O lover

Sharing that supernovae space with you

Led me to a mischievous sleep which is

both hard to fall in and even harder

to wake up from.

but to your chirpy noise,

I flutter my eyes to catch

a clear glimpse of you,and I find

you,in front of me,smelling of

jasmine,and the

blossom of your

lips compel me to extract

all its sweet juices and now

I find  myself

staring at you,and then your

face close to me,while I enjoy

the touch of your

heavy breathing,

you surface the velocity

of my hefty heartbeats.

To which you chuckle,

your crooked teeth smiling through,

and the crinkles on your nose make

a beautiful pattern,

your cheeks crimson red,

and after a long span of seconds,

I finally catch my breath again

and I heavily blink,

opening up to see that

you were,well,

GONE .

{this is a fictional piece by umm me, and this is written with the perspective of  a man for her lady muse}

There has been enough writing of the self or of circumstances I have often found myself trapped in,I think that the time now has come,to write about people who often go unnoticed in your lives,it is like oxygen,like you are always breathing,the blood is always flowing,the blood is getting oxygenated and then de- oxygenated and it gets purified,and its in your body,and you know it,you are breathing and you know you are,but we don’t really pay close attention to the flow of breaths we inhale and exhale,and that’s what is keeping us biologically alive and we know it,but how much importance does the breathing get,how much thanks,how much attention?
As I’m writing,believe me when I say that ,I’m not pausing,I’m not making things up,I’m not even thinking rationally or sequentially,I’m simply typing onto words that describe my very beautiful,my very  epitome of sacrifice and suffering,my very solitary reaper of freshness ,love and care,my very own – Grandmother.

No,this is not her biography,this is not about describing her,this is not only about thanking her even,this is about telling you all that I am deeply moved about how she is ,I fail to realist what she is actually made up of,I mean,a woman in her 80s ,of course a woman of a different era altogether,she is supposed to be an orthodox woman in her late 80s, aware of her approaching years,and sitting in front of the television watching serials or mythological shows or the very beloved babajis on air and hardly getting out of her room and ordering her daughter –in-law to get work done and medicines presented.
This is quite ironic to how we often stereotype old ladies to be. But let me make it clear,my grandma is highly different. And just like I firmly say that I’m going to remain as the ‘ Different Misfit’ ,different from a lot many out here,in the most weirdest angles,but I got this from my granny,apart from the misfit,she is an old,weak woman,she is short,and her hair has still managed to not get older,I think her hair know well,what suits her appearance,she has good brown-orangish hair, and not to forget,her charismatic blue eyes,eyes to fall for. She keeps her hair tied in a neatly made bun and drapes herself well in decent looking saris. No lipsticks,no makeup,no perfume,no sandals. She chooses to be her natural self,in her chapals. Only accessory to her will be her purse. And with purse,I mean,not the blinging  purses,but the small pouch type of  purse,she keeps around her waistline,cutely tucked inside her sari petticoat.She is a magical figure,at least to me.
‘Granny,I’m here.Namaste.’, I said as I reached her place,while she was mopping the balcony floor.It had rained heavily.
She first didn quite seem to hear it,even though I was very loud and pitchy. I saw her mopping, the door was open. I repeated my greetings.
‘ Namaste. Here you are,my child!’, she replied with a 100volt smile pasted on her beautiful face.

I am happy that my mother was able to convince m to go visit my granny,that Sunday,because I was going to have my economics test the next day,so I refused at first,bu then she managed to take me there.I’m glad, I did.
She is in an age that you can never tell how much time one has got,and all you can do,,is live the day like its your last,I think this has kind of become the motto for my grandmother. She walks like a snail. Slow yet gracefully.She lives in Lodhi Road. She lives alone.The house is massive. There are 6 rooms in that particular floor where she lives,the ground and top floor too connected with the first.The ground floor is occupied by a family of 4,a kin to my granny.while she stays on the floor above,she is expected to be with herself only. My maternal uncle,my grandmother’s eldest son,lost his wife a few years back,he has two kids,big enough to go settle in Mumbai.My uncle has been a headache for the entire family because of becoming highly psychotic and depressed,that clearly reflects in how things have become ugly with his relationships.He moved out to Noida after the demise of my late aunt. I don’t remember the last time I saw him interacting with people of his family,let alone my granny. They are like sort of reclusive now.Although my granny wouldn’t still mind him coming to reconcile with her or talking or offering a shoulder,even after what all she has been through regarding my uncle,my uncle refuses to lock eyes with her.Well,that’s a different story altogether.

My grandmother lives alone,in such a big house ,where two families of 4 could easily accommodate themselves.the winds blowing enter the rooms that are empty and unlocked,and rap my grandmother in nostalgia ,but she stays strong.family photographs hanging on the walls,Pictures of Rhino,their late dog,finding its place on the walls,reminds her of how the family was,and always sans her.Yet,she  is stoic and sturdy and never did she complain on these little details.
My granny has had a beautiful relation with my mother and her three daughters ,they are always there for her,its like after my granny has understood,that her daughters are now mothers themselves,she has realized,that she no longer needs to be on their head anymore,so my aunts and my mom herself is paying back to her,as being the reverse mother to her.It is a beautiful relationship they share.I sigh.

She got us tea and some snacks.She prepares them herself,despite having somebody to offer to help.She sits with us and talks and narrates news that she has got from here and there.She left the room when all of a sudden,out of nowhere my uncle pops up for some paperwork urgency,we greeted him,but we didn’t exchange anymore words.He leaves after a few minutes.

I was reading ‘The wedding’ , because I was sure,I was going to get bored because there was no sibling around,My dad was busy reading India Today and mom was accompanying my granny in preparing food. They later went to the terrace to see the traffic go by and have a good talk. They love to talk, trust me.While my mom carefully instructs granny to stay strong and be alright,I notice my grandma trying to control her tears,you could just make it out from her ****** expressions,her hands,quietly folded over another,and her head bowing down,she has never been confident and assertive,I had correctly judged.I ad overheard them talking,when I was passing by the room library searching for Sidney Sheldon.And that was when my respect for my granny grew,because in an age liker hers,the very innate ability to hold on,that perseverance,the  strength ,the power of forgiveness ,I mentally touched her feet and hugged her,because I was in no mood to disturb her conversations.I passed by.
I was learning each moment. In that house,I have been a lot of times before,but this one time,that Sunday,I was feeling like home,like a school moreover,in a moral science class all night. I was done with my economics revision,and it was time for diner.She had prepared Hot chapatis and my ever favorite Paneer for the dinner.She paired paneer with yoghurt,that was a new yet crazy combination,I tried and I was enjoying it,not because it was THE combination,but I felt like it was her idea of how food tasted, like she always felt curd could fix everything,not potentially everything,but,It’d be stupid to object her.
The dinner was tasty.
She cleans up the entire house herself. Like I said,6 rooms and a balcony,is not a small thing.it is one strenuous task she agrees to take up,not occasionally.but everyday.She refuses to take a house help,despite her health conditions,because she wants to  utilize her time or pass time in some way or the other. TV is the only source of color in her life.That keep her occupied. I salute you,granny.
I offered to do the dishes that day,but she saw me doing it,she came half running,half walking to stop me from doing it,and said this doesn’t look good,the guest doing it,and I was a princess to her,she asked me to step back,and I did not revolt,I knew,she did not have anything else to do except do them and sit and watch the sky and finally sleep . I stepped back.
I was reading my book,and there’s this part,when Noah shares that he still feeds the swan because he thinks Allie is the swan and she promised him to be there with him,so she finds her way through the swan.And I saw myself crying.i rushed to the balcony.Took a few deep breaths,sobered myself up,and a few winds blew,and I felt nice.
My granny was talking with my mother while my dad was listening like a puppy.i was reading,I could barely hear what she was talking about,and I didn’t want to even know what were they talking about,because the more I knew,the more anger built up,and the more I’d get sentimental and feel sorry for my grandmother.But no,she is not the one you’d feel sorry for,she was never wrong,and she isnt,and wont be,she is just a simple figure,an epitome of sacrifice and suffering and with such patience to be jealous of.We offered her to come and spend the time with us,and  all her other daughters and her grandchildren,but she refused,she wanted to be in the house,take care f the house,she was just so emotionally attached to the building that had lost its meaning,it was just a HOUSE and nt a HOME.she wasn’t made to feel it was,she had no reason,but she still loved it there.

I still wonder,while I’m writing here about her today,she wont be able to read this gift I am giving her,giving her love back,what would she be doing? No,this isnt T V  time,maybe making tea,what after it? She cannot read or write.She cant be on the phone all the time,then what? Maybe just sitting in the balcony? But today,its hot . then what? Just sitting on the couch,watching my grandfather's portrait hanging on the wall,I think she’ll brush off the dust on the garland and the painting maybe. Or she’ll re arrange the sofa covers or curtains. I don’t know. While we have so much to do,while people forget people everyday,while people make new friends,have so many tings to look forward to,we have so much access to **** our time and pass it away,but she ? she just stays this way and she just exists.

It was time to leave. My respect level for her had gone par average. I just wanted to stare at her for hours in silence,or maybe play with her,or maybe teach her pronounce some swaggy English **** words,I do that when she is at our place.She loves it with me.

Hmmmm.

As we were walking downstairs, I tried and rush and pause and rush and slow down again and again,to whether escape the moment,of the farewell,because it’d be hard,I could bet,and slow down so that I could see more of her.i just couldn’t get enough. In that moment,I swear,I loved her like a man loves a woman.But ine,was much more passive or hidden,I have always had issues with expression,and I regret that.

She could climb downstairs,the steps were steep and endless.She stayed there,while we went down,she bid us a goodbye,waving her hands like the flag of love ,like saying ‘ IT WAS GREAT TO HAVE YOU ALL HERE,I FELT SO BEAUTIFUL.YOU JUST FILLED THIS GAP I THOUGHT I’D SUFFER THIS WEEKEND.THANK YOU SO MUCH,I LOVE YOU,AND I DON’T KNOW,IF I SEE YOU AGAIN,BUT PLEASE BE IN TOUCH,AND LOVE EVERYBODY’. BUT SHE SAID ‘ bye’ .A  LONGER,STRETCHED VERSION OF BYE ,THOUGH.

It was dark,I saw her waving,I was waving back,so was mom and dad,mom and dad rushed forward,while i was till bye-ing my granny. I thanked god that it was night time,an nobody could see the tears gushing down my face. While we leave in 3.she bids us adieu in just 1. Years ago,she’d be with 4 others,and now she is just single. Alone.By herself. Still not complaining.NEVER.

I wiped them .My tears,and was crying till I got into the car,people saw me weeping maybe.I sat down.Still sobbing. Trying not to let people or mom and dad precisely notice my tears ,and I wasn’t brave enough to tell them that I was crying because I thought it might be the last time I saw her or how a wonderful woman she is.The wind was blowing hard and cold on me,while I was listening to Dead hearts on the phone.like the universe was conspiring in making me cry my guts out . My reverence for that woman was getting higher and higher beyond measure.At the traffic signal,a little girl comes up to me,my head was leaning back into the car seat,like a drunk Peter van Houten,while she leaned against the car window glass too,I think she was the only one in the entire night,to actually see me crying,she smiled. I smiled back. She glanced at me for a few moments,I was still smiling at her,she asekd me if I had money,but I wasn’t carrying any then,so I said ‘I’m sorry’ without speaking.She understood and she smiled and left.Slowly and gradually the wind helped me in evaporating my tears,so that I didn’t have to manually wipe them off,because just in case,mom saw me doing that,I wouldn’t know how to respond.
Thankfully,I fell asleep in the car and as I reached back home,I felt a little lighter,I called up granny and informed we were home safe.[ she always wants us to inform her when we do]  And she very sweetly said good night and a bye and then I thought to myself that HOW COULD SHE BE SO GENTLE AND NORMAL? I WAS SO JEALOUS OF HER RESIGNATION.I LOVE YOU GRANNY.
With a heavy heart and a new day to follow and with less percentage worries  of the test the next day ,and more of how my granny would pass away the time and sleep with a smile on her face ,I looked at the walls,said my night prayer and rolled my eyes,and went off to sleep.

There’s no place like home... except Grandma’s .
cc

It is funny that as a scientist,my only experience of time travel has been your - *perfume

Days have passed,
I sit and stare,
At the phone,
But why do I care?

You came like a shooting star,
You never promised you’d stay,
I pre assumed it for myself,
That you wanted me and I granted you may.

I was such an idiot,
To give you my all,
I gave you till the brim,
To face this day,when you shall never call?

I still try and flush you,
Out of my mind,
Sometimes It works,
But its not that im blind.

We were like a candle
Spreading light,
Our faces glowing so bright,
We were happy,we were kind,
You flickered it,
What a plight?

O' thee mastermind
You tried to end this
On a note you sound guilty
Gratefully,you had a girl like me
I made sure you don’t feel filthy

******
PITY

These words keep creeping me out
My demons take your side
They come ina stride.
They say I ,myself am a doubt.

I neverdenied not giving
You what you always craved for
I had some rational reasons,
Your tendencies grew more and  more.

My kisses are all that
You wanted
My skin is all that
You longed to feel
With your lascivious eyes
I permitted you to see me
I don’t know you actually saw me
Or saw through me?
My hugs are all you wanted
As a hallmark to our thing

Oh lord,why on earth
Did I fall so hard for a guy
As pervert as you,
Bcus all the reasons why
Left me
Were mere reasons to please your pal.

I was meant to be crushed
You planned my stampede of emotions
Yet,I gave you the key to my heart
And allowed you to rob me wholly?



OH,HOW VULNERABLE WAS I?

Bcus we never
Got physically
Intimate,just like your best friend had,
I was ridiculed and punished relentlessly,
Till I could badly corrode.

You were corrupt,young man!
You are a delaer,**** it!
You hollowed me,I’m empty!
This void that spaces me out
From merry people,kills my insides,
Alas! My murderer for love/boys
Shall never be convicted,for sure.

Rather I’d invite you to the
Cortege of a young
Girl you once
Pretended to love,
And ended up
Suffocating her to death,
Not entirely though,
She still lives,
Partially.
She still fakes a smile.
She still forces a laugh.
Assures herself,she ‘s mature
Enough to go on.
YES,I’m half way there.

But all of me
Loved all of you
And now,when a part of me
Is turning into smoke,
When I dreamt of ‘I dos’
Today I pronounce you
‘guilty as charged’
For hurting me so hard for
Not pleasing  your greedy senses,
Leaving me so
Unpalatable.
When I look at myself
In the mirror
Not that I used to smile everyday
Looking at my reflection.
But this day,
I glare at myself,
Parts of me you wanted to
Touch,
*****,
Feel
And smile.
Im left disgusted, do you even realize
I feel like a ***** *****
how I used to get ready to please you,
and you never appreciated it?
Yeaahhh,now I get you,you never
Liked me with clothes on,isn’t it?
It feels like
Getting ready
To be your meal
Satisfying your hunger
Am I that puerile ?
That silly?
I poured  these things
from me to you
And hope
they will suffice .

I hold you guilty,
Yet release you
Bcus again thankfully,
You were once loved by a girl,
You felt was naïve,
Is strong enough to pardon you,
I don’t know if it’s a
Blessing or a curse,
But hwat I had was true,
And all this time your feelings were strew.

Disgusted,
Definitely,
But certainly,
Not
Destroyed!

WE all have our places in this world.
I do,too.
I , am the rotten apple of the basket
.I stay in the basket too long,
i tend to ruin everything.
thats my place in the world.
that was supposed to be my identity till my last breath.
like the identity of my love is to unscrew him,
for my doctor is to do what no one else would,
for for HIM ,it was to smile and make the world
a better place.
its what defines us.

But that day when i had decided to do three extra shots of ***** and five extra drags and three snorts of ******* and then passed out after a seizure ,i  didnt know i would wake up to a new morning and to a new identity . i was in pain,in considerable pain,and there was just one person who still smiled at the rotten assemblage of human tissues that i had become,that person was him.a guy with the brightest of smiles and the biggest of hearts who didnt think anyone was bad inside.and for someone like me who has ten thousand layers of bad before the slightest of goof,it meant a lot.What would have happened had i decided to do that one month later? who knows ? i would have died,thats for sure.But i would have died a bitter,angry girl.**** am i happy now? will i be happy five years from now ? i dont know.Do i thank him for saving me? YES. do i feel good about being saved.? again. I'm not so sure.why should i be happy just bcus i have few years more to live,why should i be happy becausee i have more time with my parents? why should i be happy because my folks wont grieve ? For HIM,these questions,were the answers.Then why didnt she get those last few breaths? that extra few years?

AS i look at the empty bed next to me and the missing books adn the absence of his chirping laughter,i feel the world has permanently become a little darker,a little sadder.All i remember of him are his last words to me ' I'll be back.It will be okay.'
Well,he lied.I dont think i am forgiving him for that.Not now,not ever.

He left us behind to miss him,to yearn for him,to find things to distract ourselves from missing him.he is not there.he is not around us.i will never see that smile.he will not be on the next bed trying to irritate the hell out of me.he will not talk till my head bursts into little splinters and then irritate me some more.i have not me his doc Zaarah,but over the last few days i have heard stories. she told Arman that she was sure she he smiled at her long after her heart rate dropped and the lifeline drew a flat line on the monitor and the doctors failed to revive her.Armaan tells me that zaarah had spent the night at the morgue standing outside his frozen casket bcus HE was afraid of the darl.he tells me she had to be forced out before she could catch pneumonia or something worse.she tells me how every night Zaarah comes to both the room and terrace where they had gone for their first date.She tells me how his mother had fainted when she came back to our unlucky room no. 509 and how she  had to be pulled back from his bed by his father. He tells me his father looked like a walking corpse when he heard the news.he tells me how both sets of parents had cried arm in arm.he tells me how his dad comforted my crying dad,when i was battling for my life while their daughter was dead. Arman tells me that his father has nt said a word since the day he passed away on the operating table,lying on the side with his back cut open and a smile pasted on his face.it was painless,he tells me.

Does knowing that it was painless make me feel any better? it doesnt. he was no stranger to pain.he was strong and she would have picked pain and life any day over comfort and death.people like her arent meant to die.they never die bcus people never forget them.did he give us enough moments together? he would never have been able to even if he had died a hundred years later.people like him just dont live that enough. No matter how long,how fulfilling,how painless their deaths are= people miss them.Like i;miss him,and i hardly knew him,we werent even friends;we were roommates.



He dies. I live. I cry. Where is the sense in that ? i didnt even want to live.I thought the procedures,the medicines,the doctors and the drips were nonsense.all i wanted was to get injected with a few extra CCs of morphine n my drip and i'd pass on the next world,painlessly.i didnt want this.i hated pain.i have done everything i could find,to run away from it. i used to numb myself by injecting and snorting everything i could find.nobody wanted this. How do you think i will feel when i look at his parents,childless,grieving at his loss? how do you think i will feel when Zaarah crosses my path? We were in the same room.Same room!!! how difficult it was to have our fates switched ? how wrong can god get if there is one ? We were right there.how could he not see?

did i find a donor ? yes,I did. It was him. the perfect match.we were roommates.

But thats not the only thing he gave me. 15 days after my surgery wen i was shifted back to my room,the bed next to me was empty but for a little note on top of it.I opened the note which said.

' you were the best roommate ever.Now we're even. it 2-2.Dont waste it'
I cry.

I dont know
somehow i find
every other person
except me
happier than myself

they may say
'we've got issues too.'
but i say
i've got severe  problems
even minor ones
attack with
a great intensity

I'm going to turn into
a loner
a psychopath
a *****
a neurotic
and nobody will be
able to do anything about it

only will they realize
when its going to be
too late for treatment
and i'll sit and see
and not utter a word
coz each word of mine
is nothing
but malice,
hurtful.
if i myself,am so miserable,
how do you expect me to
tell you happy words.

i might fake a laugh.
i can try and camouflage my insecurities.
but i dont
promise to
eliminate the from the core.
coz now its inscribed
on my skin
in my mind
in my soul.
The flaws arent my problems.
being talked about
by your own
parents
who claim to be your
only true ,family on earth,
ridiucle you
for minute,ill purposes.

mom,and dad,
now
EVEN YOU?


u n f a i r

I'm done breathing.
Its like mainstream to me,now.
I wanna switch off the light.
and not be able to see the sunrise
tomorrow.
I never wanted to make a guy
overpower my sensibility.
but there you go,
as if things have gone
the way i planned.
I got *******.
big time.
Affected the whole lot of me.
I'm trying to try my
luck
with flirting,
No,I wont cheat
on you.
I'm flirting with death.
this way
I
could
never
e-ver
cheat on you.
hope its okay?

Lets get back to how we were.
and not how you're planning it to be.
please
No.
Lets never finish,
what we once started.
lets make this for life.
b'*** I,
I might as well,
wait for forever.
If that means,
I might have you.
Like we were.
And not how we plan
To be.
No.
Please.
Presence is not all that i need.
I need some more.
I have you.
but I dont have YOU.

idk
enlighten me
somebody just told me to do that,but its hard to swallow.

...... but
they
          dont
know
                      me

YET ......

“I’ve never been lonely. I’ve been in a room — I’ve felt suicidal. I’ve been depressed. I’ve felt awful — awful beyond all — but I never felt that one other person could enter that room and cure what was bothering me…or that any number of people could enter that room. In other words, loneliness is something I’ve never been bothered with because I’ve always had this terrible itch for solitude. It’s being at a party, or at a stadium full of people cheering for something, that I might feel loneliness. I’ll quote Ibsen, “The strongest men are the most alone.” I’ve never thought, “Well, some beautiful blonde will come in here and give me a ****-job, rub my *****, and I’ll feel good.” No, that won’t help. You know the typical crowd, “Wow, it’s Friday night, what are you going to do? Just sit there?” Well, yeah. Because there’s nothing out there. It’s stupidity. Stupid people mingling with stupid people. Let them stupidify themselves. I’ve never been bothered with the need to rush out into the night. I hid in bars, because I didn’t want to hide in factories. That’s all. Sorry for all the millions, but I’ve never been lonely. I like myself. I’m the best form of entertainment I have. Let’s drink more wine!”

I'm Writing you,
Cause there's nothing left here
For me to do
But please know that
I'm trying to make up for my mistakes
And you're moving on
With guilt and  memories
But I was wrong
To ever test us
This broken chord of
our music
is more than I can take

So this is the way that
I'll tell you
That I'll leave you alone
if you want me to
But I've had enough of this life alone

I'll give it up this time I know
I don't deserve to tell you
that I love you
There's nothing in this world
I'd take above you
I'm dead inside
Bring me back to life.

So,its never that late
to show you who i'm
to tell you that i care
and i know
you too wanna love me
and i know you'll understand
that i could be your
*'missing page'

I've always lived inside a shell,
But i want to be free and
fly,
I've always felt like i'm nobody's,
but all i wanted to be
was everybodys',
I wasnt hungry for fame,
but deprived of love.
I still am.
I always thought i could
never be loved,
but i always badly
needed it,
I’ve always asked for
Recognition,
Because I’m never
Appreciated,
I’ve always called myself a loon,
Because I think,
I think too much dirt.
I don’t think im pretty,
‘cause from near,
When my demons are visible,
I see myself
My ugliness
Reflects,
Comes back at me.
More hatred.

When guys say , “ oh you’re so pretty,
You can get any guy you want!”
I shatter,because I think
They pretend and lie and repeat.
I don’t always get what I
Crave for,
Nor do I manage the relationships.
Or maybe they don’t see the real,
‘ugly’, ‘crazy’,’silly’,
Me.

I don’t see any bright light,
Darkness blurs my vision,
As if morning
Is still asleep,
Causing me more
Blindness.
But all I wanto see is
A ray of hope,shining at me.
For once,
I want to be called actually pretty,
Hot,cool,amazing,
From someone who’ll mean it and
From the one
I’d be able to believe.

But I am not sure
The pseudonym I choose
To live with,
Would let me
Accept what I am wishing for.
…….
That’s my issue,
I’m locked in this personality-cage.
I need rescue.
Save me from rage
Wake up.
Smile..
Fill another page

No matter how much i talk of love and how obsessed i'm with romance,and love flicks.and how much i need somebody who loves me to the core.as soon as i have it.I cannot take it.I crib when he compliments and crib when he doesn't.and a lot more serious and stupid stuff.

I'm so stupid.That this disorder that i have,has separated us today.
and i know,tomorrow,or some days later,i shall cry for wanting you back,bcus i am incomplete and alone.But,well,lets face it. I gotta deal with my emotions. how my mood and emotions and feelings fluctuate.so its better to stay outta this pure fantasy named LOVE. Because not everyone get what they aspire for,and definitely hot messes like me,dont deserve being in love or being loved,
NONE OF THE GOOD THINGS IN LIFE
my crazy,super crazy,miserable,chaotic life.
cheers to my trouble.
so please.dont come close to me,dont love me,dont look at me,i need help,and maybe you dont realise just how much i really need it.i dont wanna spoil you with my ill behavior.
I thanked you for being an angel  2 days ago.and now i never imagined,i will be bidding you a long Goodbye.forever.

I'm the girl who is lost in space, the girl who is disappearing always, forever fading away and receding farther and farther into the background. Just like the Cheshire cat, someday I will suddenly leave, but the artificial warmth of my smile, that phony, clownish curve, the kind you see on miserably sad people and villains in Disney movies, will remain behind as an ironic remnant. I am the girl you see in the photograph from some party someplace or some picnic in the park, the one who is in fact soon to be gone. When you look at the picture again, I want to assure you, I will no longer be there. I will be erased from history, like a traitor in the Soviet Union. Because with every day that goes by, I feel myself becoming more and more invisible.

And you were like
an angel in disguise to me.
out of nowhere
you dropped your sparkles
on me,
saying
I
love
you.
and it made me travel the moon
&
back,
with my delirium and faded zest
transforming to
thrill
and glow

i,thankyou,
today.

[11w]

[13w]

It is absolutely alright for a man to flaunt his sexuality. It is completely normal if he is an ostentatious flirt. But should a woman behave in the same manner, she is ostracized and is called a harlot. Is it wrong for us to have carnal pleasures? Why is losing one's virginity a matter of pride amongst men and of shame for women? Is it so incomprehensible to the world that lust is but a physical manifestation of love?

[6w]

Your smell
Deer musk
I’d search all my life
Your eyes
I see myself
Looking at you, looking at me
Your teeth
Visible now
Through the window of happiness
That is your smile
A blank sheet
A love letter
My cry for help
Where are you now?


                Your smell
          Lost in the air of hatred
            You run through my veins
                     You’re under my skin
Like the most delicate petal
      Of a wildflower
          You were gone
                With the wind
                      The chimes didn’t ring
                               No Christmas this year.



My love letters
Mere blank pages
My cry for help
Where are you now?

Why do i always have to be told
Though indirectly,
but told,
so ******* sarcastically,
with those irritating grins and giggles
'' you know what? you should take part in the beauty contest "

When all i know is that
they have a good reason to
make me feel so on cloud nine for a minute
and down crashing on the ground
with a thud,when i sooner or later
will realise,
no, I've got scars, I've got marks, I've got bruises,
I've got frizzy hair,I've got a skinny bodytype
I've got ordinary clothes, I've got no good pair of heals,like you do.
I dont have the talents to put
makeup on..
duh.


You know it all too well.
i know it,too.
Still,you wanto say it on my face,so that it hits me harder
the time I see myself in the mirror wearing clothes
i feel will make me look alright,just alright.
and then i enter the classroom
seeing all of you guys to be staring at me,
saying,''pooh,you look awesome''
I know why,i know it.

And then as more chicks start to enter,
All I'd want would be to tear my outfit from the middle
throw it away,
rub off that kohl I tried to roughly apply
to kinda accentuate my tiny Asian eyes.


Because all of you guys
look so **** perfect.
so gorgeous.
so rich.
so what we say CLASSY
so IT.

When'll I be enough?
am i always gonna wear those nerdy glasses,
slick back my bangs from my forehead
that hides my scars ..
wear the oversized, boring sweaters,
and pants and shoes,and with books by my side .
Am i never going to be like y'all?

that others want to be like.
who look upto them.

when someone'll be like, ''i wanna be like her"
Can i never be that 'her' ?
can i never get a compliment?
Can i never hold the crown?
or that sachet ?
or the flowers?
or the teddies?
or the hamper?

NO?

i must rather abide with my
unlucky,
hopeless,
shady,
dusky, good-for-nothing
weird life?

Can i never make something out of it,
with my appearance appreciated?
even from people who matter,
from people who live with me
under the same roof?
can ,for once and for all,
i be made feel
enough............
?

You come and go
like fragments from a  garbled dream.
A dream long forgotten
A shattered dream.
You knock on my door
and run away.
Tap on my windows,
like playing
hide&seek.;
Banging on my walls
Lunacy overtakes me.
you slip in with the wind and
tease me.

You seesaw with [my] reality
then,i catch your glimpse
in a broken mirror,
a cracked heart
and a memory.

you happen,then un-happen
like love
like ecstasy

you're the reality all night long
and then a faint memory

I know
I think too much.
I know
I maybe talk too much.
I know
I maybe dream too much.
but why even a single ,tiny,
thing I ask for.
A thing I want.
a thing that wont just end the stock,
is taken away.

as soon as you find a guy who is so gentle to you and you like how he talks and
when you begin to dream,
day dream,i must say,
he asks me,are you taken?
and obviously,I'm proud to be taken.

He just ends the talking.
is it too mean of him,or i prolly think too much.
and then all my sandcastles fall like the ashes of cigarettes .
and i watch it join the other sandgrains,
never gonna happen

can i please be like her?
for a day.please.

it smelled foul.
it then
rot.
and then ruined.
its now stitched.
gates are closed.
see you later. about turn. some other time.

[4w]

the symptoms to bipolar disorder correctly match up to my current state of being.
NO.
I'm scared

Yes
this happened again
oh please dont blame me
your harsh words
are still echoing in my ears
yeah,I'm a celeb
the third grade celeb.
no one cries for her
someone used to
but I'm certain now
Nobody will ever do
Was that all?
Am i so bad?
the answer is.
ermm
yeah.
Right?


Did i just happen to me?
When i think about it
my eyes shine so bright
into sorrow and pain.
thats all what i had?
nothing do i mean?

Oh no,I'm not lying.
I used to live an isolated life.
i guess now i have to go back to it.
I'm broken into torments.
do you see that?
never did it happen before
but yes!
Someday someone had to get rid of my trashboxiness
That was supposed to be you,maybe

A small hill had to become a huge mountain
just like on misunderstandings.

Nothing i can say
my sorrow is latent
you cant see it
never did i expect this from you.
i wish it never ends
your actions.
hurt me.
your words
b
r
e
a
k
me

your silence
K I L L S me
your ignorance Dissapoints me

just one question to answer.
why me?
guess those words were right.

my friends .oh,there are no friends.

People always want to know what it feels like, so I’ll tell you: there’s a sting when you first slice, and then your heart speeds up when you see the blood, because you know you’ve done something you shouldn’t have, and yet you’ve gotten away with it. Then you sort of go into a trance, because it’s truly dazzling—that bright red line, like a highway route on a map that you want to follow to see where it leads. And—God—the sweet release, that’s the best way I can describe it, kind of like a balloon that’s tied to a little kid’s hand, which somehow breaks free and floats into the sky. You just know that balloon is thinking, Ha, I don’t belong to you after all; and at the same time, Do they have any idea how beautiful the view is from up here? And then the balloon remembers, after the fact, that it has a wicked fear of heights.
When reality kicks in, you grab some toilet paper or a paper towel (better than a washcloth, because the stains don’t ever come out 100 percent) and you press hard against the cut. You can feel your embarrassment; it’s a backbeat underneath your pulse. Whatever relief there was a minute ago congeals, like cold gravy, into a fist in the pit of your stomach. You literally make yourself sick, because you promised yourself last time would be the last time, and once again, you’ve let yourself down. So you hide the evidence of your weakness under layers of clothes long enough to cover the cuts, even if it’s summertime and no one is wearing jeans or long sleeves. You throw the ****** tissues into the toilet and watch the water go pink before you flush them into oblivion, and you wish it were really that easy.

my palm ,
i cut,
my palm
i stared
my palm,
was bleeding,
i watched it bleed
until it froze
in the cold
my palm's now
warm
burning
with heat
maybe its the painful emotions
trying to pour out
of my cuts
thank god

they can now be free,i wish,
after they are bled out
they shall disappear
oh,i wish

i am
watching my scar now so timid and quietly pouring,and again
it froze.
what a scene.
no?
:(

[11w]

Mom
you shouldnt have said that.
i'm not worthless
i'm not a nobody
i'm trying
i recieve love
from everybody
but
you.

I'm no barbie doll.
I dont have perfections
I'm far from them.
but I'm not worthless
I'm trying.
i wanted you.
but you dont realize
you hurt me
i hurt myself
today
cuts on my palm
cry out thew words
'ABSOLUTELY WORTHLESS.'


no.please
i'm not
at least lie to me i'm not.
cause
i'm trying.please.

[14w]

The night had been pretty obnoxious,
twisting and turning sleeplessly,
various jagged up thoughts provoking me in,
i rubbed my eyes,
constantly

washed my face
to get a more clear picture of myself,
****,i still look the same,
the same old me,
ugly,
scarred,
bruised,
weird cheeked,
abnormal finger shapes,ugh,
everytime i look in the mirror,
i hope to see an improvement.

but i fail,
all the time,
i mean,
just for once,if i could be
satisfied.
for a minute,
and still tell myself,
"phew,you did look alright than before,though for a few seconds, wow,"

NO.
doesnt happen ,now.
i try to  be  as positive as i can,
only if it could re-create my distorted face image
and i could confidently talk to guys or anybody else,for that matter,
eye-to-eye.

if i could be confidently walk without hiding my scars from people,
who might just crack a joke
or prank up
or ***** on me

i'm
sick and tired of all of this

Help me now, or watch me leave.
that shall happen,v soon.

and theres a lot going on inside my head
some issues,i wish i could just properly mend

alas,they just dont seem to let me go
but,
i wish things could just beautifully flow.

words come and go
without a thought,
thoughts jag my brains
should i speak about it
or not?

i'm caught up more than i ever could be
i wish to just take a breath
close my eyes
fake a smile
and drown myself in the perennial sea

i read poems with girls lamenting and ranting about how their guy left them,broke hearts and stuff
and here i'm standing
when i was the one to call it off,even when he loved me so much.but I didnt feel the same any longer.
instead of cheating on him with some other guy,i confessed it all,b'*** thats what we guys used to do,no secrets.
but now he hates me.but loves me too. but i like somebody else now . I stand here like some culprit .i feel like i'm one of the guys in those poems and i feel like a loser.
am i wrong?
please tell.
its painful.
very
very
painful.
ughg

you're still here
when i close my eyes.
you're not all long gone.
you're STILL HERE
in my heart

I think
my
*heartbeats always tell lies
like all the time

they remind me,when
i'm sleeping
with my ear
close to my heart.

that i'm living.
still.
alive.
but the truth is,
that
actually
I'm not.

I
   am
                     dying
every
single

day
of            my LIFE

I never thought
in a thousand years
i could ever get caught
in the midst of a scam
by my peers
my reputation sank
sank like the titanic
Some girls' prank
ended up making me a  manic...

i swear ,those days
i never wished to face
all day long,weaker became my prays,
my thoughts, all so evil and pure
just couldnt keep pace

being called a S.L.U.T.
is not any girl would ever invite
but would rather Fright
wrong perceptions & notions
left no room for emotions
i was sick
and    b
r
    o
                 k
e
    n

&

t
    o
r
  n
"its all going to be fine",they had sworn.

But things just didnt seem to get better.
rather worse,,
i wished i could just stop Breathing and then leave some letter
I didnt wanto live any *******  more , that REMORSE....

Yes, i wanted to skip breathing
and then sit and write
Struggling for oxygen,
         finding words,
Struggling for life,
    only if i could just get a knife
and end my pain.

Who got bullied?
I
who got withered?
Me.
who got bothered?
Me.
Still who got blamed?
I.
By my folks, my peers,
{screams }

All  DORKS

Alone
I used to weep,
the pain and regret
i could just feel ,
feel it all seeping in.
inside my aching soul.
that why me?

Those days in history I wish I never repeat them-self
when a girl is tortured for being herself,
i didnt do any wrong
just struck a pose
and it all ended up in a debate so long
long as the NILE,
seemed o end
" we are all by your side",they just arent tired to pretend.
pretend,every single second,
minute,
hour,
day,
weeks,
months,
years,
all the time.
the story is now this old.
a year old today.
the day i was surrounded by a group,
or rather a pack of
wolves.
that'd just come closer
    and closer
                 and closer
to me.
I shout.
even today.
when i hear them all.
echoing,
          shouting,             laming,                  haunting.
oh Good God!


One thing they do perfectly,
is make her cry all day endlessly,
i know you were hotter
I know you were slimmer
I know you had straighter hair
And,a-n-d
owned shoes more than five-six fairs
i know you were popular
i know i wasnt any of the above.
But that didnt seem to bother me ,then.
until you tried to use them to put me down.

Wow, How great ?

just how well we twist words,
write stories and manipulate.
you should've been in the drama club!
was i the onyl one left to attack for flubs?

each word we possibly knew
to something that could hassle
for somebody to tussle ?
even if it meant
taking away her life,
because you didnt know
how good she naturally was
at being fragile?


be careful for the days to come,
b'*** you dont know
howscary she was &
how scarier she could possibly get?

smiling that i was such a fool to push you away from me and then crave for you later

for once i felt
i will be immortal
or maybe
live a thousand years
with him by my side,
holding hands,
having babies
together in misery
together forever.

that one invisible memory
BURNING
  BURNT

for once i felt
i shall reach the heights
where nobody could touch
i shall rock
i will smile
i shall travel
i will sigh
now the almost-next-to-impossible
dreams seem hard
because i'm not patient.
for i shall do harm
to myself
so the aspirations too
i watch them
BURNING

and so they are
finally
BURNT

all i am doing is
watching then burn
and they are all
now turning into
white ashes

white b'*** i will
not anymore metaphorise  them
to dark demons that
will someday rip me apart
and break me down
because i will someday
not let 'em get
burnt  anymore*


.....