Hand me the palette
If you can
I'm not a great artist
But I'll try my best
To colour the universe
inside your weary soul
In kaleidoscopic hues
Brighter than the rainbows
Of spring summer
And other verdant seasons
I'll try to revive
It's lustre back
Make the sun shine
As bright as I can
Scrub away
The clouds of despair
And the monsoon rains
I'll wipe with my hands
After I've accomplished my art
I'm sure I will see
your smile again
Your eyes will gleam
With boundless joy
And you won't even remember
What made you feel
So sad and desolate
In the first place

Yes, I do converse with all the crawling wishes that keep slamming me for never letting them stand and chase the dreams.
Yes, I do converse with all the broken dreams that linger on their shape they thought my deeds would provide.
Yes, I do converse with all the uncovered routes my feet still long to kiss.
Yes, I do converse with all the tough decisions I escaped that considered me gritty enough to not give in.
Yes, I do converse with all the choices I avoided where my soul found solace in.
Yes, I do converse with all the smiles I faked that had the elements of happiness a morsel or two.
Yes, I do converse with all the let go's that I could have stopped, grabbed, hugged and preserved, but I did not.
Yes, I do converse, and it keeps me going and it keeps me growing.
  -Aparajita Tripathi

Take me to a place,
Where promises meet the efforts,
Where sorrow meets the words.
Where complaint meets the conscience.
Where adulthood meets the innocence.
Where sufferings rhyme,
Where, even the the broken soul doesn't whine.
Where celestials I find solace in,
Where stellar healing is the ointment to each suffering.
Where tears stream yet soul doesn't haze,
Where in an open field of optimism my soul does graze.
Where happiness needs no reasons,
Where her loving tippet warms you in all the seasons.
Where the best thing I could befriend is my solitude,
Where the song of merry has no interlude.
Where every expression and word indubitably seem real,
That's the heaven or hell where the soul longs to indwell.

While they noticed the stretch of kohl in her eyes,
I could see a pacific of emotions trapped.
While they admired her blushing cheeks,
I could read the paleness she painted red.
While they were going gaga over her smirk,
I could fathom the depth of pain that debarred a hearty gale.
While they were lured by the cascade of her hair when she unscrewed the bun,
I could feel the onus of the tantrums she wanted to turf out.
While they were hypnotized by her mesmeric curves,
I was stunned by the withstanding efficacy of such a fragile body.
While they adored her attire and scarves,
I could trace the bruises she carried with poise.
While they were hung up by the glory of her face,
I could do no help but ride out at the scars she concealed with sprightliness which was the most beautiful thing my eyes could ever have a view of and it left me dazed...
And my mouth wide opened.
-Aparajita Tripathi

Yes, I'm a girl and I'm not trying to justify my body language nor am I positioning the rights of a feminist on the top, but
Yes, I was questioned always, even when I was right.
Subservience was legitimized as my trait ever since I felt this world.
Every time when I was buckled under by his lecherous eyes, I was asked to adjust my dupatta well.
Every action of mine substantiated the height to which I'll hold the name of my family.
I was asked to cross legs while sitting, speak amicably, yet not solitously.
Every time I'd to hide my period stain like a ****** blot.
I was asked to gallop my cramps because letting it out is a bitter sin.
Yes, I get my body scanned by their lewd gaze day in and out even when I put my baggiest of clothes on.
Yes, I'm a girl, and I have beautiful synonyms, call me maal, patola, bomb, *****, *** or a girl? May be, let yourself decide.
Yes, I'm questioned on the extension of the Roti's that I make and the smiles that I couldn't fake.
Yes, I'm a girl and I'll stand, and question your authority if it calls for, call me stubborn. Okay!
Remember, I'm a girl, and if you accuse me of being a feminist if I know, and can raise my tone up and against your authority, humanism needs to be checked then.
-APARAJITA TRIPATHI