yourarmy

Simple one trying to deal with complex things holding the scar, trying to fly really far

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  • yourarmy 4d

    I have seen it in pictures many times
    But never right before my eyes
    Its vast arms spread left me amused
    Roar present in the air gave me goosebumps.

    I was terrified for a second
    By the unknown feel carried by wind.
    I tried to collect each possible
    angle of its view in my eyes.

    I closed my eyes and took a deep breath
    There is magic in the oxygen inhaled
    My mind got rid of tensions and the noisy world.
    I sat on the pile of sand without a second thought.

    My sight fell on the beautiful shells around
    I picked a few and went to wash in the salty water
    A small wave hit my feet filled me with joy
    I played with them like I never had friends.

    I saw seagulls catching something
    I didn't want to disturb their feast
    I figured fishing boats approaching the shore
    I was left shocked when I saw their huge catch

    I ran towards the place, where I sat
    I was followed by my bare foot prints
    Sitting there I saw an artist painting
    The blues into red, orange, pink and saffrons.

    It was the best day I ever spent.
    It was the first day I had ever been to a seashore
    Now I often visit there on leave
    Yet each time feels as if my first visit

    ____________________
    #first #wod
    @writersnetwork

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    First Time

    ©yourarmy

  • yourarmy 5d

    Today I am trying to Ink
    The feeling that I feel under my fat
    the stories crypting under a thick sweater
    Experiences holding its breath under an ocean of green tea.

    Yes, I am a girl
    Overloaded with mass.
    Yea, I am a girl who often seen as a teddy bear
    Who never fails to attract the bulliers towards me.

    I often make fun of me
    In front of others, so that they don't get a chance
    I starve in the name of the diet to cut that extra fat
    I try to stay alone because I am tired of trying to get fit in the lot.

    No, I don't eat leftovers
    No, I don't need a gunny bag outfit
    I don't need sympathy and suggestions
    I just need friends to accept me for who I am

    Why can't I wear a sleeveless dress
    Why can't I dream of a prince
    Why can't I jump in joy
    Why I am your funny toy

    Stop calling me fatso
    Stop comparing to elephant
    Stop lame jokes about changing the door
    I pity you, How your heart is so poor.

    ____________________________________

    #stopbullying #fatso #fatme #chubbygirl #extrafat #weightloss #whyfatty #beingchubby #beingfat #fat @writersnetwork @writersbay @miraquill

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    Hey, Fatso

    ©yourarmy

  • yourarmy 5d

    Baby sorry for being addictive
    It is love which made us cry
    This distance is killing me inside
    We can never be back and I am out of try

    Sorry for all those lies
    Which gave you smiles
    Sorry for all those fights
    Which were my rights
    Once I was yours, now called an unkown
    Baby it hurts, when you became so cruel.

    Thank you for sweet kissses
    Now a pricking memories
    Thank you for soft touches
    Remembering it life sucks
    Once I was yours, now called an unkown
    Baby it hurts, when you became so cruel

    Exchange of emotions you needed
    Now for what your mind greeded
    That you left me bare handed
    Without thinking, without you I would be dead
    Once I was yours, now called an unkown
    Baby it hurts, when you became so cruel

    Baby sorry for being addictive
    It is love which made us cry
    This distance is killing me inside
    We can never be back and I am out of try.

    ___________________________________

    #yourarmy #heartbreaks #memoriesthathurts #lovehurts #cruellove
    @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    Lost Love

    ©yourarmy

  • yourarmy 1w

    Dear wonderful Audience

    I indeed write to express
    But when a notification pops
    It boosts me to write another one.
    When people around me try
    Suppress my feelings into silence
    You, people, make it louder with reposts.

    But sometimes I wonder
    How you guys are? Happy?
    Frightened? Sad? Confused? or lost?
    I think about talking to you
    But I hold back thinking that
    I may make your mood worse.

    If you are happy
    I am really glad to know.
    If you are low, talk to me
    I will be here to exchange good vibes.
    If you are lost, hold my hands
    I will try my best to hold it forever.

    You are not just the audience
    You are hope, that guide many paths
    Now we are unknowns, but
    One day we can be good friends.
    Before accepting failure
    Don't forget that a friend is here to care.


    __________________________________

    #audience #wod @writersnetwork
    @miraquill
    #yourarmy

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    Dear Audience

    ©yourarmy

  • yourarmy 1w

    I heard people saying Nature is the ultimate healer and Supreme teacher. I always felt it to be a bullshit philosophy. How someone can understand my sufferings, pain and feelings. Words cannot heal my mind. My wounds are deeper than you can think. And my final decision to come out of it is to put an end to my breath. Awakening the courage in me I sacrificed my vein to the edge of the blade. The dark room crowded with silence and my eyes closed slowly. When I opened my eyes It was morning, yes it was a failure. I understood that my collagen fibres are my protectors.

    I came out of my room with disappointment. I sat on the floor looking towards flowering pots and plants around. My mind started observing and gathering things. What I see is a bunch of yellow dried leaves that lost their relationship with their loved ones, and looks like the plant don't care about it. However, the new spring leaves are its favourite now. I see those faded flowers which looked beautiful, a day before and the bees that were praising them yesterday have found new ones today. Looks like the climber hugging the stem have forgotten about the broken twig which was its support. Even the cut stem has stopped oozing and has started healing itself. Who cares about the lost, who cares about the past, once you are gone, what you can find is status, Captioned " gone too soon".

    No one cares if you are a loser or a loss. No one remembers you forever. Then why the hell you are ashamed of failures, mistakes, miss pronunciations. No one is born a perfectionist, they are made by themselves. Live, Live for what you are, Live for what you wanna become. Live to prove yourself that you can. Never get tired of failing. Deal it, If you want it. Deal it, as you mean it.


    ________________________________
    #yourarmy #sucide #motivation #whytokillyourself #lost
    @miraquill @writersnetwork @writersbay

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    Suicide

    ©yourarmy

  • yourarmy 1w

    Here comes an end to
    the never disappointing November.
    I loved watching beautiful yellow leaves
    And naked trees, holding a cup of coffee for warmth.

    Here comes an end to
    the eagerness for my birthday party.
    I miss those surprise celebrations, gifts, belated wishes
    And company of my loved ones who said sad goodbyes.

    Here comes an end to
    the long Wait for Christmas.
    My mind is getting ready to unwrap the
    new fun, new gifts, new beginnings and new resolutions.

    Let's bid a farewell
    To a beautiful month of joy
    Welcoming the month of celebrations
    Saying, goodbye November and Welcome December.


    #novendc
    @writersbay
    #yourarmy
    #novemberending

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    Farewell to November

    ©yourarmy

  • yourarmy 1w

    It's 3rd day. She has become quite moody. She yells at me, easily gets irritated by our mischievous son, she gets tired doing daily chores and sometimes passes out on the sofa leaving the television and lights on. I am used to it now. It had been 4 years that we are married. But each month brings the same mood swings to our home. Now I am an expert at managing these situations. I help her wash clothes, all credits go to our hardworking washing machine. I keep our rooms clean, I take charge of our son on these days and she tries to be calm by talking less controlling her will.

    But sometimes the situation gets out of control. Ruthvik, my son gets into a fight with his mom. He stays clueless about his mom's behavioural changes. He says," mom it's difficult to understand you, sometimes you are too nice and sometimes you are really bad". I am not mad at him, because when I was of his age I went through the same situations. I fought with my mom for preparing something I don't like because it was easy to prepare. I fought with her for not sleeping beside me for a few days. I was upset when she refused to play with me. I got mad when she couldn't come to the family trip. I was heartbroken when she bet me for pushing her into the pool. But I have seen her crying after beating me. I saw her sleeping hungry when I didn't eat food. I saw her sleeping on the floor so that I shall not get scared. I miss her that hug that came after her beatings. I miss those tasty food made to convince me. I miss her. I failed to understand her mood swings but she never failed to love me the same. Love you maa.

    _________________________
    #yourarmy #moodswings #periods
    @writersnetwork

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    Mood Swings

    ©yourarmy

  • yourarmy 1w

    Our friends were having a discussion, one of us said I love the fragrance of jasmine. Others started saying rose, kerosene, burnt dia, mango etc. I joined saying I love the scent of rain. They all nodded heads as if it was one of their choices. It had been years that I am stuck in an 8-9 job. But whenever it rains I try to sit in an open place seeing it, inhaling the feel it carries. Wow, what magic it holds...!!

      It was 4 pm, suddenly it started raining, the scent entered my home had opened a box of memories forgotten I the corner of my heart. I remember why this smell always arouses my inner child. It triggers that day where I never bothered getting wet in rain, I never thought what dirty water is. I remember after getting home grabbing some hot crispy pakoras with those muddy hands. I love this smell. For some it smells muddy, for some disgusting, few find it odourless. But I find the fragrance of memories, lost emotions, the forgotten me.

    Remembering all the gold things I went near the cupboard grabbed some albums and sat in the entrance so that I can see it rain. I was deep into my good days. oh, yeah, how I can forget this? She was my first love. We played in rain, we sailed seconds lasting boats. We stood under the tree enjoying that scenery. It carries her scent too. While I was lost in thoughts A strong hug of air-popped on me, Ah, I got goosebumps. Hugging him I closed my eyes, I can smell him, he is pleasing, comforting. He is the replica of my good vibes.

      Closing my eyes he took me on a tour. I saw myself in my mom's arms, my dad is holding an umbrella protecting the three of us. Where we are going? See it is my mom, she is making me wear a sweater and cap, yeah, I look like a monkey. She is holding me in her arms dad came with two cups of chai and some snacks. They are talking to me. What are they saying? Oh look it's my tiger, we loved playing in rain. Mom scolded us many times. Not for getting wet in rain instead for spoiling the lawn in rain. So beautiful isn't it, we didn't have a helmet so dad brought us 2 polyethene covers. I was not ashamed of wearing it in public at that time. It was dark and raining outside, I am sleeping in between my parents, so warm and comfortable. I am hugging my mom and dad is hugging both of us.

      A thunderstruck loudly opened my eyes, my eyes are wet, I am smiling. I am sitting alone in the same place where we three used to sit, but now I am alone. Things moved, I too but they never left me. They are within me. Whenever I smell it, the scent helps me live the lost moments once more. If you ever feel you are alone, come out of your blankets, sit in a corner seeing rain, breathe her in. She will bring out the people that you love to stay with. This is how my rain smells. What is yours?

      ______________________

    #yourarmy #rainydays #scentofrain #lostdays #memoriesinrain #whatrainbrings #lostmemories
    @writersnetwork

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    Scent of Rain

    ©yourarmy

  • yourarmy 1w

       I always find life amusing. Each day looks like a new beginning and each night looks like the pillar of that begging. I grew up like most kids. Childhood packed in uniform, mischiefs punished by teachers, scoring marks as if a race and walking in the path chosen by people around. Till I join my degree I never realised that I never made my own choice. And like a fixed fate after completion of my degree got recruited in an 8-9 job. I met many, girls-boys. Friends, lovers but something was special about her. It is just like a story that never ended and which I don't want to end. I met her when I was 15. After scoring  98% in the race my parents let me enjoy my summer vacations. They gave me a keypad mobile to enjoy my time. All I wanted was to play games who cares if it had internet or not. I played day and night, guess what? Snake game, sudoku, cricket and something that had a monkey to climb, I don't remember the name though. It was fun, for a few days. I got bored soon.

    I went to meet my friends, they introduced me to a new thing called Facebook. They had friends, chattings, groups. And I was curious too. Meeting and talking to unknown people, wow!! That's exciting. I installed it and sent friend requests to all my friends. That night I got a request from someone named Nisha. I was happy to see a girl's request and I accepted it. That night I got a good night text from her but as I was in deep sleep I couldn't answer her. The next morning I replied," sorry, my net was off, good morning". I still remember how much excited I was. She replied, "good morning". Did we exchange common talk like, had your breakfast? Where you are from? Do you know me? How old are you? ....etc. It was our daily routine, so many days we used to start with had your breakfast? to had your dinner?.
    Gradually we were getting close. Day and night I thought about her. I started to like the attention that she was giving me. I wanted it for a lifetime. And I concluded that I will say her. And gathering all my courage inbetween our texts I sent her " 143". She replied, "1432". I was feeling as if I won a war. Wow, what that feeling was. It had been 1 week that we are in a relationship and I wanted it for a long. But suddenly I heard dad calling me. I logged out from google, keeping my mobile in my pocket I went to my dad. He asked, " Were you playing the game?" I lied, "yes". He said, " give me the phone". I thought he got to know about her and I was frightened to death. I handed him in fear. He took it and kept it in his pocket. He gave me a bag. I opened them, they were books. My 11th standard books. He said, " you can play games later. This is the turning point. You shall complete the portions before your teacher does. Start it from today". I was relieved from stress. But I wanted to inform her this, I wanted to say her a proper goodbye, I wanted to say her to wait. But everything ended before the beginning.

       But now sometimes I feel it never ended. I feel to search for her. But you know Facebook, it is not easy to find someone. More than that who knows, was she really"Nisha". Because I was "Rocky" for her. But I am Rishab. Might be this is the reason she never found me. It is not only my story, There are many lost in fake IDs. I know one is within you which raised your puberty emotions, which brought out the Romeo inside you, which is lost inside you.


    #yourarmy #childhoodlove #lovestory #facebooklove #keypadstories
    @writersbay

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    143

    Bring out the story in you

    @yourarmy

  • yourarmy 1w

    Dear Mom,

          I am sorry, I wanted to say this to you earlier but I was scared about your response. I have seen you sobbing in the dark, I heard your cries and I did not want to add on them. I know dad loves me but at the same time, he is conscious about his prestige. All these thoughts pulled me back from sharing anything.

        But now, I am tired of hiding it. I want to say what I went through and what I feel. I feel suffocated here mom. I often feel as if I am caged. I can sense those eyes touching me without touching me. I feel that hot breath even when I metres away. Why it is like this? If a meter of dupatta can save me why not the jeans. Will it be over if I start wearing a saree? If it is so why did I bleed in my uniforms even when I wore a full dress? Why do I deserve that touch which makes me uncomfortable? Going through puberty and body changes made me even uncomfortable. Why did they call me melons? I feel shame for being a girl. Isn't it natural mom? You said it, right? But why society doesn't understand.

      Yesterday I met a kid here. She is just two. What kind of dupatta she should have worn? Does it matter mom? I know girls are bound to some rules, but I wonder, who made them? Does it even help? Instead, why don't they teach them how to defend? Why didn't they stand for me when I was teased? Why I was left alone? Why I was treated so bad? It hurts mom. My freedom to shout was ripped. My eyes were forced with fear, my fully covered body was shared as a treat. I was crushed till death. I faced it, mom, I am brave but proof of the truth should never exist. So they sent me here. But still, I didn't find my answer.

      What was my fault? My dress? My makeup? My job? My fate? Or being a girl? Will be waiting for your answer.

    Your's loving daughter

    _________________________________

    #mirage_poetry_contest
    @lovenotes_from_carolyn
    @kin_jo
    @dusky_dawn

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    Dupatta

    * They said, wrap a shawl
    Though I had wrapped a saree
    They wrapped my body



    * Criminal and crimes
    The victim and blames, if you
    Question face shame


    ©yourarmy