Looking at all those,
Who love chaos,
Who set captions as 'sunshine mixed with a little hurricane' ,
Who are proud of being a mess,
Sobriety sat back in her rocking chair,
Gently sipping her cutting chai,
Mocked at them.
Many a times,
People mistook her as an introvert,
She questioned herself.
She questioned her dignity.
She excelled in conversing ,
With confidence, with graveness.
She was an extrovert but not a chaotic extrovert.
She liked arranging her sentences
With the correct metaphors , similes and oxymorons
And present them with perfect pauses.
Oh my,
She could mesmerize people with her conversations.
Being people pleaser 24*7,
Charisma was her thing.
A head-turner , a sweetheart
That's what others called her.
But then sometimes ,
She became a maudlin.
Something pulled her back.
People took her for granted.
Sometimes even she wanted to answer back,
But then ethics , she thought.
Kept quiet and weeped.
Forgave and moved on.
Her self respect was hurt ,
But then ethics, she thought.
She got jealous sometimes,
When Attitude stole her thunder
She liked being under the limelight always,
Didn't approve when dudes were the center of attraction.
She wanted to snap back.
But then she would lose her dignity,
Ethics again she thought.
She was smart , but
Attitude was smarter.
She was bold, But
Could never challenge Attitude.
During school days,
They used to get along well.
But being the people they are,
They drifted apart.
Attitude bullied her in High School.
She used to bear it all.
She sobbed silently in the corner
But wore a smile on her face all the time.
Reminiscing about those days,
Gently sipping her cutting chai
She wipes a tear away.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 10:22 AM UTC
Questions unanswered ,
Blanks unfilled,
I had many
But somehow,
Society could fill them all.
Who destroyed me ? Why did they?
I never knew
The moments of unfathomable pain, i knew
When they smacked me,
Shredded me,
Devoured me.
But somehow ,
The society knew it all.
Judgemental I call them,
Skeptic the society prevailed.
For them, imbecile
My blanks pertained.
Obvious Consequences
Of hints I gave , they said.
Consequences of attire
And behavioral patterns, they said.
Whoa, Is our society for real?
Only one blank unfilled
For the society remained.
Section 228A was their complaint.
Such narrow-minded hounds, I exclaimed.
Justice tried to fill my blanks.
Could he ? I asked again
Shamefully , he took his eyes off.
Could my blanks ever be filled?
I asked again
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 10:21 AM UTC
Are shadows always faithful?
Dark and empty.
Dynamic and fragile.
To light a candle they say,
Is to cast a shadow.
Which dances merrily
In accordance to
Projections of our associations.
Which makes me ponder
What about silhouettes ?
Vague outlines as if
Someone dreamt an empty dream.
And reflections?
Blurred images of who we really are.
Without their own stance,
All of them
Owe their identities to light.
But then,
What's the whole point in existing
Without a self crafted identity?
All of them share congruence
Busy weaving
Misleading mirages of hopes
Or a mere oasis
Of dreams and dust.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 10:20 AM UTC
They say,
I'm naive
I have never been in a relationship,
True that.
But still,
I perceive myself to be a hopeless romantic.
'Cause I'm kinda old school
For whom holding hands and
Soulful conversations mean much more
Than tinder dates and flings.
If I love you,
It would be
without clauses and pauses
Without tears and heartthrobs
Without terms and conditions
Without turpitude and regrets.
But
With roses and dates
With gifts and cheap thrills
With eye-contacts and telepathy.
With commitments and acknowledgements
With purity and transparency.
Call it cheesy,
But I call it romance.
Chase sunrises and sunsets with me.
Share your craziness with me.
Come for a stroll by the Marina with me.
Run your errands with me.
I'll be contented in my pseudo-utopian world.
But,
If you break my heart,
'Cause I'm kinda fragile,
I'll reminisce the times we spent,
The playlists and long drives.
No, i won't abhor you.
I'll cry in pain.
No, i won't curse you.
I'll sob in vain.
As your emotions turn turbid
And you become opaque,
I'll walk away
With despair.
And tethering emotions .
They say,
I'm clueless about love
I say,
Come out of your own
Stereotypes and idiosyncrasies
Love ardently.
Not based on infatuations
And momentary crushes,
Not based on your
Whimsical intuitions
But on your
Steady fidelity.
Because there's beauty in this
Adventurous venture of sensations,
Juggled by impulses.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 10:19 AM UTC
They asked me to stop spiralling,
As I tried explaining them
Repeatedly,
How Uncle John hurt me,
Whenever he paid a visit.
Cajoling me,
He slid his hand
And tightened the grip,
Stalled for several hours,
By narrating Vikram Betal stories
And then offered me, my favourite toffee.
Chewing it, i tried forgetting the pain.
I would be
Victim-shamed throughout my life,
Due to our historically intense patriarchy.
Everyone would drag my name through the mud,
So they shut me.
Stepping up against him,
Would jeopardize my life
They thought.
According to their theories,
I was just another irrational feminist.
So they left me,
To live with it.
Haunting me every minute, every second.
It became my worst nightmare
And like a leech, it fed on me.
As they turned oblivious to objectivity,
Trapped in their pseudo-realistic minds.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 8:08 AM UTC
On some days
I am like the butterfly.
Vibrant and colourful,
Fluttering my wings
Not settling for anything bland.
On some days,
I am like the firefly.
With my pulsating charm
And flickering lights,
Mystifying the people around.
On some days,
I am like the rainbow.
A triumphal arch across the sky,
Between paradise and earth
Enticing dreams and musings.
On some days,
I am like the fire.
Wild and rebellious
Setting social evils ablaze
Leaving behind chars of
Stigma and stains.
On other days,
I am like the human.
Unceasingly aspiring but frivolous ,
Submissive but woke.
Contained by social media validations
And archaic judgements;
Finding my way
Through different thoroughfares of life.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 8:07 AM UTC
Airports are fascinating places, aren't they?
With the arrival and departure sections,
Having their own stories,
And their own embedded algorithms of emotions.
They intrigue and intimidate people,
Intensifying their emotions
Which gives them
Soft sobs of despair and regrets
Fighting the turbulence inside.
Or
Thrills for further endeavours.
With all goodbyes and welcome hugs
Filling the arena with
Beads of sweat decorating your forehead
To get past security check-in,
It's a journey in itself.
So I ask again,
Airports are fascinating places, aren't they?
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 8:06 AM UTC
Overlook the fragile hourglass figure
Beyond corsets and pseudo-beauty rules,
Endorse thy curves and stretch marks strewn,
The dusky skin and frizzy curls,
Braille like pimples on the face
Discoloration, bumps and pores;
This Body shaming, I shall pass.
Writhing in pain and humiliation,
Drenching in rage and insecurity
While I lie,
Society curses me
Defining and redefining my chastity;
'T was the crop top, the alcohol and the sly behavior.
You set the monster free and blame the ****
This Victim shaming, I shall pass.
Beige and ebony;
They call me names blatantly
Betwixt skin color and bleached smiles.
Laugh and scoff all you want.
Harass the Black, detain them,
Prejudiced minds rule your dystopian world.
This Black shaming, I shall pass.
Without creating a labyrinth of stigma,
And seeking refugee in collective blame,
Let's construct our utopian world
Acknowledging all freaks and flaws
This Shaming, we shall pass.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 8:05 AM UTC
Looking at the waxing moon,
I hum softly one of our favorites.
Blowing smoke rings,
You look up at the starry night;
Counting stars and trying to figure out constellations.
‘It's an Orion’ you say,
Breaking the silence of the night.
I look away, skipping stones into the brook.
As the fog settles over,
Your Orion disappears beneath.
Distracted, you pick up your stranded ukulele
Adjusting the broken strings, you sing
“Apki nazron ne samjha;
Pyar ke kabil mujhe”
I chuckle at the parody.
Writhing in trauma,
I resent your poignant emotions.
Even after years of distress, you thought
You had me cold.
I shudder, brushing my vulnerability away.
Embracing the empty fog.
You lie down on the grass.
Sheathing myself from the toxicity around,
I leave.
Apr 10, 2020
Apr 10, 2020 at 8:02 AM UTC