Harsh Upadhyay hails from the royal city of Patiala in Punjab, India. He is currently pursuing PhD from
College of Technology and Engineering, Udaipur. With a mind clouded constantly with random thoughts,
Harsh, who is also fond of chess, tries to pen everything down to turn even the most mundane of things into his own little
masterpiece. He considers words to be an extension of his emotions, which he likes to articulate in an artistic way. The poet can be contacted through Instagram (@a_grey_life).
Acting as if I’m without integrity
My mimicry knows no limitation
Inspired by individuals too pretty
The inspiration becomes imitation.
When season gets cold and souls colder
Tears freeze before reaching a shoulder
Stories of summer feel older and older
And a weather of solitude starts.
I’m a weak voice waiting to be heard
Forgettable face and speech slurred
Attention is something I can’t afford
But silence will never be an option.
Traumatized, she returned home, with her soul shattered and defeated.
Her husband welcomed her back, in the chirpy way he usually greeted.
He told her to freshen up quickly and join him in the kitchen.
That him cooking tonight didn’t mean she didn’t have to pitch in.
But all she wanted now was to cleanse herself with a long shower.
Frozen arctic hearts
Caged in cold shells
Imitating elegiac eskimos
Icy igloos idling while