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  • wasabi 2w

    I love the glisten in your eyes,
    the lengthening of your lips,
    your eye-smile
    welcoming me
    everytime and always.
    ©wasabi

  • wasabi 2w

    October

    Oh October,
    Off you left a year ago with promises to look after
    Oneself. Nice meeting you again with a bag full
    Of year earned experiences. Tell me about the battles
    Owned and the battles
    Outgrown for the peace you yourself
    Owed. It is okay. I know it was tough. It is
    Over. You
    Overcame. Now rest for a while before you go again.
    © Hira Khan

  • wasabi 2w

    1st Oct' 2021
    10:13

    Hey, Oct. ��

    A C R O S T I C
    ( October )

    An acrostic is a poem in which the first letter of each line spells out the word.
    •••
    #october #acrostic #musings #resurrect #phoenix

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    /October/

    Oh October, here you
    Come to greet me,
    To seethe me, To dust off things grown
    Old, to embark the arrival of new
    Beginnings, to pat on back, to
    Embrace me for holding on, to
    Recharge, to reset and to eventually resurrect.
    © Hira Khan

  • wasabi 8w

    Stage I : Maujza
    "I am stalling talking to myself from a very long time now. And now my body is ranting itself, I should try a little to talk to myself", I said to myself.
    I decided to record my voice rather than writing on paper my thoughts as writing meant living my trauma again through words. Whereas speaking comes passive to me. I could talk about my cries at a distance while recording than writing and living them first hand.

    Stage II : Recordings
    I sat down and opened my recorder. Recorded many short audios. Took many long pauses in between one recording as well. Sometimes I cried between pauses, sometimes I wriggled in corner but I kept on recording in breaks.

    Stage III : Whimpering
    I didn't listen or even opened the folder where I stored my voice notes for a week and half. Then, one day, casually, I opened knowing the destruction it could bring listening to my own trauma, I did anyway, thinking it cannot be worst than this.
    I listened, put my palm on my mouth so that my shrieks won't disturb my neighbors. I wanted to cry but no tears came. So I kept on shrieking and whimpering at the same time.

    Stage IV : Stirring. Lump. Promise.
    Whimpering for hours, I hydrated myself.
    One of the sentences I recorded was, "I don't want to die before dying." I was a person whose mantra was to Live Life Fullest. And I used to quote often to my friends, "Babumoshai, Zindagi Lambi nhi Badi honi chahiye" (Life should be great not long)
    That's why this line stirred me.
    In evening of that day, I recorded again in whimpering voice.
    I picked up and gathered all the courage in tatters and made a small clayey lump, coated it with thin layer of faith and closed my eyes to feel it.

    That lump of feeling was me trying to go against my familiarity of being a byproduct of my living trauma and acknowledging my current situation is not right but toxic, To stop adjusting and accomodating, to move.

    I decided to lift my feet digged deep in ditch for decades. I promised myself that if it will hurt, I won't push more.

    Stage V : One and One and a Half Foot
    So, I lifted one foot and It didn't hurt that much I thought it would. I lifted second and it did. Not that much but considerable. But I lifted it again and tried putting it ahead to walk. One foot. Half foot. One and a Half Foot. Two Feet.
    Slowly slowly at the snail's speed. I walked and walked.

    Stage VI : Boundary of No Man's Land
    I looked behind and saw myself climbing the boundary of the tornado I was in. Like the area of No Man's Land in war. Echoing the direct affect of ongoing war. Enjoying the scene meant staying there and in a little time I could get eat up again. So, I rushed a few steps and reached a little farther to boundary where I could feel the ruins it has been inhaling and circulating in never ending loop.

    Stage VII : Third Point Of View. Unattached distance.
    The view was breathtaking but risky at the same time. I walked a little more and reached the point of Third person. Where I can watch all the third point of view people near me were giving me. It's like the radio broadcasts to people near or outside warzones, quite raw but still only the people in war can understand it.
    And I swear, It was Ugly. Pathetic. Pitiful and Unbearable.
    I was at 'unattached' distance now.

    Stage VIII : I could walk
    I walked a little and realised I am enjoying this. So I walked more for the sole purpose of I could walk now. There wasn't any problem in lifting feet now.

    Stage IX : Look Back Not Behind
    I have walked considerably by now. At a safe site where people take refuge under calamities they can't control.
    I looked back first time. I didn't look behind. I looked back. A distance I can put in words. And Ran. As fast as I could. Fastest from any animal I knew. I ran for my life. I ran. I ran even after breathlessness. I kept on running. Like the way therapist says, when you encounter a toxic situation, run as fast as possible.

    Stage X : New Land of Misery and Metaphors
    Now, I couldn't see any signs of calamity that happened.
    It was a new land. It was the land of realisation that I've made it through. It was the like hoisting a flag after days of steep climbing, unfavourable weather and empty stomach.
    It was the stage where I could laugh at my misery and struggles in face, Express with metaphors describing the feelings I couldn't name before.

    Stage XI : I Am UNSTOPPABLE
    Making a new identity. Before I had a reason. I was busy in ruins. I couldn't attain my true potential. It was just about surviving. After years of being locked in a slum room to out in the sky as far as my eyes could see. I have to thrive now. I have to make a new identity. Solely about me with badges I achieved and lessons I owned.

    I know, I am UNSTOPPABLE now.

    © Hira Khan | 20aug'21, 14:24

    * High background score plays *
    * Looks into the camera *
    * Ending scene- cuts *

    #autobiography #wod #pod

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    Autobiography of my Healing-
    'One and One and a Half Foot'

    Stage I: Maujza
    Stage II: Recordings
    Stage III: Whimpering
    Stage IV: Stirring. Lump. Promise
    Stage V: One and One and a Half Foot
    Stage VI: Boundary of No Man's Land
    Stage VII : Third Point Of View. Unattached distance.
    Stage VIII : I could walk
    Stage IX : Look Back Not Behind
    Stage X : New Land of Misery and Metaphors
    Stage XI : I Am UNSTOPPABLE

    © Hira Khan | 20. Aug. 2021

  • wasabi 29w

    30 March' XXXI
    15:55

    Walking on the sahil of Nile,
    Your face illuminating in reflection of stars.

    Without worries and hidden pain,
    Without responsibilities and gain.

    I will meet you there,
    Where you will be smiling all along
    And tears of glitter ooze
    from corners of your eyes

    A vast area of blue sea
    With no objections and expectations of thee
    And as far as you see
    There will be vacuum where you can scream
    I will be there to hold your hand
    and you won’t have to quiver in holding it back.

    No face, no shape
    no fame, no shame.
    In your heart
    Without visage, without silhouette
    You’ll find me again.

    I am the kid who wandered away
    While you were growing up
    I amthe kid, listening who,
    you postponed everyday

    I was there
    When you voluntarily failed twice
    before bleeding cerise

    Cause more than leaving
    you wondered about the ones who you will leave
    When your dimples became dark circles
    Smile lines transformed to frown lines
    You shuddered your burdens
    Closed your lids
    It felt heavier, your shoulders felt weak
    Yet you keep on moving
    for you were tagged adult
    and to handle everything, it was difficult.

    © Hira Khan | 30.03.2021

    ~~~~~~~~
    Just because we are tagged adults doesn't mean we can handle everything. Every societal expectations.
    Mental health is important. Speak up. Share. Inspire.

    Bg credited to rightful owner (s).
    #LetsLive #miraquill #pod #writersnetwork #writersbay #story #mentalhealth

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    Nile

  • wasabi 29w

    29 March' XXXI
    15:55

    Oh,
    what will you fill
    in the void only you feel

    when it is quite choking,
    the quiet you speak

    Oh,
    will you let it incite the insight
    or allude to elude

    for how long will you be on loose
    stalling what you have lost and yet to lose

    will you come forth or wait for realisation
    to hit you on doom’s fourth.

    Oh,
    what will you do when it’s you
    who you have to find

    will you go out to buy motivation
    or sleep on the inspiration to stop by.

    Here, hear me
    You are not a week’s weak

    It is your heart that was sick
    And it is okay to bleed

    But it has been more than few 7 days
    Stand up, you feline!
    Peel, see your bandage is all healed

    You are not a flyer or freebie
    You are the Queen.

    © Hira Khan

    •••
    The bg belongs to it's illustrator.
    #pod #writernetwork #writersbay #bagpack

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    Void

  • wasabi 37w

    31 Jan' XXXI
    22:36

    You are the Cosmos flower
    bathing in pixie dust
    I am a far fetched celestial, awestruck
    longing to feel you
    seeing you blooming from my light
    from lightyears afar.

    //oh, what would we have been if we're reachable?//

    © Hira Khan

    #celestial #cosmos #longing #bloom #lightyears

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    Cosmos & Celestial

  • wasabi 41w

    4 Jan' XXl
    22:38

    You can make me cry, can make me wither.
    I may get on knees but I’m tough to own.
    I can be a silhouette of pain
    but I know all the hide alleys that opens in dark.
    These days may not be getting over
    and Sun is soaked out of shine.
    But baby, I know how to sow seeds
    and how to grow light.
    “I’m my Own Sun”
    © Hira Khan

    #pod #sun #miraquill

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    Sun