As my secrets grew, They weighed me down. There were not even few, Who saw me drown. My only outlet came, Through a paper and pen. Till poems became, The secrets I tell. Veiled with metaphors, I can cry my heart out. The feelings I had in store, Now have a voice so loud. –Nameera.


The story behind my hair.

People always wonder what makes me do crazy stuff to my hair. From extreme color to extreme haircuts, I’ve probably done it all. The last time I remember having really long hair reaching my waist was back when I was 11. A year later I got a really short, above shoulder length layered haircut. TillContinue reading “The story behind my hair.”