Little Snowflakes.

You can make beautiful castles on the sand, you can frolic, scribble your emotions, hunt for treasures, witness the most beautiful sunrise on it, but the minute you grasp it in your hands, it slips away.

Some people we brush up against in life are like the sand on the beach. Not lovers, not friends, just inconspicuous souls brought together just for a flash of time. Inconspicuous, but not insignificant. They are the dots that eventually connect and make a wholesome picture. We have travelled so little together, we have known only a tiny portion of each other. And when the path digresses, we part. We are not meant to be together, but we were meant to meet🍁

Let me go.

The thoughts are pounding on the window hard,
all these distractions stop distracting,
and there amidst self-preservation
and inner chaos,
I could see the devil clear
as a summer sky.
I want to drown myself,
let go of all the straws
I am clutching onto,
just let it wash me away,
frustrations, neediness, hopelessness,
fighting is getting harder and harder,
if only I could stop trying.
just for a second, stop taking the breath.
But then there’s you,
Oh, you stubborn stupid,
how long can you breathe
for the both of us!
How far you could carry my baggage!
When it hurts, learn to let it go,
let me go.

A vow to Myself.

I promise to love you even when it’s hard for you to get up from bed.
I promise you will never have to be alone as long as my heart is beating.
I promise I will hold you tight when your eyes are heavy and puffy
from the night before.
I promise to shut the door to the people who take you away inch by inch.
I promise we will stand tall, walk with
our head held high,
I promise you the earth, the moon and all the happiness we deserve,
I promise this love is forever.

It’s not ‘sick’ to be sick!

When the wise old man said “it never rains, but it pours” it was not even in my wildest dreams that one day I would sit on my purple couch and contemplate on how true the saying is. Apparently, bad luck has a way of bringing all its friends, family and acquaintances while visiting an ill-fortuned individual. The past couple of weeks have made me an advocate of the mortality of human beings.
Not so long ago, I had a heating discussion with my friend about how experiential it would be to contract Covid-19 and to write about it. These pathetic humans on both ends have unintentionally forgotten to knock on the wood, I guess. It is a little bit weird to write about an actual illness rather than the intangible anomalies of our heart and soul.
Enough dilly-dallying, the point is that I got Covid-19. Not the gentle,not-so-deadly first strain, the second one.oh, the aristocracy. One sudden evening, my throat started to get a little sore and my head a little heavy. Soon, my roommate, Neeraja joined me in my path, rather grimly. The prestigious company we were working at that time, gave us a ‘one-hour break’ when mentioned our physical difficulties. Soon as they were summoned by a powerful witch, arrived scorching head pain, fever and pain from the joints and muscles I didn’t know existed. The very next day we took the test and passed it with flying colours. Then the beginning of, what seemingly felt like a decade, all sorts of pain and suffering. Each breath felt like stabbing and the gift of smell & taste were completely lost. After a week, as I was getting back to somewhat normalcy, a sudden backside occurred. This time the renowned guest was diarrhoea. How easily I can be sarcastic of myself now! There were times I prayed to the universe fearing this is my end, and I do not want to die away from the loved ones. Isn’t life and death just a touch away?
Once the darkest nights bewent, the rays of the sun rays started to peek through the veil of gloom and despair ( I get to be dramatic and you have got no say in it!). Days went by and each day brought a whiff of solace to us. Our spirits started to return to us with the comfort of recovery.
After a month of ordeals and nightmares, I am here, being grateful for the sense of smell, taste and sweetness of the air in my chest. This may sound close to the Nobel price acceptance speech, I would truly (without a hint of sarcasm and no pun intended) like to give a warm hug and kisses to all those souls out there who genuinely checked upon me. It was nice to get reminded that I am loved and remembered.
The irony of it all is that the places we both have been that constitute under the definition of ‘outside’ are the terrace and once the grocery store. Only if we could say we got it from somewhere sophisticated, say an indoor hidden concert?

The sweet agony of pain.

Maybe a part of me always wanted pain.
Maybe we all do,
Maybe that’s the magic of it.
I happen to have a sanguine,
little voice inside my head
every time life gets a little too much to handle.
It speaks to me, sings to me
the words of wisdom,
I am damn sure I don’t possess.
It brings intense, poignant,
bittersweet truths with her.
Then this hot river runs through me,
take me to depths and heights I have never been.
The world and the voices fade away.
I sit on the rooftop at 3 am,
breathing all the beauty,
irrevocably, irreversibly in love with the universe.
If pain is the one thing that makes me alive,
Aren’t I bound to crave it a little?

A not- so- little thing called Courage

For a long time, I used to believe courage is putting on a brave face and not letting grief in. That under no circumstances it was okay to let the people see you in your vulnerable state. When you are picking up yourself from the floor, when your face has little creases from pouring your heart out into your pillow or the long showers is no more suffice to give you the warmth you seek for, you should shut yourself out, do not let even a glimpse of ray into your soul. I heard the stories of women, men who stood upright and made not even a grunt when they were dragged into the emotional hell. I made myself believe courage is all about putting yourself inside a thick wall where no one and nothing can touch you.

When Beth March became ill and Jo stayed all night cuddling her, I cursed myself for weeping like a weakling. And all I wanted ever was to become that strong lady whom people never saw cry. I pitied the likes of people who would let their eye waterworks run free in front of an audience. Needless to say, I pretty much pitied myself.

It took me years to learn that bravery is not about the beautiful mask that you put on and pretend to be okay. That you don’t have to pretend that you have got it all figured out. Because none of us has. You don’t need to fight the tears only to explode with all those repressed emotions. That you are never damaged, but a little broken. Like all the broken things, you too are breathtaking when you let a ray of sunshine in. The scars you carry show the battles you have fought and let them know how much of a warrior you are. Be the damsel in distress, but just don’t wait for a knight in shining armour to rescue you.

Do dare to love yourself more than the perception you want others to have of you. Let the wall stumble down, let the world see you for who you really are❤

Drowning

The chest felt too tight.
Each breath, a thousand shrapnel
right into the lungs
When does breathing become so hard?
The azure sky, blue droplets, then
I ascended to darkness, nothingness.
The pictures, the moments, love, loss;
leave me not my vision.
Falling into the deep.
There was a brightening,
awakening, warmth in my left ribcage.
I relished smiles and rainbows.
The thread pulled me back to the top.
I was floating around, aimless;
the shore was there, or was it?

Everything that we pretend not to know.

There are plenty of wrongdoings that we know of, yet pretend not to know, avert our vision to perfect sights so that we can sleep better at night, suppressing our guilty conscience and pleading plausible deniability to ourselves. Once or twice in a year, there come some waves causing an unconcealable splash in the waters, forcing us to face the reality. This time a south Indian (Malayalam) movie named The Great Indian Kitchen directed by Jeo Baby, has caused a huge sensation all over India.

Stills from The Great Indian Kitchen

This movie is all about the Indian Kitchen. There are films in which kitchens are shown as those perfect tidied up spotless spaces where women possess the art of cooking and delicious items are happily prepared. The audience senses the belongingness. She is far away from the stress of office deadlines, headaches and whatnot. She is happy, she is where she’s ought to be. WELL, anyone who has set foot in the kitchen in the ungodly hours of manoeuvre knows it is NOT AT ALL the scene. It is a mess. Unwashed dishes in the sink. Sticky stains on the floor. Two hands and ten things to handle. It is overwhelming. House chores are as tiring and more boring than office works and less appreciated too. TGIK is a movie that’s may feel a little time lag, uneventful because that’s the life of the majority of Indian housewives.

The film starts with pennukanal (meeting of prospective groom and bride) where its clearly evident that they have not even considered getting acquainted with each other before marriage. The moment she enters her husband’s house, she is expected to become part of it. She has to leave her home behind, her comfort and her parents behind and none is going to console at her new home. Even a plant moved to another pot is given meticulous care for a few days!

As the movie progresses into it’s even more disturbing parts, minds start to fade a little into our backgrounds, our mothers are probably in the kitchen or amidst of any other house chores, their voices are not heard and faces are not seen. This is the shocking part. A little annoying sound in the back our heads reminds us that “this may not be your life, but surely it’s your mother’s life”. It is a hard feeling to shake, excuses like ” I don’t see her complaining or she loves doing these things” won’t get rid of them. Because we know that women were taught to live this way, that she’s brainwashed and subconsciously coerced into ‘being the good wife’. Does she ever get a holiday? Doesn’t her head also ache at the end of the day and have you heard her yelling for a cup of hot tea? Why isn’t taught to raise her voice even a little? Sacrifice her dreams and even herself for the family? I am not being emotional, maybe I am. The hell I am and I have every right to be!

The fact is that I just can’t express or put into words what this movie so exactly, without so many words, show us. All I know is that IT IS A MUST WATCH and not writing about it will kill me a little inside.

This movie is so well directed that in each scene, there are portrayed the patriarchal grip in the society. It’s hard to choose which one should be voiced against the most. The dowry system? The social stigma of menstruation, sex education, women’s sexual pleasure and desire? Inequality and subordination in marriage? Age-old barbaric traditions? …The list goes on

That brightest spot in all the darkness

The past few months have been a rough path filled with thorns and rocks(for all the humanity undoubtedly). Melodramatically one could say that this must be what hell feels like. An eternity of suffering. But there’s now a general consensus that a lot of people have ‘found’ themselves these days. A modern-day enlightenment one can say. And I, of all the people had one of it’s kind just a day ago.

I was having the third wave of despair in the middle of the day, and it made me think of the times when I actually felt happy and content. I felt horrified by the fact that it was a long time ago. I find myself very similar to the pre-vampire Bella Swan. She had this envelope of gloom around her. She always finds that one reason to be miserable among the thousands of brightest things. So do I.Was I happy when had almost everything? A job, social security, a nice bunch of people around?Nope. I was troubled by not having a passion to pursue, not having ‘someone’ in life, not having the life I dreamt. Okayyy.This popped a question in my mind.Why didn’t I appreciate life when it was vivid?

It’s a human trait. That was the ultimate answer. Only when we screw up everything, we will see the pretty portrait of what our lives used to be once. Too late to retreat. I don’t want to be that way. I don’t want to live not knowing the beauty of living. I quit quitting on my life. And here’s how I plan to do it.

I am Mediocre and I am fine with it.

Cliche is my middle name😁

‘Know thyself’ is something that you’ve heard plenty of times. Still, a great point though. I know that I am not the smartest or prettiest person in any room(tallest, maybe). Nevertheless, I am confident of who I am. We are living in a world where competition is as cosmopolitan as cockroaches. It’s everywhere. Sometimes it gets marketed as the essence of the world.One more ‘survival of the fittest’ talk, I will go insane.Learn to accept who you are.That doesn’t mean to back out.Once you know where you stand,you will get a clear view of things.

Don’t be a pushover

I forgot the last time I said ‘no’ to someone. Sometimes I wonder whether I have a ‘people-pleaser’ chromosomes in my genes.I was overly proud about all the nice comments I got in my diary(yes, we had this as a farewell tradition) and almost – strangers calling me out of blue for favours.

I have tried my whole life trying to be a ‘nice’ person, pretending not to be bothered by things, saying ‘no-biggie’.The worst part is that,I never get chosen over someone who never does anything for them.

It’s never late to learn to say ‘no’ without backing it up with a 150 words explanation paragraph.Make some enemies,if you must.

Put yourself out there

Not as simple as putting an ‘open for business’ board,I know.

But life is too short to wait forever.How are you expecting to find the one if you are not willing to do what you should? If there’s anything you want to change in your life,try changing it.Work it out.If it’s something you are not in control of,go to our first step and learn how to live with it.

Stop fidgeting. Stop imagining the consequences (bad advice alert) and dreading over it.By putting yourself in that position you are only going to push your goals away.Keep calm and give your best

Past is in the past.Let it go.

Turn away and slam the door to your past.

Everyone has gone through embarrassments and no one walks on the earth who hasn’t made a mistake in their lives. Frankly, being embarrassed is the new cool. It’s kinda attention and applauds getting topic when it comes to chitchatting. So the next time you are in bed, wide awake, watching and reliving all the yucky moments of your life, remember that you are human and you are entitled to all the flaws.

Rome wasn’t built on a day.The same goes with enlightenment too.We all are different from one another.I am sure you don’t have the same horrifying food habits as I have.My tips to happiness may not be suitable for you.Instead of whining about your distress,find your own cure to it(I am a wise oak,aren’t I?)

“If you’re feeling frightened about what comes next, don’t be. Embrace the uncertainty. Allow it to lead you places. Be brave as it challenges you to exercise both your heart and your mind as you create your own path toward happiness, don’t waste time with regret. Spin wildly into your next action. Enjoy the present, each moment, as it comes; Because you’ll never get another one quite like it. And if you should ever look up and find yourself lost, simply take a deep breath and start over. Retrace your steps and go back to the purest place in your heart… where your hope lives. You’ll find your way again.”
– Rory Gilmore

Pinky Promises

Sometimes you see a certain thing,hear a certain song, or go through something and there,right in the middle of your busy day,you plunge into a certain memory.A beloved, long forgotten one.

You feel like you’ve travelled back in time, watching your younger self.There you see yourself laughing with them and you can clearly recall all those beautiful days.But couldn’t help but wonder where it all had gone wrong.The promises you’ve made,the scribblings you made on the desks,written in diary with special effects.The friendship bands, birthday gifts,all the secrets you shared that had the power to destroy your little world that time.

People say everything doesn’t last.I know.But I also know that,no matter how silly we were at that time,we loved each other.We cried and wept for days when it was the time for good-byes.

We maybe miles apart,not knowing what the other became into! It’s not about reconnecting out of the blue that I am talking about.Just to acknowledge the fact that,we have grown apart.But we were BFF at that time indeed.Sometimes forever isn’t infinite.It doesn’t have to be!