Skeletons in my closet

Tucked away carefully

Behind all my embellishments

Are some skeletons from the past

Threatening to expose their ugly heads.


While all the world around me

Is my familiar stamping ground

To the closet dare I not go

Afraid of what might come out.


Yet who has been spared

The demons of their past?

I may never go to them

But they come to me at last.


Where to I run now?

Where can I hide?

When what was to be hidden

Is visible in plain sight.


It is all crumbling down now

The facade I had carefully built

And helpless, I lie here waiting

For the dissection to begin.


They are coming to me now

With their piercing words

They have hitched me up on a stake–

It is my turn to be burnt.


Oh, it feels like a nightmare

But wait, a nightmare it is–

There are no stakes or arrows here

Just me squirming in my sleep.


Thankfully that was just a dream

How I hate this cursed sleep

Where can a decent man in this world

Find a few hours of peace?


But it is all okay now

There is nothing to worry about

The skeletons are in the closet

They haven’t come out.


Later in the day today

I will go to the sea

And throw this closet into the water

Where it can be for eternity.


That sounds like a good plan

That’s how it shall be

Then everywhere I can go unabashed

Except maybe the sea.


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About Me

Nehaan in Persian means ‘secret’ or ‘hidden.’ In Japanese, the same word means ‘nirvana.’ In these pages, I will make an attempt to explore, and if possible, partly or fully reveal what lies hidden from our view in our day-to-day lives. The path will be characterised by a certain lack of method which I think is characteristic of human intuition. I write and shall continue to write only when inspired to do so. This also means I might occasionally make forays into varied fields such as science, music, philosophy, language, linguistics and poetry, to name a few. I hope this would not put off new readers and tire the old ones! But who am I to complain–even the lovers of fine wine feel repulsed by the first drop and still, quite strangely, dizzy by the last.

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