Fitting In

Centuries of untold stories bear inside you.
Yes, hear me again.

There exist centuries of untold stories inside you,
like the day you were born, how it was a perfect
and how your family rejoiced with your cries.

The scrape and bruises you got on your first sports day.
Your favourite album, songs, books, quotes
always residing in your heart from
the moment you’ve discovered them.

Why do you believe in God? Or Why you don’t?
The conversation you had with a stranger at 4 a.m.
on a random night and how it was nothing more than miraculous.

The struggles, the hardships, the downs and ups of your life
and how bravely you fought them.
Here you are with a medal on your chest
with no applause by your side.

The traces on your palm, your crooked smile, your freckles,
your scars which makes you more beautiful than ever.

Centuries of all these stories bear inside you,
and here I am watching,
Trying to fit yourself in 150 characters of Instagram bio.

Be better, babe!
-Abirami Pillai


2 : 41 a.m.

I look you with an awe,  
how lovely you wrap  
the sadness around you.  
You greet it, cry with it, sing with it  
and talk about all your childhood memories with it.  
I just wished you had same  
strength to wrap happiness too.
– Abirami Pillai 
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If only they knew

If only they knew dreams are harder to carry than regrets.
If only they knew fatherhood is as hard as motherhood.
If only they knew how hard it takes  for non-believer to believe in God
And those who believe, hardly pray anymore.
If only they knew that the loudest screams are somehow unheard too.
If only they knew the one who stands out tries so hard to fit in.
If only they knew that humans are capable of destroying anything, anytime
but still can’t save what we love.
If only they knew how ugly death can be.
If only they knew life is ephemeral and it isn’t definitely perpetual.
If only they knew this, if only

“The world would have been better than what it is today.”
– Abirami Pillai


There are things I can’t comprehend,
I scream them and ask to you;
“Why does my dream feels like a north star on a dark night?”
“The people I love seem far away, like a lighthouse in stormy sea.”

And then you silently whisper into my ears
“That’s how the Seafarer found his way to home, isn’t it ?”

-Abirami Pillai

Conveying Love

Conveying Love

Sometimes, it astonishes me
the way you convey “I love you”
without saying those words.

Like the extra juice can you bought for me;
when I clearly didn’t ask for one.

Putting on my favorite TV channels
even though the remote is yours tonight.

Giving up your sleep because I can’t sleep.

The pauses you take before,
you spilt harsh truth before me.

How I keep humming the song you hate,
yet you never cringe!

Even after years, you look at me like
I am the only thing you ever saw.

Love, sometimes it astonishes me,
the way you convey your love
Without confessing ” I love you.”

Can there be any better way than this
to profess their love, for someone?
‘ I don’t know, love; I’m still searching.’

– Abirami Pillai


Last night while returning home;
I saw a girl crying over the staircase.
I pretended to overlook her even though,
I could see her as clear as crystal.

She was mourning over the phone, I guess.
I think she lost something or someone.

This morning while commuting to work;
I stumbled upon a beggar; he asked for alms.
He was pale and starving.
His throat was parched for clean water.

I overlooked him too;
not because I  wanted to,
but I hardly had any money on me.

As a child I used to notice everything
but as a grown up adult , now I don’t notice things.
I always overlook them, intentionally.

What good is to notice things but never able to fix them?
– Abirami Pillai

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On a stranding winter cold night,
You stand below thousand of stars,
And beside you is little fire to keep you enough war.

Coldplay’s Sky full of stars is playing in background.
You don’t think about past anymore;
You don’t think about future too.

You just stand there and somehow you just know,
this is what you’ve been looking your whole life.
‘Tiny Infinite Moments’.

And that day, you don’t write poetry or scribble anything.
You, yourself become one.

-Abirami Pillai