When I Saw You Standing There Holding That Doll In Hand, Innocence In Eyes. It Felt Like I Knew You From

Thankful that I am not that Toy

I came home a few days ago, and today I decided to clear my old stuff. As I was clearing all the old boxes and bags I stumbled across an old box of toys. An old toy which was my favourite was on top of the stack. Old memories flushed in. I was so happy. The cleaning stopped in a jiffy and I started playing like a small kid. My little brother looked at me in astonishment. I dint care. I was on cloud nine.

But after a while, I got bored. The toy was back in the box and cleaning resumed.

That was when I realized how people nowadays treat each other. They get happy when they see an old friend but in a while get bored too. Then that person's contact no. goes back to the end of the phone book.

I have been there. A friend, yes still a friend; has always used me like that old toy still I expect amd keep waiting for him to come back and find astonishment in me all over again.

I don't express love in the right way

I don't say the right thing at the right time

But I have never been fake

Nor has my love been a hoax.

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Just because I'm not like the rest of the world in being all sweet and cheesy

Doesn't mean I care less

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I AM THIS WAY

I'm Adamant, Loud, Curious, Sentimental, but that doesn't mean my soul is bumbling.

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These are traits in my character that are not so good maybe, but look there are other "good" ones too.

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If my adamance is bothering you

Let it be.

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If me having an opinion is smothering you

Then you are suffocating by your own thoughts.

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I may not be the apple of your eye

Or the centre of you're world.

Guess what

I don't want to be.

But how can my mere presence bother you

Just because we hold a past

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I'm not agitated just with you,

But by a lot of people around me.

How can you judge me so easily even after knowing me.

You're so wrong with your calculations coz your decisions aren't always the right.

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If you still say I have a problem, then be it

Coz my problem isn't that big a deal

All I do is care too much and love too much all the wrong people at the wrong time to whom I have never been significant. Ever.

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I'm glad your smile is above my scar.

I'm really glad.

I never saw her like this before.

She has never been so vulnerable before

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I never knew that an old chord like this

Would stir up so much.

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I have never heard him like that

All so messed up yet so clear about what was going on.

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They should both just go on

Move their separate paths.....

Actually they have.

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It's just old chords like these.

Because

Some voices just brings in memories

And some people bring back a smile

And they are the ones like that.

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And they would always be like that.

No matter what,

Some times, some things, and some memories never change

Yay! Its my birthday

I diagnosed myself of suicidal tendencies.

I'm over it now

I'm glad I'm over it.

I was fascinated by death

But it's over now.

What would have happened

If my thoughts had gone real..?

If my laziness had not pertained.?

Yes, I was lazy to die too...

I would have jumped off that building I pass through everyday.

I would have been somewhere else now

Food to the worms

And in time would have been just bones and only bones.

Many would have cried....

Some for days, others for weeks, and

Yet a few for months.

But the law of memory would have allowed everybody to forget me.

That's what happens to everybody.

That's normal.

But then, why is it normal..?

Why do we forget..?

We say people are everything

Then why do we forget..?

I know its moving on,

And that it's very essential.

But then, most of the time

The person doesn't even remain in our vaguest memory.

Aniversaries of death in the initial years

Brings back the flood of tears.

But with years, even that dissappears.

So, what significance do people have

What do they mean in life.?

That haunts me today

More than my chaos.

And now, death does not facinate me

But rather the question....

Why does the memory fade away..?

“the overgrown quills on my legs didn’t stop him.

my period blood and the tampon inside of me didn’t either.

this was never about attraction. it was about dominance.

he was power hungry with an insatiable appetite. i could taste command on his fingers when he shoved them down my throat and made me vomit before he left my house.

no, i wasn’t desirable. 

so, let’s make one thing clear - he desired to control me.”

- smspoetry (sexual assault)

With mountains climbed

Stars gazed at.

It's been a beautiful week of all my life.

With friends made, and friendships bonded

I don't know how life could change.

People talked, laughed, had a merry go ride.

This has been where relationships redefined

New ones made

Judgements broken and new ones made.

Love to all the people and all the memories.

To the good and bad triping

When new things happen in life, what do you do? Depending on the happening you either become happy or sad, right?

Well, that's what I'm going through right now. I am happy, well happy would be a small word, I'm extremely overwhelmed. Happier than ever, and that's what worries me... But I guess with him by my side I will be fine.

Because today had been a perfect day. Brunch with friends, lot of laughter and hard core fun.

He sent me something that's his. Something that was a piece of his life... Maybe I really had no idea how much I made him feel infinite...

This feeling of happiness seems wonderful, well leaves me speechless whenever I think about the great things happening.

Maybe I should just sit back and relax like how he always says

I do not know, even though its confusing, there is clarity in this fairy tale that he has built me. Because more than love, I trust him

The window

If only you could open doors that would change things,

Sometimes like how you think of running far away to those places you never know of

Those meadows and sunsets you have written about, you've read about, you've thought about.

I don't know about you, but I have.

I have wanted to open that window to the perfect home I've imagined.

To that home, where amma and appa had figured out things

Where my older brother wasn't threatened by my birth

Where I wasn't threatened by that hand that made me uncomfortable.

Where my screams would be heard through the window.

Where when I cried, I had a hand to hold on to.

Where I did not run away from, I did not ignore calls, where my memories of childhood were not fights and hatred.

That window which did not show me trying to kill myself

I dream of building that home, where I am safe, I am heard and I am wanted. But now when I do, I feel like I'm caged inside the cocoon that I have build shooing away people. While then it was being in a house that wasn't my home and now a home that feels like a house.

Sometimes, someday I will open that window where I will have a painting hung on the wall of a meadow, a framed picture of people on my bedside table, and my bookshelves across the bed. Someday it will contain a hand that will embrace me and a shoulder to lean on to.

Image from: Razia @a-small-startup

The mirror

Tiny little toes, 10 little fingers and she learns to stand.

With that chubby cheek and the diaper, it was more like a duck racing around.

She starts running because, she might fall anytime now, and wants to cover as much as possible.

She turns around and finds this beautiful little kid staring back at her,

Looks up and finds her mother staring at her,

She rushes to hug her mother, but her nose hits the solid screen

The mirror.

She doesn’t realize then, that at one point in life she’ll hate looking into that

The mirror.

High school was supposed to be fun

Crushes and girl gangs were the things shown on those romcoms

She hates those movies now.

While she developed early, her breasts were her biggest enemies

The girls in her class started calling her names, and

She felt guys only liked her for that

Every day she looked into that opaque thing and hated every inch

The extra skin, being fat, and those stretch marks

She hated them all

The Mirror

Being a young lady

She covered every inch she hated with layers and layers of cloths

While her mother told her that she should lose some weight and not eat more

Her grandmother constantly reminded her she would never find someone

Then came the era of being woke

Where you were pretty DESPITE being fat

She looked away from mirrors

The pores on her face, the short hair, and the dry lips

Nothing seemed pretty DESPITE being fat and dark.

The mirror only mouthed what she told

She was never nice to herself

Today, she wakes up, wears the same white shirt that she wears for meetings

Looks up at that mirror and looks into those eyes

Those eyes had known that fair and lovely was not what she seeked

She did not have to feel pretty despite fat and dusky

She was pretty with those curves and dark skin

She wears the khol on her eyes, slides into the shorts

Tucks that strand of hair

And lets out a smile to herself

And to all those years of hatred

She saw those little toes and 10 fingers

And smiled

The mirror.

Image from Razia @a-small-startup