You walk like a miracle, bathing in starlight. Your voice burning holes in the frame, I danced in the parking lot, cried in the taxi home Cause I still remembered your name. And oh, I'm not in love anymore, anymore But I will keep you close to me forever. ~ Angela (Flower Face)
I've stories to tell, About cliched love, incomplete forevers, loyal demons and injured angels Do you have courage to listen? I've stories to tell, About credulous summers, wilted springs and harsh winters. Do you have courage to listen? I've stories to tell, About parched ends and lost starts. Do you have courage to listen?
Hey there. This is not one of my sadist write-ups. So smile.
Today I want you to take a moment. Breath. Inhale. And exhale! Don't keep filling yourself with toxicity and memories and pain. You are a human being. Treat yourself well dear person.
Life is not smooth. It is a bumpy road. Sometimes there's no way ahead. Sometimes we don't have the will or power to walk on this path. Our brain constantly thinks about the pain we went through. The pain we are going through. The pain we will go through. It's like we are racing with sadness and somehow it wins, everytime. Probably uses some cheat codes.
Maybe it's time to stop. Maybe end the race or pause for a while. And be grateful. Be grateful for where you are standing in your life. Look back and see how many speed breakers you have came across. How many puddles you have been through. How you have walked from one cliff to another without a bridge.(doesnotmakesenseik) You have been through alot. Take a minute. Appreciate yourself. You have been awesome. You are going to be awesome. Maybe you don't believe in yourself right now. But believe in the hopeful heart of the kid version of you.
Be grateful for who you are. What you are. What you have. Maybe some of you have a handful of loved ones. You are looking for more, you want to fill your basket. Stop. Be grateful for the people you have in your life.
You are alive. You can still bring change. Maybe start with a smile? Continue with hope.
You will fall yes. But then every time you'll rise a little higher. We cry that we repeat our mistakes. We are useless. We are hopeless. But it's one tangle at a time! You can do it. It'll be okay. Smile.
Ps. Looking at sunrises and sunsets soothes you to the core. Try it.
So out of the blue,right? Might not make sense but a few days back, I wanted someone to tell me this. Maybe today someone needs to hear this. Stay safe. ✨
The house hushed like a little lamb As he walked in like a lion after hunt, Smiling Drenched In sweat He exclaimed- "The rally roared with claps during my address to the Labourers, And they hailed me like a God "
My docile grandmother then offered him a glass of cold water and despised he ordered her to bring Shikanji.
"The only lemon left after pickling yesterday was used to prepare Sharbat, for the panting old sewage cleaner"
He looked at her in dejection, and cried, "That lemon belonged to me"
Sikanji and Sarbat are hindi terms for lemon drinks.
In Mumbai alone it is estimated that over 600 sewer workers die every year. In just the last two years, over 1200 workers have died inside sewer line. Amidst this lockdown over 71 migrant workers have died while making their way to home. Old, paralysed, pregnant women and children are walking miles, across states. But yes we do have enough money for temples and detention camps! Kudos!
I begin to sketch a portrait with a thought of immortalising an existence in my mind. I have with me a few colors that lust to smear the canvas that's been clear and parched for ages with some vague thoughts that don't fathom into a creation.
I start by outlining all your curves, that smile being the most contagious of all. The moment I reach there I feel numb inside and I wonder the day we cross our paths if I'd still feel alive. After collecting all the bits and resting them on the paper, now they crave to get into life.
From crimson to wine, I got different shades of red yet they fail to blend into the colour your skin possesses. I try mixing them together in hope of getting what I desire although secretly I know I could never recreate a classic. I blame the genetics for being so variant and cruel.
Negotiating on the undertone, I jump onto the eyes. I recall how they blink in perpetual motion and how I could never have a proper gaze. I'm stuck with the matter of depicting them while they flicker, for no stillness could justify the composure they offer.
being done with everything, it still feels like I missed out on something. I close my eyelids to sneak a view again and you appear with all those aesthetics I could never draw any day. Perhaps I could never immortalise you for you had always been aside, being a fantasy so real, caged inside my brain and a reality too pleasant to be kept in someone's reach.