The first sister was often misunderstood, overlooked and ignored. But she was incredibly sincere and steadfast.Those who looked at her long enough couldn't forget her intrinsic luminescence and undeniable allure. There was peace to be found in her company, and yet the second sister was the favoured one. Sometimes she used to look at her sibling and wonder why everyone always noticed her sister and not her.
The second sister was dazzling and very pleasing to the eye. The moment people saw her, they were riveted. They sought her company more often than that of her sister. Nary a man was immune to her charms. Her appeal was ubiquitous. People fought for her company. And so wherever she went...there was chaos. But she was a slave to time...never able to stay anywhere for long. Her name was Pulchritude. And her lesser known sister, the firstborn was Beauty.
Dear January ~You disappeared like sugar crystals in water, Slowly reducing to nothingness with each subsequent stir~ You remind each soul to seize the day and be the author, Tis your life and you mustn't waste it in an avaricious blur Rest awhile and calm the disquietude within you In this wondrous vessel of time you'll find new joy, of a different hue
Oh how I long for everyone to see your untarnished beauty Wiping away the debris of yesteryear You are a most clever concoction of Chronos Bestowed upon us to usher in newfound hopes and celebrations.
Though you are long gone now Your sweetness still remains fresh in my memories Etched into my sinews, showing me the light through the pain So for now I rest assured, knowing that soon you'll be here once more And we may all revel together and begin again.
I was looking for a perfect picture for this write-up and after taking a bunch of screenshots from different sites I use, I stumbled upon this one. It's a scene from this super amazing series "sex education" and this scene in particular brought me down to tears when I was watching it somewhere in the mid of first lockdown. (Because that's the only way I can remember things now,... With respect to how many days I've been in paradise. Bad joke. Sorry.)
"Being a woman is really difficult in India."
That's something I've been listening ever since a lady was stabbed by her husband in public a couple days ago just because she wanted to continue with the hospital job that her husband wanted her to quit and no one came to save her. I say,
"Being a woman is difficult. Period!"
How about that?
It's not the country, it's the dirty minds.
Anyways, this is something I've been working on for, well, ages actually. I started this last year, probably a couple months before a friend suggested me this series and then I just abandoned it because I got stuck somewhere in the middle and I knew I needed to give this one a break for a while. (That's something I do a lot.) But I started working on it again like a week ago and finally got myself to complete it. I hope you read it and yeah! Drop a feedback if you do.
【I am using this particular separator in here because as Amitabh's character in the movie "Pink" said,
"No" is not just a word. It's a complete sentence.
A "No" means No irrespective of who says it, when they say it or how they say it.】
- ♂ - ♀ - NO - ♂ - ♀ - NO - ♂ - ♀ - NO - ♂ - ♀ - NO - ♂ - ♀ -
You see yourself standing in a crowded bus With beethoven's moonlight sonata playing in your earphones You try to look outside the window The vision is blurred by winter mist Perfectly sprayed on the glass Those morning office phone calls And a perfect meeting spot Craving for hot cup of coffee And wanting to sing like never before Hush! Here comes an intruder. Silently sliding through the sea of people Only to stop in the middle of it And right next to you You look around at the ones sitting Turning their phones on, Looking at the time every other minute You could see the stress and disappointment on those faces When the bus got stuck in traffic. A little acceleration and more breaks And the intruder falls on you He straighten himself up, Grabs the handle, Pretending that nothing happened! You try to ignore it too And take out your phone To change the tune. Now, the bus engine is turned off So both the acceleration and breaks Are put on a hold! You feel something creeping on your back Slowly sliding down to your ass Your body goes numb With just the thought Of this little intrusion Your mind starts bickering About what's real And what just an illusion Did what you just felt happened, really happened? If it's real, was his intension wrong Or was it just the traffic Inside those four walls Before you could figure out If this was the time when you shout Or you lock your mouth with an Unknown key and throw it somewhere Where it's never to be found The traffic outside those walls Starts clearing up And the vibrations from the engine Pulls you out of your thoughts Your stop comes and you get off With a crazy beating heart And a banging in your head Almost, like boring a hole Over and over again A hole in the memories From just five minutes ago You walk away Feeling like the whole world Knows exactly what happened And you feel Every pair of eyes around you Focused right at you When really, they were just A few blind puppets Dancing in this world's hall So much to say but silent like a broken doll
I am not going to assume who you are and what you are feeling within yourself in this moment. I don't really know if it is joy that life has offered you today or if it is grief that is making you question the purpose of life today. I don't know what your relationship with life today is and I don't find it right really to intrude. I don't know anything about you and that is why writing this to you feels like a beautiful undertaking because our relationship is not yet marred by a heavy dose of expectation or nostalgia.
I am guessing that maybe you want me to tell you that it is all going to be fine? This our lives I mean.
I don't want to. I really don't because you would have heard this too many times and now I just want to tell you the not so poetic reality of life just as I experience it every day in between the rare moments of glory. Maybe then you can know that we, you and me are not so dissimilar in our extremely Ordinary lives which connects each of us in the most extraordinary way possible.
You see I walked my grandfather to the clinic the other day. While walking to the clinic to get his old heart checked I saw a girl holding onto the strong shoulder of her grandfather while alighting her school bus and I held onto my grandpa's hand a little tighter wanting his heart to live on for ever you see . For my sake. For the sake of my relationship with him. For love. I need his heart to keep beating. And grandpa just smiled in his ordinary way and I had to make do with this small mundane gesture.
Today I received a call from my best friend that she will be shifting to the other side of the world for her higher education. Now how am I to handle this? The one with whom I had been my most goofy vulnerable self had decided to freeze that version of me within long distance calls. And in the most ordinary way she said that we will learn to make the distance shorter through the digital world . And I had to make do with this assurance.
All I am trying to say is that life is not that poetic.It really isn't. It is bare, it is vulnerable , it is open to errors, it is just what it is. And yet when you come to think of it, it is life too that gave me a grandpa with such a vastly kind heart even if it has grown old now, it is life which gave me a friend I am willing to time travel for. So I guess in the end , life is ordinary but that is exactly what makes it so beautiful. That something that is so beyond our human understanding Can be so ordinary in its essence? I just don't want to tell you that life is going to be fine you know? I want you to know that Life is going to be everything. Fine, not so fine, ordinary, extraordinary. And that's why you are so lucky to be Living it. Because you get to experience Life in her entirety.
And It is my only wish that you come to have such a deep relationship with life that you embrace her in all her shades and even love her more for it. Through it all. The ordinary And the extraordinary.
Sita's patience, Draupadi's rage, Shakuntala's silence, Desdemona's loyalty, Helen's courage, Austen's pen mastery, Anne Frank's purity, Cleopatra's wisdom, Malala's confidence, Elizabeth's smartness, Mother Teresa's greatness, and millions like them yet unique on their own living, fighting, spreading love and happiness, but ranked always on the scale of skin, height, curves and name to measure their beauty. When all they ever ask is respect, understanding and compassion, their eyes shining with tenderness and arms stretched to say "hold my hand."