The body so fragile, it breaks in a moment,
The heart so brittle, it shatters by few words ,
The life is capricious, it ends without a notice,
Yet you are sound and safe at this point,
Yet you mend your heart everytime it breaks,
Yet you live this moment with much hopes for next second.
The crux of now is just so simple,
That you are a miracle of the creation,
That you are miracle, don’t you ever forget…
The waves of emotions come and go,
But the still and steady coast of relation always stay.
The impulses of the moment drives you blind,
But the love that grows is slow and kind.
The people that attracts your senses may be intriguing,
But the ones that nourishes your soul are rare unseasonable rain.
Don’t fall for the breezy strangers that sweeps you off your feet,
Instead keep the gentle comarade that catches you when you fall…
Chirping of the night creatures,
Humming of the electricity,
The light people are falling down,
And the night children are wide awake.
The stillness of the air makes the sound of pen on roll crystal clear.
The smell of the moist dry earth soothes like no other .
It’s the night that is showing its magic or the work of the ink,
That the clutter in my mind no longer lives…
She was not the usual beauty,
That made her the unique one.
She didn’t conform, she didn’t bend,
She was opinionated with loud and clear determination.
She would not back down by your bullets,
She will rise again with her phoenix wings.
The palette is so bloody red with the colors of my heart,
I take it out for you to borrow,
But you kept it for own cause.
I gave you my heart away to keep it safe and sound,
But you colored your canvas of life,
With the bloody red of my heart…
She see herself in the mirror,
She sees her reflection and she is pretty sure she loathes it.
Why does she feel unworthy of being adored,
Why does she feel unworthy of self-love,
Is it the random comment that points out how her body has changed?
Or is it the specific judgmental voices in her head that seems to be ashamed of her?
Or is it the casual insults used by her loved ones in a “joking way”?
Should she tell them that it bothers her?
Should she tell them that it’s depression that is making her eat uncontrollably?
Should she tell them that she starves herself whole day out of loneliness ?
Should she tell them that she can’t change her genes?
Or should she shut them off as its none of their business?
But what does she tell her inner voices?
Who placed such dialogues in there..
Was it the parent who rejected the 12 year old’s changing body,
Was it the crush who rejected a genuine admirer,
Was it the school teacher that rejected the talent just because of a number on scale of weight or colour.
When did we start treating a child like show stopper,
When did we start berating a child for his or her individuality,
When did we start comparing it with the poster child when in reality the child is an unique perfect creation.
It is time to stop, it is time to think before we say or look at a child,
Because it is watching us, observing us and learning from us.
Strangely it adopts our impression of him and continue to treat himself the way we did.
We are the voices,
Think before you act in front of a child,
As a broken adult she will shut other’s mouth but won’t be easily be able to shut the voices in her head…
The one thing that makes me is also the one that breaks,
It does not slow down even if I can’t take it anymore,
Every thought is out of its shelf, it’s a mess;
There is a need for a way to sort them out,
They float around in my head giving me answers that I ask for,
But they sometimes go on a rampage, questioning my questions.
Fears, feelings, memories, words, images, people, ideas, they are all in there,
You wont be disappointed if you search for galaxies in there.
I can let you in if you are on a soul searching voyage,
But be careful or else you will loose yourself;
You won’t be disappointed if you search for galaxies in there.
I explore it by the words I write,
You explore it by the words you read.
She is harmful for herself because she let’s in toxic people,
She is dangerous for herself because she never says no,
She is unsuitable for herself because she let’s people walk all over her;
You must think it’s her fault to not take stand for herself,
But let me tell you that the little her couldn’t think for herself,
The little her searched love in pain,
The little her believed that being hurt was good and normal,
Because it came from ‘them’;
‘Them’were the people with whom she started her life.
How do you expect that she would have questioned her blood,
So, now that’s how it all hardwired in her brain.
She is not unfamiliar with the terrible mishap;
And she knows that she is in love with pain…
The ends are seeming too conclusive,
That makes you feel it’s inaccessible now.
You may not perceive the fact,
That you never were accessing at all.
The memories are always with you for life,
The moments are never to be owned.
The endings that make you feel down right now,
They are previews for an upcoming beginnings…
Your ignorance doesn’t lessen me,
But it is a question what it says about you;
There is no reason for you to be mean,
But you still continue with your hostility.
It doesn’t say anything about me,
But it says a lot about you.
It’s understandable to be self served first,
But it’s incomprehensible to be self focussed always.
The way you look at me may make me want to feel unworthy,
But it is not the definition that defines me.
I won’t say a word to ask what did I do wrong?
Because there is nothing I need to prove you;
Then what is it that you need to prove,
As you go and try to make a point by scarring Me the way you do…