I smell liquor.
off your mouth in a grey evening
standing close in a crisp white T-shirt,
staring into my eyes
hazel to teal.
I hear Nina Simone
from your playlist.
Your heated whisper “Because you’re mine.”
And you pull me into
those comforting arms of yours,
my only place to abide by.
I see temptation and need.
Your hoarse voice
echoing the lifeless walls of my room
“I need you so.”
I am on my knees now.
Your honesty disarms me,
your touch makes me reel like
I am a spiritual beast
in search of piety.
I sense fear
In your jagged breathing
with your head on my chest,
your arms encircling my waist.
My unsteady heartbeat not mirroring yours,
you look at me.
Searching for disclosure
my masked emotions deceiving you.
You take me at your pace.
Slowly, savouring every bit.
I will worship you
For you showed me the depth of walls of passion,
for you beguile me
and I let go
daring to fly, daring to be Icarus again.
And despite me being torn up,you have a wealth of love to give.
You didn’t run.
You chose to lay your world at my feet.
I will tell you tales.
of maple scented whiskey,
of sensual mornings,
of your legs braided in mine.//
I will tell you tales.
of scandalous affairs,
of queer humans,
of my body feasted by you in our dens.//
I will tell you tales.
of numerous Beadon Streets we walked,
of sidewalks we laid our feet on,
of barricades we tumbled upon.
I will tell you tales.
of your soggy lips,
pastel blue with a shade of warm red,
which smell of lilac coloured evenings.
Here I am now,
You snuggling up to my chest,
Both of us draped in prism shades.//
The Pride month is drawing closer yet the situation here, in India doesn’t seem to change.
Don’t you want to see rainbow flags draped over their bodies, marching and singing?
Or do you want to keep them out of the streets? Saying they don’t belong here? Thinking they are filthy creatures in our so polished society?
I am straight but all I ask to our fellow citizens is to support the LGBT community. They are us. They are humans. What grave mistake have they committed by being born?
Shout out against gender inequalities and biasness.
Picture © Anna Dart
I am staring at the fabric of my life and dread begins to find its way toward me.
I am blanketed by the moons of Jupiter and the vicious emerald blood of my planet flowing through my veins.
I am watching my epitaph. It stands still, but it is coated with films of betrayal and false promises which reads “Staying happy in her own skin.”
My stomach churns. My ribs ache with pain. My head hurts with all the noises.
Fear is something which only you can control it and know it like it fits you like a glove. Only you can master it. You are all you have. Bear this in mind. The sole solution to all your problems is your fear. I have kept it away from me as I loathed it like rotting meat. When you merge it with patience, what you get is a secret, potent weapon.
I stand naked right beside my epitaph. Worms manifest my body. They are making their way toward my vagina and I stand immobile. I am choking on my own.
My carcass is a maze. What I have acquired now is the possession and power to pursue and see through it. This time the earth beneath me stands firm. Patience has never been kind to me. What I harbour is new to me. But I can’t figure as to how it will end. My emerald blood boils red. My fear rises.
A strong wind takes me by surprise. My moons no longer help me. They wither away with the first gust of the gruesome wind. All I have is me. A tired, old rag. I dance along with the incoming gusts. I sway to the wonderful rhythm. I create my own demon and unleash it. Together. Naked. We conquer the vulnerable.
The weight of the world is no longer on my shoulders.
Now I know that fear is inconsequential.
Now I know what I am worthy of.
Now I know where patience can lead me.
As you can already figure out from the title, I have finished reading To Kill A Mockingbird and I just can’t get over Boo Radley and Atticus Finch. Harper Lee is purity. Its perhaps one of the best books if all time and please give it a read if you haven’t, already.
Holidays are finally here and school has ended for now. I can’t believe the year is coming to an end, though. But honestly, this year has been the year of fuck-ups and the worst of all.
Though I am a Hindu, I have always loved when Christmas is around the corner. Park Street will light up again and it looks like a thousand bucks worthy as usual. Everyone spending time with their families, couples roaming and walking hand in hand, fairs, circuses and of course fairy lights. I can’t point out any reason as to why I don’t like December. This month brings everyone together (pretty much) and festivity is always in the air.
As it is vacation time, I plan to read Catcher In The Rye and Kafka On The Shore. These two little books were waiting patiently to be read and now I have the time to do so. These two final weeks of my December will consist of studying, competing God awful projects, and of course weekly tests. I plan to get through these in the utmost cheerful way possible. Because carpe diem, friend.
I hope 2017 won’t let me down or is it the other way around ? I will take my leave now.
Enjoy the 25th of December. Do whatever you feel like doing. Because its not everyday that you get a 24-hour long break. Am I right?
I have decided to start blogging every Sunday to stay in touch with my followers. Apart from that I would be posting my writings.
So, yesterday was a little less hectic than the usual days. I actually managed to watch an hour of Orange Is The New Black. I have never watched it and when I saw it I was like – DAYUM. ITS SO GOOD. Most of the Indian soaps are based on superficial stuff. I have not been able to wrap that around my head. I mean I have got WAY much better things to do than that. So, why bother?
So, I am aspiring to get into a medical college and pursue whatever fits me. I have always wanted to get into medicine. Because there’s probably no other thing which I could do for sure. Physics bothers me than every other subject. Thing is, this is the first time I am letting on something which I never say, not even to my best friend. Aspiration – what this word harbours is really dangerous. I have completed studying for next week’s test and I am good to go. School is well, boring. I plan everyday to carry Charles Dickens, but we are not given free periods. They say the usual bullshit – Class XI you gotta study and all. This is what I don’t like – the approach to make and encourage students to study. But I am not complaining. Done that. Just stating what I don’t like.
Also I have been requesting my mother to pay for Netflix so that I can catch Gilmore Girls on screen again. But. Oh well.
I will pop up in your news feed next week. Bye! Hope everyone has a good and productive week.
Now that he is gone, you don’t look forward to the rays of warmth peeking from your window. You plan to put your phone on divert mode and pull the duvet over your head and get lost in the longing emptiness. But your limbs will you and you get up from your now ragged mattress and the ground beneath somehow supports you to the dining space. You are both angry and sad at yourself.
Was there anything less? Maybe he was tired of my whiny talks every night. What was it that made this happen?
Even as you mourn your loss, you are happy that he died before you did. You can still wake up knowing that he won’t be there beside you, curled up like a rose devoid of thorns. That you have to order for one every time you decide to have coffee. You are happy that he died before you because as you walk through the streets with your arms folded, you will be reminded of the walks every evening. He will be there to ensure that you don’t trip and fall.
Even though he is gone he will always be there to heal you. You will dig deep into those arguments and the moments and would want to know every fibre of what he meant.
Men are literal creatures. They usually mean what they say. Maybe I wasn’t perfect enough for him, then. Was there nothing that I could’ve done? Just to undo this? This pain hugging my chest?
As the hands of the clock tick by swiftly, he will heal you. He will make you remember what you meant to him and how much compatible you were with him. He will show you what you are still capable of. Still worthy of.
Even though he is gone, he will see through you and nurture the hope. He will heal you and see to it whether you dare to dream again. Whether you would be willing to try and start afresh. With time he will teach how to how growing up means “turning your pain into a rose that is easy for someone to hold”. With time, he will teach how healing isn’t just reciprocation.
Picture © Agastopia