A Contrasting Malaise


The smoke fills the air in the house, the ‘havan’ has just finished. It’s supposed to be a religious ceremony where all the negative energies in the house are collected, the god’s and goddesses are prayed to. They say that, during this ceremony there is even a time when they descend down for the ceremony’s completion and sent back. Where are they?

I want to see them. I want to see the negative energies in the house and in myself and I want to see them go. I want to see god take away all these negative energies. I want him to see that everybody is a mess.

Despite the circumstances, the beautiful colours, clothes, faces, exchanges of gifts and money; what really lies?

I want him to see.

I’ll hum a tune, and you’ll never know what song it is.

I’ll wait, wait till you’re done. So you’ll come back and smile.

But you won’t.

For that I have to let you go.

I’ll walk here, and you’ll walk there. I’ll smile.

They’ll tell me, it’s a beautiful smile. Is it now?

The one that can’t reach my eyes. The pain is strong, intoxicating almost. When it’s a part of you, it hurts. But slowly, like the stream of water seeping into something, It gets into every cell of my bloodstream.

Sometimes, rushes too!

Like poison in a mortals body, as though it’s counting seconds and longing to finally turn into a vampire because otherwise, it’s just painful. Then the remorse hits you. You howl, plead and scream. Hope. Hope that this seeping pain will either go away or fill itself completely. And slowly, it fills you. It fills you like a glass being filled by a jug. It has too much to give and you, too little to take. There are shivers at first, and then comes numbness. The wonderful gift, better than alcohol or anything else. The numbness loves you, and you love it.

Pain, hurts you. Numbness, calms you.

Somehow nothing that anyone says matters and you want to smile because you’re a mess but so is the world. You realized that sooner, much sooner that your friends have or they will.

I wish I could say, but hey who’ll listen? They all say they will.

They don’t.

If you’re reading this then you already know what pain is. It’s a happy high or a constant stab in the stomach. I want to look at my foot and touch it, feel it because I know it hurts.

I know that the car that ran over it, was heavy, I know that the tier as it rolled over my gentle skin of my foot hurt me.

But I won’t look at it, because it’ll make me realize; the stabbing pain.


The suffering that our body goes through. These unhealed wounds, incomplete desires of beauty, cuts, aches, and fractures are they anything compared to how really hurt we are or we have been?

Do you want me to tell you? I will, I promise to write them in flowery words or just plain reality. Will you cry and sympathise or leave it to say- “How unhappy.”

I Am. I’m unhappy. Discontented. Unsatisfied.

I wanted to be, now I’m crippled. Not permanently, temporarily. I don’t like how my sickness restricts me. The fact that I’m scared of going out or that everywhere I go, I look at every man and wonder if he’d manipulate, lie and rape.


So as these smokes, slowly creep into the molecules of the air

The ‘havan’

I’ll ask god to take away my pain too; this suffering and maybe he’ll listen.

With it maybe, he’ll also steal away the cause of this all.




A Drop Of Uniqueness


 Fearful dense grey clouds scream out loud, begging for attention. Disturbing the peace of so many living beings down there, it forgets where it originally  got it’s source of strength from. The oceans below, still remain below and yet higher.

With every moment ,giving a part of itself to these majestic being, or that’s what they appear to be.
Out of the intense anger and fierce barking out of them, and between the thunder strikes falls a little drop; he’s a little being, fragile and scared. Unknown to this world.
No one to call his own, no one to whom he belongs. Or does he? Technicality is different, reality is another. Who is to nurture him and teach him his fate?
He steps down slowly, actually falling, wondering where gravity would take him. Alas! Foolish was  he for he tried to hold on to the air and wind that crossed his paths now and then. Little did he know how it feels to let go of something you love so dearly , or when you try to depend upon something other than yourself.
He journeyed down still hoping, learning and watching. He could feel the same wind that once comforted him giving him intense pressure and pain.


There were others like himself, drops of H20 making their way into the giant mass of rocks , soil and water. He wondered if they knew their destination or purpose of being but later he forgot about all the intense questions. The pain was unbearable, for gravity pulled him so strongly and the air pressured him.

In the world of complexity and materialism we forget the real questions of our actual being, the  question of who we really are and to whom we really belong. We forget.

So there he was travelling, his curiosity long gone. Misery upon himself.

He felt something shaking dramatically, something that almost killed him. He looked around and wondered, it wasn’t the air and it wasn’t the rocks below or the grey clouds above. This time it was him, changing.

From a little drop of water, he became a beautiful white web of being. He felt as though his confined self had discovered wings, like a butterfly was fluttering out a cocoon. What was this? Who was he?

The question had returned and now his destiny fulfilled.

He was now a  snowflake, not just a snowflake a beautiful, unique, self confident independent being.

The air, wind, clouds, pressure had transformed him, and the confusion made him confident.

He wasn’t just a drop of water and he didn’t look like the others anymore. He was different, he was now the true him.

So now his purpose is fulfilled, and his destiny lay back to where it belonged, in the ocean. Back, to where he belongs.


My soul’s only muse.

You’re my soul’s only muse.

The years sprint through time as I hide my inner voice. “Don’t be crazy”; I say. My soul listens patiently. It whispers back to me,” Your heart that loves other men is only muscles contracting they will cease to beat eventually and your body that lusts will wrinkle you silly!”

I ignore like I always do. We have to enjoy life don’t we?

 ‘But I’m eternal, I belong to someone who’s a part of thee.’


You’re my souls only muse.

When my mind says it’s okay, and my heart approves, my soul denies. It doesn’t belong to me. Words like love at first sight, imprinting and soul mates sound insane in today’s day.

Yet, two souls belong, and people fall in love. Not the world’s love, the true love.

Soul’s love.

It can match no physical relation,

And no touching sensation,

When even miles away you know he’s yours to be.

Like your world revolves around only he.

When you’re tailor made for a reason,

To stick around every season…

I’m a dreamer and I won’t deny

You’re my soul’s only muse, I can’t lie.

Maybe I’m a bit too cheesy and a crazy romantic, but you bring light through the spectrum of life. I’ll  probably never be yours, yet I’ll always be.

You’re the prism of my soul, turn the white monotonousness into seven colours of life. My only source of light. I don’t want to make you mine, I’m already a part of you.  Sometimes it isn’t gravity it’s you other soul holding you.

God descends in many forms, for me it’s you. ‘Like my personal brand of heroine.’

Cared for me like my father would,

Held my hand like a friend should,

Blessed me as god could.


My muse. 🙂