Bombs

She was shivering in the middle of the room. Staring at the red candlelight structures clustered together, connected to a timer that was counting the hours down. People stared at her from outside the glass wall separating her from them. Separating her from rationality. But her eyes were fixed on the bomb, the alluring red structure that fascinated her, she wondered why she couldn’t draw her eyes away from it. “The timer is going to go off,” they yelled, “you will be blown to pieces,” they screamed, “back off before it’s too late before you regret it.” But the girl did not acknowledge any of this. She thought she could dismantle the bomb. She could navigate through that complicated wiring and make sure it didn’t explode. However, she was no bomb expert and the bomb was sure a hell complicated. Someone manages to break through the glass wall and runs over to her. She looks at the person, begging her to back off and she closes her eyes. Rationality grows dim and she brings her focus to the bomb again. “Even if the bomb explodes, I can handle the explosion!” she says to herself, “I can handle it because I know its every detail. I could not even begin to imagine how had it would be to leave without trying.” Then. there came a loud sound, an explosion ringing through her every bone and vibrating through her body. You were my bomb.

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Tornadoes

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You told me that you once saw a tornado. That the tornado in all its chaos amazed you because it was glorious. Even when it wrecked havoc, it was something to be admired. Something people would never forget even if they tried to.
It’s funny how I feel the same way about you. You wreck havoc but take my breath away. You are something to be admired from afar, yet I am drawn to you.
You are wonder and amazement my dear. A tornado caught up in the middle of a mediocre word. But I see you, really see you. How you change your intensity. How after you pass through; just like a tornado, you wreck havoc. The kind of havoc poets will romanticise about. The kind of havoc that leaves me wanting you to strike again. The air gets colder and I see people taking shelter as they scream at me to do the same. They don’t see your magnificance, feel your fierce energy that makes the blood in my body gush, that makes my heart beat faster.

After you pass through, I’ll thank the weather and ready myself for you to come by again. Farewell for now, my beautiful tornado.

Juxtaposition

I think the worst part is scrolling through old messages. And memories and feelings. The worst part is having to deal with knowing a person so well and being strangers at the same time. When I scroll through our messages, I can almost lose myself in that time. Remember our inside jokes? Well I do.
When we were both consumed by something common, I dare say each other. I can lose myself in the time when you wanted to talk to me and wouldn’t mind going the extra mile to make me happy.
It’s funny how I always though that you understood my passion. I assumed that we’d motivate each other and make it.
But you left me behind. You left me and walked ahead without even looking back to see how I felt. Well I felt pain surging through me in case you were wondering. But I know you aren’t. Because you didn’t Look Back.
I barely recognise the person you are now. The person who isn’t even a little warm towards me.
So I walk around everyday replaying out old conversations in my head. Do you remember the ones that would go on for hours? Getting your attention in the first place is quite a task. I do understand that you’re busy. But I really hope that you do not brush aside our good memories.
I’m at girl who always hoped that you would look back and see my smile disappear. And understand, that in that moment, I felt a sense of loss. Understand that you left me confused, wanting more and disoriented.
But if that’s too much to wish for, at least walk with me once in awhile.
– 19th Aug 2015image

Chubby Girl

imageChubby girl dresses up and smiles
She thinks she looks stunning, dolled up in her pretty dress.
Chubby girls friend’s tell her that she’s too fat to fit into her dress. Tell her that she can only pull sexy off, if she decreases in width.
Chubby girl is confused. Her reflection tells her that she’s beautiful. But her glowing face soon morphs into a face of confusion. The tectonic plates shift in her mind.
She begins  to picture herself with a smaller body, a smaller body that screams perfection. Her spirit grows smaller and smaller.
Smaller, thinner, not fat, beautiful, ideal, size zero, perfect.
Chubby girl looks down, at the floor. She cannot even remember why this dress made her feel special. Why this dress made her eyes sparkle and made her feel alluring.
“If only I was a little thinner, yes, then I’d look fantastic in this.”
Chubby girl puts the dress away. She looks at the clothes of her wardrobe and feels distaste. These clothes are for people like me, she thinks. Chubby people.
Chubby girl fights the choking feeling in her throat, puts on a brave smile and walks out the door.
Her friends greet her and ask about her “pretty” dress that she had on. Chubby girl tells them; “I’ll wear it in a few months.” In a few months when I’m closer to being normal. Thin. Ideal. Perfect.
Chubby girl is then saved by a beautiful voice in her head saying, “Yes you are fat but you are so much more than that. You are beauty and perfection in a different form. People will not always understand you. This is where you get to be more mature than them and remind yourself that not everyone, can understand what it’s like to appreciate a stunning piece of art, like yourself.”
Chubby girl is then at home again with herself.

Embracing You.

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Embracing Differences
Who are hypocrites? I’ll point you to the people who talk about how liberal and open minded they are about embracing differences. When a change comes one day, they run away screaming.
Do we really embrace differences? Our history textbooks are filled with human beings trying (but failing) to keep things the way they are. We are evolving. Each day as we take a step, we walk into the future while our steps fall into the past. Tis a wonder to behold. How far have we come today? Let’s take a look at some of the new differences our society is struggling to embrace : feminism, the LGBT community, obesity ( thought I doubt this will ever be embraced), colour blindness and so on.
In a close minded community, people tend to be ashamed about their differences. Instead of wearing this proud mark of uniqueness on their sleeve , they hide it away in a dark closet. How apt does coming out of the closet seem now?
Our society talks about being different and unique yet we force people to follow OUR norms and hide their differences or criticise the people who have the valiance. Flawed, a new novel by Cecelia Ahern highlights this phenomena beautifully. It is about a girl who is perfect, yet one day she screws up and is forced to join a group of people termed as “Flawed” as they do not meet the standard norms.
The Scarlett Letter, another book that rightfully casts a spotlight on this phenomena. Forced to wear the letter A as a mark of punishment, the protagonist is shunned for adultery.
Our literature, music, media and so on is filled with the message that scream, “BE WHO YOU ARE.”
Then why must we confine ourself to small places? I’d urge you to wear your difference on your sleeve and be proud of it but we all know how hard that is. So instead, take a step back and look at the bigger picture. Wait for that moment to inspire you. Give yourself this one chance to be who you are, even if it’s in the small space of the four walls of your room.
When you’re inspired, it will come automatically. You will see that you are brave and strong and inspiring in your own way. You are a miracle, your differences, a part of your identity.
Give yourself a chance to scintillate.

Incredible India

The music pumped beneath my feet,
Arrays of colours bouncing in beat with the music, lights playing on the ceilings and people lost in a trance with a smile on their face.
I’ve realised that I’ve come to underestimate imagemy culture. Then again, when you’re so used to something, you forget to see the wonderful detail and take things for granted.
India shouldn’t be seen by the way that the government runs it.
When you look beyond that, it’s filled with such diversity in every sector. Be it dance, music, food, clothes, the people. Our cultures and traditions are astounding and have such deep historical roots to them. That unification is one that is simply magnificent to watch at big events such as weddings. We have an idiosyncrasy that sets us apart and makes us one of the diversified most countries.
India is probably also one of the most colourful countries in the world ( mostly due to the deserts.)
To anyone who has made the mistake of looking at India through the faults of the government, I  urge you to look deeper; for I assure you, a sense of resplendence will occur .