool of blood, and human waste, that he, a free man was naturally gravitated to. The British empire of which London was (and still is) the capital naturally attracted all kinds of people. But then again this was a picture painted of a Dickensian London. 

Like Sir Arthur, my attraction towards adventure brought me all the way here to the soil of Shakespeare, the rich, the poor, the expensive, fast-paced, London. And as I sit on my 3/4 double bed and glance at my duvet spreading, which ironically is an image of London’s view points, I wonder if London has always been a question with multiple choice answers to it. In the silence of this night, through that tiny window of my room, I still hear the racing bikes, probably young men chasing the night sky light. Afar from here, I glance over those tall, gigantic, man-made buildings, where you go to spend half of your lives, 9 to 5, every day, so that you can afford to pay the tax, the rent and the living of this mighty city. As I jot down these characters displayed on my screen, it’s 22:11 GMT and these man-made architectures still have their lights on, no humans around. It’s much of a satisfaction to think that these people, after a long day of work have gone back to the HOPEs of their lives, their family, their friends, their pets, and some to themselves. And like every other day the cycle of their 9 to 5 jobs continue, but even in this hazard Londoners lead their lives royally on the days labeled “BANK HOLIDAYS”.

London, A place where a cup of tea is like a sip of water, chips is a staple diet that you eat with anything and everything, beer, the nation’s favourite drink, where the pigeons have more sass than you, sarcasm is your everyday language and love is your religion. Multicultural, festivals, pubs, some other words describing this cesspool. Where differences are not tolerated but celebrated, love is kind and compassionate, people are more than just polite, they are caring, an act of random kindness is the homeless guy feeding a dog, humans opening up their homes to the needed, whenever and wherever in need. London, a place that just asks your participation. So coming back to this 3/4 double bed of mine, a heater on the side wall, which I barely turn on, I ask myself again, London, a question with many multiple choice answers, What is your answer?

Splatter of Crime


And seconds after that movie, I sat to write this song
A few flickers and a heartburn later, It all came along
With deep words stolen from the dictionary,
I drew him clues to play Pictionary,
I bled on that keyboard trying to rhyme
For my free-verse seemed like a crime
But then again, if only he understood the meaning
Hidden behind, I could only think this screaming
Lies upon lies that we feed each other
Piles upon piles of emotions draining through a gutter
Splatter of crime dripping down the wall
From far across I hear the siren, but I still stand tall.
Shorter than history
A murder And a mystery.

-Roshni Rajshekhar Nair


Take a peep inside my damaged soul,
I know you think it shines like gold.
Look into these eyes, Riddle me this,
Solve my delusions with your kiss.
Trapped inside, Teach me how to love,
For I need to learn to rise above.
This ladder of life, that I need to climb
Show me, for without you I cannot rhyme.

-Roshni Rajshekhar Nair

To breathe life into my Soul

Like a parasite, she crawled beneath my skin,
Into my life, the demon in her dancing,
With the angels of my existence, Meddling,
Trembling, Suffocating, Clenching her fingers,
She pulled me closer, To breathe life into my soul.


-Roshni Rajshekhar Nair


Love, I’d love to be in love with you.
But I do, I do dream to be with someone else too.
Curse me, for in this room, here, I only think of you
But believe me, I say, We are meant to be Two.

-Roshni Rajshekhar Nair

Life #7

And I loved, like I’ve never loved before
And I lived, like I’ve never lived before
And I was, my being, like I’ve never seen
To love myself, Was to love indeed.

-Roshni Rajshekhar Nair


Tired mammal
With battles many
Victory few, Friends none
Stumbled, fumbled, troubled, struggled Soul
Be at peace. Time is near
You are now weak, though once notorious
Farewell. I beg you run. Alarming winds call
You have no place to hide. Emptiness follows you
Your glorious life is here towards the end. Into Oblivion.


-Roshni Rajshekhar Nair