Reflections of an Emotional Day

Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Pexels.com

I cried today. In front of everyone. For something that happened fifteen years ago. It’s called childhood trauma, it seems. My parents did their best. That’s why it hurts to break their hearts. But, I am my own person. I want to live in peace, without being nagged by my parents everyday. I want to heal. I want to be free. And, as my friends said, freedom is the best reason to fight and to heal. I suppose I never thought of it that way. But, yes! The biggest and greatest revolutions happened and still happen, to gain freedom. Freedom is the highest ideal, both as a people, and as an individual. And, it’s worth fighting for. Every single scar speaks of our journey towards freedom. Every single wound reminds us why we fight. The process is long, winding and non-linear. But, there is nothing more important than freedom and peace. Every person’s peace equals global peace or at-least, contributes to it. Every person’s freedom (as long as it does not infringe on others’), gives rise to a more evolved, safe and secure world. So, start within. Charity, always, always, begins at home.

As I pray for strength of spirit to cross this storm of mine, I have the most most wholesome shelter in place – my friends (as always). Love heals, love saves. That’s all there is to life. Not perfection, not obscene wealth but love! The kind of love that is loyal, reliable and dependable. The kind of love that stays; that feels eternal. To me, love is equivalent to my friends and friendships; the love that feels like forever; the inexhaustible treasure that replenishes rather than expends.

In addition to the warmth of friendships, there is another rarer skill, a secret that rescues us even in our depths of despair and gloom, when no-one else can seem to help. That is the art of self-love. Self-love is giving ourselves permission to rest and relax, without consequences. It is also the practice of hoping and believing that this too shall pass and, we will make it to the other side. Hope/self-love does not well up inside automatically. It is an everyday chore: of getting up even if everything is futile; of crying; of sobbing our hearts out; and still, holding on. A scrap of faith that lets us live day by day, breathe minute by minute, is self-love. It is a habit that has to be cultivated. It’s not straightforward; it’s hard work. But, like I read on the internet, “May you be brave enough to choose yourself – even when others don’t.” – Alex Elle (@alex_elle on Instagram).

Choosing ourselves is an act of rebellion, because we are conditioned to believe that it is selfishness. However, we are not taught that, like every other thing, selfishness is not all bad; it’s not all black. It’s grey. Selfishness can be our defense; it can be our coping mechanism. It doesn’t make it right but, it doesn’t have to be right. We are allowed to make mistakes and learn from them. After all, to err is human and, we are humans, after all. Being flawed is our quintessential purpose and trying to reach that forever elusive summit of infallibility gives our lives meaning. Striving towards being better (and not flawless, it being an unattainable adjective) does not mean we can be judgmental towards others, who are striving for their own versions of meaningful lives. Being judgmental is, in turn, infringing on others’ freedom. So, live and let live is the most succint way of living peaceful and free lives.

Climb mountains, jump into the waterfalls, sleep, eat, walk, run, scream (of course, without harming others), live your truth. Fight for your truth. Fight to be free. Practise peace; preach what you practise (without annoying others). Breathe in the beauty of the world surrounding us; breathe out the relentlesss noise inside our minds. Easier said than done, I know. There are few things that are more challenging and still fewer, which make our struggles seem worthy. Be proud of your scars, for they speak of battles fought. Have faith in who you are, for you are a unique combination of star-dust and biology. As long as your heart beats, follow its rhythm; dance to its tunes; and, you will never have to drown in a flood of dilemmas and doubts. We may get beaten down, but we can always take shelter in the shadows of our hearts, which continue to pulse resiliently. Listening to our hearts, we know we will be alright.

Love yourself, give love, ask for help and be open to others’ love and support, for none of us can live without it, and, see how the world begins to shine a bit more brightly and how the heart weighs a bit lighter. Amidst all those sorrows, smile. Find a reason to smile. It may be a childish sketch, a stranger’s joke on the internet, a bird’s call; for the silliest of reasons, smile. Smile and work at self-love. Have a little bit of hope every day. Keep trying to find faith in the strangest of places. Accept love from all corners. Find peace. Live fully, deeply, with flaws. Despite the flaws, believe in yourself, in others, in the universe. Despite flaws, fight. Make a change. Create a better world, a kinder world to live in. And, in that place, in the changed world of your dreams, where your best hopes and faith are realised, be free.

Photo by Jackson David on Pexels.com

Midnight Musings (#7)

Girl on a swing in the City of Love

Source: https://pixabay.com/photos/woman-paris-swing-elegant-view-4761424/

On a cold night
Rainy but not wet
Heavy and set
Sat a girl on the swing
She laid down on it
And gazed above
At the dark black sky.

There washed upon her
A feeling of peace
And joy and content
And wonder
At the world so high
Quiet and clear
Without a sigh.
She fell in love
Yet again
With the too-bright city
That she called home.
She was in love
With its quiet corners
And silent spaces
Amidst the racing roar.

She fell in love
With life and light
That could surprise
Her sullen self
And let her feel safe
In the endless chaos
Of her self-doubts and dilemmas.
She loved that moment
That moment of feeling
Of being at peace
Of being distant
Of simply waiting
For the storms to pass by.
For she believed
And she held on
With all her might
To the thought
That this too shall pass.
And she will be the lass
Broken and wounded
With scars that smarted
But still stood tall
As a hope for all
To see, to learn
To have faith
In their own quest
To live life with zest
And plenty of rest.

Midnight Musings (#6)

Why do I give people
The power to hurt me
How can I not change
Even after thousands
And millions of heartbreaks
I'm still picking up the pieces
From when my heart broke last time
I'm trying to piece them together
But, one or the other keeps hurting me
I wonder sometimes
How my heart has the capacity
To feel things, even after all this time
Always, immediately responds that tiny voice inside my brain.
(I'm such a Harry Potter nerd)

I do not know
If I should laugh or cry
This has become a pattern
This breaking of hearts
I want to cry
For all the love I've given
But never can seem to get back
Maybe, that's the whole point
To learn that love
Is only to give
Not to be gotten back
To become strong
Despite being vulnerable
Maybe that is compassion
That is how kindness
Can and should change the world.

I always end up
Asking more questions
Than finding answers
Maybe, that's how life is
As long as we ask
The right questions
And try to find answers
We stumble upon truths
That are both powerful and transformative
That changes us from the inside
That gives us our superpower
(To become an Avenger
Or a member of
The Justice League)
To help and hold
To hope and give hope
That despite everything
We are worth saving
Our stories are worth sharing
And this life is worth loving
And our love is worth giving.

Happy Women’s Day (March 8, 2020)

International Women's Day
My phone is abuzz
With wishes
And inspirational messages.
I was feeling
None of it
Why?? I asked myself
I am in a slump
In one of my darkest depths.
Everyday
I wake up and wonder
Why my reality is this
I am not inspired
Nor am I inspirational
Why should this day
Matter...at all??

But then,
I realised, I felt
These wishes are unfair
They should include
Me and women like me
Who feel like failures
And struggle everyday.
What message do WE need??
Not one of goals and achievements
That's for sure!
Maybe
It should be
One that applauds us
For just being us
Without our external
Accouterments
Accomplishments
Maybe
They should be
Wishes
Just for our tired souls
For being brave
For holding on
For letting go
For existing
For surviving
For simply being.

Happy Women's Day
To all of you (us)
No matter who or where
Or how you are
Just for being you.
Wish you a lovely
Peaceful and joyous
Women's day
Not just today
But for everyday
That we keep trying
Hoping, living and loving
For a better tomorrow
For a brighter destiny
For a lighter heart
For a graceful spirit
And a lively soul.
Each woman writes her own story!

Image Source: Image by Zizitom from Pixabay

Each woman is a unique tapestry of colours and combinations!

Image by Alexandra Haynak from Pixabay

We unite to rise up! We come together so noone getes left behind!

Image: The first suffrage picket line leaving the National Woman’s Party headquarters to march to the White House gates on January 10, 1917.

Image source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_first_suffrage_picket_line_leaving_the_National_Woman%27s_Party_headquarters_to_march_to_the_White_House_gates_on_January_10,_1917.tiff

Love, February.

As February(the month of love) ends on a leap day, here’s a special poem that I wrote as a tribute to the words and language that tie us together across boundaries, just like love ❤️

What would we do without you?
Without words, without language
How would I ever confess
I love you
How would I ever call
My beloved
Oh my love, come hither
And warm me, hold me
For just a while longer
Till the sun comes
Till my fight resumes
Hold me tight
On this cold February night.
Alas,
All I have
Are these words
To give me warmth.
Still,
I have these words
To shield me
From the plight
Of this lonely night.

Love,
February.

P. S.: Wishing you(and myself 😉) nothing but right in March!

P. P. S.: Image source: https://www.publicdomainpictures.net/en/view-image.php?image=275719&picture=thinking-about-love

Valentine’s Day 2020

Happy Valentines (or is it?)!

Oh what’s this game
Played with beating hearts
Love is its name
Cupid aiming his darts
Will it be a hit or a miss
Will we love each other to bits

The hit gives such a high
Higher than the highest mountains
But the miss
It dives deeper
Than the deepest oceans
Leaving crumbling remains
Of a shattered heart
And the heavy burden
Of an anchored soul
Anchored in the high seas
With nary another soul
In sight or flight
With only doom and gloom
For company inside

As I write
So I realise
I carry and I feel
The pangs of a beaten heart
More than a happy one
Is that what is special
About me and mine
That unique ability
To have a friend
In solitude and celebrate
To treasure my torn heart
To cherish the gaps and cuts
From which pour
My feelings in words
My art in colours
My passion in poetry

Maybe it is true
What they say
Having loved and lost
Is better than
Not having loved at all
Yes I am a romantic that way.


Once Upon A Sunset

I wrote this two years ago, thinking back to the amazing sunset that I witnessed on the beach of Ostia Antica in Rome. I have never been more at peace than when I was there: on the far away beach of a foreign land, by myself, surrounded by black sand, pebbles, gentle waves and the occasional surfers and airplanes flying across the sunset. Ohhh, you should have been there to see it! It was a spectacle: full of possibilities and joy. There I believed in myself, and I loved myself for who I was and who I was going to be. I hope this poem brings to you that feeling of love and completeness that it brought me.

Somewhere, a long time ago
There was this happiness that I knew
Out of time it grew.

The kind that settles deep within
Breaks ground blooming
Sprouting colors of joy
Amidst the shadows of sky
Golden, blush and purple
Grey, blue and subtle.

Sunsets are a lot like love
Burning passion this moment
Cooler warmth the next
But forever the fulfillment
Of two souls that magically met.
Scene I – The Beginning
Scene II
Scene III
Scene IV – The End

The Soul Spices

Life is tough. But, friends and family, sunrise and sunsets, clear blue skies and a warm breeze help us smile and get through it all. I think, a sincere acknowledgement of the nature, people and the planet that give us so much to live for, that spice up our otherwise mundane lives, is warranted.

It would do us well to recognize what we have and appreciate all of it, even the bad, because it has shaped us to who we are today.

It is always a good day to be grateful. So, here goes:

Warm words and smiles 
Emotions without art
A sky full of stars
Blessed souls one and all.

Life with its ups and downs
Bumpy and beautiful
Like, streams with rocks and pebbles

Oceans that feel like peace
Mountains that feel like home
Books that feel like a holiday
Friends that feel like forever

Songs that fill up the universe
Beats that rhyme and pulse
Yield sighs aplenty
Of joy and content.

Breathe in the divine
To believe and thrive
Breathe out, let go
To live and love
With abundance and amity
For now and eternity.

The Girl in the Red Dress

I never knew her
The girl in the red dress
I saw her
On the Charles bridge
Walking across, on her heels.

I loved her
The lone girl
Crossing the rain
Under an umbrella
In the dark, on the bridge
Where, Street lights and statues
Stand as Sentinels of virtues.
I knew It was folly
To fall for her melancholy.

I lost her
Carelessly, on a train
Helpless and insane
She haunts me still
As a memory
Of having loved, and lost
Too soon.

I never knew her
The girl in the red dress
A contrast to the rest.
She was special
Among other things vain
In the golden lane
An art to adore
At a souvenir store.

I only ever knew her
That girl in the red dress
As a sketch, Of black and red
In the castle, much ancient
At Prague, magic so vibrant.

That girl in the red dress
She dwells in that stretch
Flesh, blood and bone
Style, spirit and soul
Where, paintings come alive
To pipe and to jive.

The girl in the red dress
That portrait, that piece
Forever, I shall reminisce.

I fell in love with the city of Prague. It is shrouded in ancient magic that both isolates and enriches the city’s allure. It can only be understood by experiencing the magic, by standing under the statues of Charles bridge at twilight, by wandering around the streets on a cloudy morning and absorbing its quirky charms. Simply put, it’s romantic, in an old world sense and I would be delighted to go back another time just to feel the magic throb in my veins. I got a small painting as a souvenir, of a girl in a red dress, on the Charles bridge. But, I lost my bag at the end of the trip and all my souvenirs along with it. It’s still a sore memory but I would never, ever forget Prague or that girl in the red dress. This is a tribute, to her and to Prague.

Star-pockets: a toast to love, life and Korean dramas

A mother advises her daughter on a Korean drama I watched, that, marriage will  never be easy. She says, “Collect your happy and bright moments like stars and store them in your pockets, so that, whenever there are bad moments, you can look at your star pockets and receive  comfort from them”. The whole drama was like a book, comforting, in small doses. But, what I have also realized through this is that, life is never easy and that star pocket principle applies to everyday moments too.

I and my two best friends used to go to the beach in the evenings, lie on the sandy shores on our bags and just stare at the moon and listen to the small sound of the waves. That was 4 years ago. Now, we live far away from each other. Life is running its course and those moments, that shined so brightly, I may never experience them again. I remember their sparkle and the warmth but where do I go now, for the same warmth and comfort? Life looks bleak, if I think of it like that. But, the most wondrous thing is that those memories bring  forth a smile even now, and even though it is not happening right now, it is enough to tide me over.  Life becomes bittersweet, if I think of it like this.

There are many instances or examples of life being a bittersweet journey. My parents’ youth is one such. My dad is going to be 60 this September, i.e., in a few weeks. I remember him pushing me on the swing, decades back. That is one of my earliest memories. He was 35 then. Where have all those years gone by? I don’t remember. It all seems like a blur and I feel I am doing him a disservice by not remembering the distinct passage of time. I still don’t feel like he is going to be 60. Although he is world weary at times and wisdomous due to the years lived, he still holds idealistic hopes and has humour and heart. He is my father, my strength, my fall-back person, the constant that will always be present. But, what do I do when he is getting old? I am his kid and I love him too, in my own way. But, I am selfish and I will need him, always. How do I or how do we get over this? The answer, a different Korean drama tells me, lies in gratitude. Here, a character narrates that, time will pass and so, there is no use in holding back and having regrets later. So, the narrator says, “tell your loved ones, when you have this time, now, that you love them and say thank you”.

So, I say, I love you, to my parents, my brother, my friends, K-dramas, and a huge thank you for their love that’s kept me sane all these years, through thick and thin. As I kept writing, this has become a tribute post to my loved ones, although I always assumed it would be a more cheerful piece. But, I realise I am growing old and world-weary as well, and every lens is tinged with a bit of nostalgia, despite looking forward to greater  adventures. Love and peace, everyone!

PS: Go on, open up to your loved ones. Express your appreciation, let them know how much they mean to you and how, they make this short existence, a worthwhile one!