How can you be YOURSELF??

How does it feel when you keep on hoping and longing for something that completely takes a U-turn in the end? How does it feel when your dreams and hopes go for a toss? How does it feel to see your private spaces being invaded constantly? How does it feel to see the New Year coming and struggling to rise up in crumbs? $#!t?... Yes.. I know it feels like $#!t

Like derailment? Like a Tsunami? Like a holocaust of your feelings and love??...

No! It is just the time and the Immortal who are playing games that leave you helpless like a loser. Helpless like a spider caught in the middle of its half-woven web, not knowing whether to clutch the twig or fall down to the ground!

You then realise how it is being a mortal in this world. Being a person who always strived and strived to bring happiness everywhere, trying to strike a chord between imbalances, bringing together two repelling forces poles apart! What did you get by being yourself? What on earth did you achieve today?

Try thinking about those happy days now. Think how you would dance around everybody, hopping from one place to another, making family--friends and friends--family; bringing together two important pieces of your life closer!

Now try thinking about the real-time situation. The Now of Now!!... Hah!.. You have no one; the family is just a family.. and your friends are no longer your friends. You are estranged in this mortal world. Left in the lurches of unhappiness, sacrificing your happiness for people in your immediate periphery!... You would see nothing but a Cruel game that people play, a hapless you victimised by that ostracize and hatred which blossom in your people, rising like the Beanstalk! You.. being the receiver of all, yet acknowledged by none; instead being blamed for and strayed away - why? Just for the things that you do?! Just for being YOU!

You hoped to make things fine on the last day of this year... what happened? You failed. You saw all your helpless efforts turning futile. So? what do you do now? Resign to your fate. If you cannot change it, take refuge in it. Accept this cruel fact that butchers your hopes, dreams, happiness and eagerness to start a new year in a zestful manner.

You cannot! You cannot win over you destiny that is decided by the horrid sands of time. You cannot triumph over your fate. You are a mere mortal! Do not aspire to be that special cherub of the immortal who sees layers of horizons of happiness sans any troubles, tears, broken relations or who has to make any effort to save one relation forsaking the other!

Resign to your Fate. Resign to your Destiny. Resign to the Time. you mortal.... resign to and take refuge in the IMMORTAL!!

The Single Female Traveller

The Future as I see
is a beautiful place to be.
But I am a kind of BEE
who dreams to fly free..

There are few rules for me
to abide dutifully,
"Love thy family
and take care by thee.


I wished to travel across.
My dreams are going for a toss.
As I put a cross
to the wishes, being so gross!

Is the world not made
for the Single female traveller?
Thought to be precious as a Jade,
and the worlds harsh as a blade!

Here i lay confused.
My works and aspirations being fused.
Though the opportunities seduced
me, its intensity gets reduced.

I dare not blame Anyone,
for it's the society being so Lame.
Security playing a game.
And the Question of hurting the name!

The situations being same.
and me being a dame!
Understand the question of fame.
Not only fame.. but the Aim..
of protecting me from the
Sharp world refusing to tame.

I now understand the motive,
For my family being so supportive;
They, being so dottive..
Knowing which, I thus say
Loving them is my SUPREME MOTIVE!!


-one of my first poems. It was composed in just five minutes after i had a conversation with mumma about the (futile) possibility of me going abroad like my brothers :(

Maiden over throes

Being my primordial blog post, i dare not move away from the norms of writing online!.. [consideration requested :) ]
I always dreamt of having a space of my own.. where i could say all that i wanted to say!

command: OPEN MY CHILDHOOD.MEM [mem= memories ;-)]
During my childhood, I of course had that space somewhere near my own immediate vicinity... all the sheets of paper..that neglected chunk in my study almirah which everybody thought was a pile of waste papyrus products that could fetch some metal in return. Back then, I didn't mind them being reduced to half their sizes as I saw the junk-guy segregating and selecting only those which could bring his share of money from the recycling yard. And every time I saw this, i had a hope that my straids will either bring a descry to these people who would find something amusing in that paper junk while feeding their predator recycle machines and bother to run their eyes over... or that they will go into an invisible time portal that turns them into discreet memoirs of a little girl who wished to be open to let her feel out.

command : RETURN TO PRESENT.dontbug
My present almirah is my mini junkyard too, where the childhood reminisces of these insignificant incidents are brought by some or the other cue! Though it lacks the unusual permutations and combination of english language in it as pieces of paper, there are new entries to this wishlist however!
My strange habit of writing poems when my senses are scratched, when the serenity of the self is disturbed and the tides go higher in me irrespective of the size of the moon! The new way of expression of feelings had made me feel lighter since the poems revolved only around me and my notions of self or the irked senses towards the disrupted vista of life! This was however mistaken by many, in many ways... Some viewed it with an optimism, while some with negativity.Though nobody expressed anything with the exact usage of their verbals, it was very evident from their nonverbals (courtesy: psychology text) and the queer use of words for those who decided to compare their supreme knowledge with this itsy-bitsy fantasy of expression in my poems. A balance of push and pull on my poems made their progress stall and i had to think of other innovations towards crafting ways of easing the load on my tiny bundle of nerves that were receptive to external loci...
So, while a few poems that currently exist and can be found adding a credit to my "sense and sensibility" and my sensitivity, they lack the capacity to hold all the thoughts. Maybe that is why Jim Howard invented a blog two decades back!!
It is not a question of how useful is this blog is to bring out puissance in the hunches hidden in the deep corner that don't come out of the alley unless an incitement. But, it is the question of how useful is this space for me to come out of the world that i had been limited to; and explore the better or the worst tantamount & hold the records in Howard's Donation! :)