Undone.
Incomplete.
Something missing.
We think we are pieces of a puzzle,
You and I.
Faith.
Hope.
The last of our expectations.
immersed in the notion of something
that will fulfill us.
We are so intrigued with this idea
of someone
Completing us.
Healing us.
Filling us.
Sometimes I wonder…
Maybe we were born whole,
not nuts and bolts.
not a jigsaw puzzle.
nothing missing.
It holds you in its arms
Cradles you, caresses you.
Mistake it not for warmth,
for Grief is an ocean
Vast. Deep. Relentless.
Somebody, everybody and nobody
All have grief in common,
for grief spares none.
I wear it differently
It looks unrecognisable on you.
Grievance is for the dead,
was a lesson taught in school
oh but there is more to it
grief is for change, loss and being
is a lesson taught by life.
Tides and currents run wild
in its unfathomable waves
it comes to everyone
in its own time
and knocks you off your feet.
There is no running, no escaping.
When it hurts to even breathe
remember that it changes on a dime
one day, impossibly, it won’t hurt this bad
that’s how you survive.
I think I’m past it
alas it strikes again, starts again.
you can not control it,
let it in when it comes, feel it
let go of it, when you can
There are names playing on its lips,
My name. Your name.
Do you hear it?
All things that begin
must come
to an inevitable end.
A cry of distress,
in an unfamiliar world
and hence begins life.
Some live for a 100 years
without being alive
for even
a second of it.
We are our own undoing.
Blessing or tragedy?
Stop and smell the roses,
they say.
Maybe I should
become that rose
and carry that beauty
within me.
I wish to forge
my own path.
Untethered, free and wild.
Liberated from this worldly cage,
and when Death finally finds me
may it find me alive.
The other day, I came across an African proverb : “When death comes to find you, may it find you alive.”
We spend a lot of our lives being held back by trying to become what we think others expect us to be. We let ourselves be trapped in a cage.
Our soul knows what it wants. At this very moment, it’s speaking to you. Listen. Then go do it, grab it, live it.
Something went wrong with my WP a few days ago, and this got posted before I was done editing it. I removed it as soon as it happened, but a few of you had already read it and left comments. I’m sorry I had to delete that post because it just wasn’t ready. This is the final and improved version!
She was a pristine enigma
In a world of unfurled parchments
A jigsaw puzzle of a million pieces
some discovered, some missing
There were facets of herself
she was yet to fathom
There were mysteries and riddles
she was yet to answer
Far and wide she went
Seeking, deseperately, some lucidity
Praying for the fulfillment
she didn’t know she needed
Drained and exhausted
she ended the ardurous voyage
Only then did she realize,
her answers lay closer
She found them in her heart,
in the hearts of people she loved,
inscribed in the pages
of love letters of her youth
She found them hidden
between the pages of an old book,
in the embrace of her family
and the scent of her home.
We carry the universe within
We are the cosmos
stardust in the veins,
a collection of dead stars.
Splendor and magnificence flowing
light seeping through each pore.
Shackles of gravity chasing us
our being chooses to be untethered.
Nothing but a hoard of ordinary atoms
bound by opulence and beauty.
Our actuality is ephemeral
in the perpetual history of time.
We carry the universe within
We are the cosmos
until we wash away into oblivion
cessation of life – nothingness.
Ever so often we find ourselves looking for people, places, memories and opportunities that make our hearts ache. But in a good way.
Some find happiness in running after that feeling, chasing it in bars and discos. Jumping off cliffs only to have a trace of its grandeur. Intoxicated by its scent in foreign skies and seas.
Some find solace in the hope that it will come to them. That all they must do, is believe in its power, its possibility, and trust it with all their heart, and the wait will be worth it.
That feeling is what makes the World go round.
Earth, our home, found it in its path around the Sun.
Sun, our star, found it in its luminosity and illumination.
Water, our sustenance, found it wrapped in the bonds between hydrogen and oxygen.
Wind, our cosmos, found it in the chirp of every bird that beautifies it.
Fire, our energy, found it in the oxygen that strengthens it.
Sometimes, it comes in our early years. Others spend ages feeling incomplete.
Sometimes, it comes right when you need it. Others learn that it has the worst timing ever.
Sometimes, it comes when you’re ready to hold on. Others are caught completely off guard.
I made a wish for that feeling, then placed it in my soul.
I promise to welcome its immensity and its enormity the next time we bump paths.
Images from Google Images
Hearts, hammering and hurting
Soundless prayers, begging
Unfamiliar nausea, flooding over
Strength, emerging from the tears
In the distance :
A shrill, piercing screech
striving to tear
through the peripheral traffic.
Another day, Another tragedy,
Another life in the balance.
Another life hanging by the cliff.
Wanting to hoist itself above
when there’s only enough to let go
A combat for another breath
Life, the only war spoil
In the distance :
A fleeting image of an ambulance,
A whizz of sirens defying all odds
A cascade of orisons and hopes.
Another day, Another tragedy,
Another life in the balance.
Another life hanging by the cliff.
Steady then Shaky.
Erratic at best.
A few days ago, I stood by my balcony, talking on the phone. And during that 20 minute phone call I heard 4 ambulances rushing by. That is where I found my inspiration to write this. We are currently surviving in trying times. Things will get better. I am proud of all of us for facing them! More power to us.
P.S I am so sorry for not being able to be up to date with all my reading. I have been busy with exams for the past week.
But I am back now! Looking forward to hearing from all of you and reading more of your amazing pieces!
All my love and hugs to you guys! Stay safe.
1. She veiled herself, unable to accept the flaws. The world, patiently awaited her exit from hiding, ready for her light.
2. Their reluctant hands met. Sparks flew, warmth coarsed and love grew in the silence. Hiding behind smiles, they embraced it.
This is in response to Twenty Word Tuesday (TWT) held by Bulbul’s Bubble. This week’s prompt was : Hiding (https://wp.me/pbcaAs-xo)
I took two different angles at this. Let me know what you think!
The “what ifs,” the “could have beens”
cloud my thoughts and actions.
Forevermore.
They’d come back, I was told
to haunt me.
Regrets.
I go back in time
I choose differently this time.
Another chance.
I live in the past
The present drifts away.
Another mistake.
Now I am thinking
about “what was but will never again be”
Torment.
To have something
only to lose it.
Tragic.
My heart’s greatest desire
Became ghosts in the shadows.
Irony.
what hurts more
“what ifs” or “what weres”
Another question.
The past is a deadly place to live in
I wish I could tell my younger self.
A warning.
Lessons I learn, consequences I face
Forward, I hope I move.
Forevermore.
1. She looked down. A deep gash ran obliquely over her torso. Blood sputtering. White light beckoned. Was this the end?
2. It was a suicide, they said. She pulled the trigger, but their oblique remarks towards her body held the gun.
This is my attempt at the Twenty Word Tuesday event hosted by Bulbul’s bubble. (https://wp.me/pbcaAs-wZ)
This week’s prompt was: Oblique.
While both these 20 word stories are about death. They are in two completely different contexts.
In reference, to the second story, I would like to take this opportunity to convey how important it is for all of us to be mindful of our words and actions. They have great power. They can create and destroy.
To anyone who is going through a tough time, stay strong. It does get better.
I sit here in silence
surrounded by the echoes
of who we used to be.
I sit here in silence
This Darkness is my companion
how did it get ahold of me?
I sit here in silence
The memories of our past
clasp my throat; I am choking.
I sit here in silence
The tears of your love
in my eyes, are blinding me.
I sit here in silence
There’s a void inside of me
it’s where your promises used to be.
I sit here in silence
Dealing with the aftermath
of an epic love. Your love.
I breathe in. I breathe out.
Inhale. Exhale.
1. Life existed, but was I living it? My world came to a standstill, but time kept ticking. Such was quarantine.
2. Neigbours waved from the abode of their patios. Quarantine had coerced the otherwise estranged humanity to connect and join forces.
3. Calloused fingers ached from typing night and day, night and day. Life Goal: Write a book. Quarantine made it possible.
4. “I love you,” she whispered to the camera, he smiled at the screen. Quarantined miles apart, their hearts beat together.
This is in response to the Twenty Word Tuesday organised by Bulbul’s Bubble (https://wp.me/pbcaAs-wd). I somehow ended up writing 4 different pieces.
This week the prompt was – Quarantine
I wanted to try and highlight some positivity that arose from the confinement and isolation, as well as the adversity and heartbreak. I hope I was able to do justice!
I hope you are all keeping safe and healthy!
The soulful symphonies of her last breaths echoed in his ears. Their souls kissed a fervent goodbye, in slow motion.
This is my attempt at coming up with a short story in exactly 20 words in response to the Twenty Word Tuesday held by Bulbul’s Bubble. (https://bulbulsbubble.home.blog/2020/08/11/twenty-word-tuesday-week-2/)
The prompt for this week was – slow motion.
This was my take at the prompt. I hope I was able to do justice.
A bonfire, a friendship and a paradox. Three unrelated entities that came together. This is a story of how.
Completely different yet somehow bizarrely functional, such was our connection.
This is how I met The Boy Who Loves Bonfires.
Click.Tap.Click.Tap.Click.Tap.
I had come up with a rhythm to which I bobbed my head, sitting impatiently. It was yet another day in a class I wasn’t very fond of. Don’t get me wrong, I was great at the subject.The class, however,was a borefest.
There is always that one class where no one pays attention. Everyone is either dozing off or daydreaming. The latter is more my thing.
The seat next to me was unoccupied…until, it just wasn’t. My daydream came crashing down when I heard the sound of metal screeching as
the seat next to me was pulled backward.
Within seconds, a complete stranger who I had occasionally seen in the hallways, sat next to me.
That is probably the most boring and cliched starting to what became one the most beautiful friendships of my life.
While I admit that the beginning was awkward and rocky, a few months later we were inseparable.
“The Boy Who Loves Bonfires,” such was his epithet.
Bonfires? I mean what’s so out of the blue about bonfires?
Fire. An element of life, a symbol of damnation, a source of energy, the hallmark for death. A purifier and a destroyer.
A paradox.
In the last sacrament of life in many cultures, corpses are burnt. Day after day, countless people die, yet the living wish to live forever.
The bodies of the dead are burned as they depart on a journey to whatever lies in the afterlife. Smoke stacks choke the skies.
The holy element of fire is hence linked to the end of a loved one’s journey amongst the living.
Fire, then becomes eerie and sinister to many people.
While my friend envisaged a starry night, sitting across a bonfire, with blankets and marshmallows.
The heat from the fire soothing the frigid air and the shivering toes. Consuming, devouring, annihilating the wood in order to stay alive.
Orange flames cackling while they dance, throwing vivid shadows and shapes under the dark of the night.
Its reflections in the eyes of the people gathered around, whispering secrets as its warmth caresses each soul.
Burning with the valiant desire to breathe. It reminded him of the beauty of being alive, each day.
“We can complain that rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice that thorns have roses,” while I had heard this many times, The Boy Who Loves Bonfires brought it to life and made me live it.
The Boy Who Loves Bonfires taught me a way of life.
I like to think of fire as the calm before a storm. Sometimes, the storm strikes and there is death, devastation, and loss to deal with. Sometimes, the storm passes over. It doesn’t strike. On those days, there is relief, warmth, calm and joy that the fire itself spreads.
I wonder sometimes, does fire know of its power? To create and destroy. Or does it remain an oblivious paradoxical element.
A paradox contradicts itself. It has various faces to it. The one we choose to focus on arbitrates much of our lives.
This I learned from him.
Who would have thought that a friendship that began in the dullest possible way would spark a fire. Dazzling and alive.
Firstly, a huge shout out and thank you to Nawazish (https://thelighteningbug.wordpress.com/) for nominating me for the Sunshine Blogger Award. She uses her words to talk about issues of social awareness and has a very creative and forward take. I really appreciate her efforts to bring these issues under the spotlight. Check out her blog! You won’t be disappointed.
Another huge shout out and thank you to Reshmi (https://rezscribblez.wordpress.com/) for nominating me for the Liebster Award. She is one of my favourite bloggers because she has a very wide array of content on her blog. From poems to write ups, quotes and images! She has it all. One of her recent posts “an ode to my laptop,” is my absolute favourite! Please do check out her blog.
Also, thank you to 1972italy (https://todaysblogs.blog/) for nominating me for the Liebster award. I came across the “Today Blog” sometime ago and have since then been a fan! From musings to wonderful write ups to beautiful photography, it in an all in one platform. Do check it out, when you can! It’s almost addictive.
And thank you, to every single one of you who is reading this and my other writings/posts. Thank you for your advice and support. I am young and have a lot to learn. I do not think of myself as an outstanding writer/poet, but I yearn to be one, and you are helping me get there. For that, I am grateful. All my love and appreciation to you, from the bottom of my heart.
The Rules
My Answers
For the Sunshine Blogger Award
My Questions
My Nominees:
For the Liebster Award
My Questions
My Nominees:
I absolutely adored answering these!
Thank you once again for the nominations.
And thank you, to all of you.
The breeze stopped blowing,
whispering secrets no more.
Stood still in awe
of the paradise around.
Yearning to shine bright,
the North Star, faintly visible,
took its first breaths
of that stellar night.
Red and Orange mingled.
The horizon was a death bed,
the mighty Sun lay on it.
One last caress.
One last kiss.
Down went the mighty Sun,
the last of its brilliance
gobbled by the Death Bed.
Night had fallen.
Eric, William and Ernest,
had all devoted their words to her.
Each syllable stirred, an innominate emotion,
each word pulled at her heartstrings.
So she set sail,
her heartsrings moulded into a mast,
her heart became the anchor
as she embarked to write about him.
‘His eyes, the colour of Earth
almost as if they dared her to venture,
to unearth the secrets they veiled
left her bewitched.
His scent intoxicated her,
reminded her of the comfort and stability
his arms offered as they engulfed her.
His heart beating in her ears.
His presence, made her heart smile,
propelled warmth into her soul
and dazzled her spirit,
promising to stay beside her.’
A single tear escaped from each eye
as she put the pen down
Each word that she had inscribed
sent a wave of sorrow.
As she mourned what could have been,
as she grieved over her loss,
as she devoted words to him
she became Eric, William and Ernest.
she perched by the window;
fog on her glasses
from the steaming mug of coffee
clutched in her hands;
eyes on the words
etched on the pages
engrossed in a world
far from ours;
leaves meandering
in the lightly blowing breeze
birds twittering in the distance;
cars racing off the highway
chasing frivolous nothings,
detached from the reality around
engrossed in a world
far from ours;
sunlight shimmering
off the crevices of her neck
tawny hair astray,
soundlessly speaking lips
devouring tales
of love and romance
engrossed in a world
far from ours.
I am really grateful to Dulcy Singh (https://dulcyblogs.wordpress.com/) for nominating me! Check out her blog, she has great content! I am a huge fan of her stories.
I started this blog a month ago and this is my first award nomination! I am genuinely so excited, grateful and honored.
I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you amazing bloggers who have taken the time to read my content and for your support throughout. I am very new to blogging and nothing is more encouraging than your reinforcement.
Rules:
Here are the answers to the questions I was asked:
I nominate:
My questions for the nominees:
Once again, thank you so much, Dulcy!
A huge shoutout to all of you for supporting me throughout!
This is my tale of a rendezvous with the enigma that is called – Snow!
“The first snowfall of every winter is magical,” I remember hearing this in a TV show once.
I am no stranger to winters, but in my part of the World, it does not snow all that often. So it has always been a bit of a mystery to me.
I have been told that as a child, I have witnessed quite a few snow days.
Sadly, I have no recollection of these days.
A few years ago, I completed another item on my bucket list, on a trip to Ladakh, India.
As we drove down the narrow roads, there was a zeal and zing brimming inside each of us.
There was a singular prayer on all our lips. One word. Snow.
The windows were down, I felt the cold breeze against my face, as I stared at the path ahead, from the backseat of the car.
In the distance, I saw the road -glittering and white. I was entranced, encaptured, enchanted.
A few seconds later, I saw a single snowflake dancing, floating, swirling in the air before hitting the concrete.
In the blink of an eye, there were hundreds of these tiny miracles dancing, floating, swirling, and finally landing. I felt a few on my face before they melted, becoming tiny droplets of water.
We took an exit off the highway that led to an empty road.The concrete was not so bare now. There were white specks all over.
I stepped out, tilted my head upwards as I witnessed each tiny miracle completing its journey.
It was freezing cold, I was told. I felt none of it.
It was as if I had disconnected from everything around me. I was in a bubble with only these snowflakes for company.
It was as if I was conversing with every tiny miracle I saw.
I was completely and utterly bewitched by their charm, devoted.
Hypnotic. Irresistible.
The street off the highway was now filled with families and tourists who had stopped to witness those mesmeric moments of snow.
I heard children shrieking with joy in the distance. I heard people walking through the snow, not too silently.
Pure, innocent wonder.
Up close, each tiny snowflake appears different. Each began its journey as a droplet in the ocean, travels miles and miles away from home.
Suspended, in the freezing cold, trapped inside a cloud. How painful must it be.
Each drop is now shaped differently, pressing against each other, fighting for room.
Then the cloud gets heavy, it bursts.
There is room to breathe now. Room for each tiny miracle, that set off on this journey.
It dances one last time in a lightly blowing breeze, in hopes of reuniting with the homes they left behind.
That day, a few snowflakes returned to the oceans, seas, rivers and lakes they left behind. Others got consumed by the soil, where these tiny miracles nourished life. While some,simply fell on concrete, cars and roofs to bring euphoria and elation to the cluster of tourists and families by that road.
I witnessed true beauty in each snowflake. Selfless. Altruistic.
My first snowfall. Or at least the first I remember, was what I was told it would be.
Magical.
