Tag Archives: creative writing

Blogs

My yellow,My friend 💛💛

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There are good days, and then there are bad days. Days that exhaust you and make you feel at your lowest. Where you beat yourself up and let scars scar. On those days, I crave my yellows to remind myself that I am a yellow too.

What’s yellow, you are thinking?

(This was one of the terms that I learned from my YouTube dictionary as a hashtag.)

Ideally, yellow is a person you love, you label it as the person being your yellow. It’s inspired by the “Yellow” song by Coldplay.

“I swam across

I jumped across for you

Oh, what a thing to do

‘Cause you were all yellow”




But the word has so many layers. Maybe today I m in one of those writing and introspective moods that I am here to put my chaotic thoughts into paper.

My first thought was why did they insinuate it with the colour yellow ??

Is it because it symbolises sunshine? Or warmth or a mixture of both.

Google had no answer and I realised it was open to interpretation.

So for the time being the definition for me right now for yellow is you. You are my yellow.

Because the impact that my yellows had on my life is significant because they made me a better person to be in a better place. So I want to thank them in my way, ie, by writing.

The yellows in my life, the friendships we have, are like vibrant colours that add beauty and purpose to my existence. They are like the indelible stains on my life, stains a reminder of things that I am grateful and lucky to have.

Among the kaleidoscope of friendships, I am blessed to have a friend who embodies being my yellow.

So today, it’s a yellow day, a celebration of being yellow, for having a yellow and the profound impact.

The light of positivity 

 You, my yellow, is a light of positivity, a bundle of joy even when you don’t feel like that. You have ounces of optimism inside you, even when you think you are pessimistic, it shines through you. You help me to find my silver lining and pull me out of my shadows. On the days I beat myself up, you remind me that the sun will rise tomorrow again and with it, new opportunities will come for you and you will find your spark again.

 The warmth of my empathy.

 You, my yellow, have an abundance of empathy. You have an innate ability to understand and share in my joys and sorrows, you being my safe space. Your compassion and no- judgement attitude has bought me comfort and also taught me to be there for others when in need.

 The energy of adventure

 On so many days, I would be just snuck inside my blanket reading, if it wasn’t for you. Your adventurous spirit is honestly contagious and I m not complaining. Exploring uncharted territories, trying out new hobbies, and your zest for life, you have motivated me to step out of my comfort zone.

 The glow of support

 Support is such a small word but it means the world to people. You bring that glow to my life, my support system.

 How can someone provide such unwavering support? You believe in me, even when I don’t, you remind me to stop doing swot analysis and Focus on strengths and opportunities and work on my weaknesses while not being a threat to myself.

 You help me to reach new heights and you are my cheerleader. Yes I do vision you wearing short skirts and carrying pompoms and dancing for me .

 The beauty of authenticity.

 You are unapologetically authentic, and effortlessly flawless in my eyes. And , no one can take that away from you. In the world of Barbie dolls , I am in awe of the person that you are, that sometimes ,i feel like you are A AI clone impersonating human like behaviour , that it scares me . But on most days I m grateful , grateful to see your authentic raw real self. I like honest people. And you top my list .

 Why am I writing this? To celebrate your uniqueness. In a world that encourages conformity, you remind me to let my true colours shine.

 You have your flaws too and I, sometimes, am fueled to murder you ,but you illuminate my soul. You have taught me more lessons than my school textbooks. You are my sunshine. So today let me be yours. I hope I brighten your day because, in the dictionary of life, I m very fortunate to have you as my yellow, my friend and I hopefully will love you forever.

 So, my fellow human being. You are yellow too !! At least my yellow because you bring joy to my life.

 What motivated me to write this?

 This week has been chaotic for me, I am still adjusting and somehow, I didn’t find time to write. 

 Because of so many changes, I have been overwhelmed and I started to overthink. Not a good signnn!!!

 And someone had to remind me that I m a yellow in their life.

 Sometimes the simplest things said in the simple ways open up your heart in so many ways.

 So this is an attempt to do that.

 A simple writeup of me telling that you are yellow to me, to lift you on days when you beat yourself up !!

 I will always be there for you through my writings.

 So hang in there, my yellow 💛

 Love you 3000

 Sending lots of love hugs and positivity

 Poestoryporium 

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Blogs

Falling in Love timeline

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Hey !!! I know I have been missing, and there’s a reason for it! My exams have been going on, and I haven’t had the time to declutter my thoughts!
But today is one of those days where I need to pen it down; otherwise, the dam of emotions would flood!
So, I am at an age where people are dating or getting married. This is honestly weird because we saw each other do stupid stuff, and then you suddenly have a weird enlightenment bulb going inside your brain saying, “Congratulations, you have finally grown up.”
But have I? I’m still coming to terms with adulting, and I am already in chaos. I have watched thousands of videos of ‘ That Girl and Getting Your Life Together” vlogs, but my life is nothing as aesthetically pleasing as theirs.
Am I complaining? No
Because I enjoy this chaos, honestly.
It gives me a weird thrill to find and explore myself in chaos.
I get a high out of it.
And I am also slowly loving myself more every day.
So that’s a lesson in itself.
On the good days, I like the beautiful mess, but on the bad days, I ask myself so many questions.
So what do I do to cheer myself up? I read my old journal entries!
“On February 13, 2012, a young girl wrote in her diary that she would fall in love at the age of 21, among a lot of other timelines. She believed in Prince Charming and Cinderella shoes! Sometimes I am jealous of that little girl! Of how untainted and naive she was!
This is true because the same girl is chuckling while reading that diary entry! She hasn’t found love, but somewhere along the line she even stopped believing in it.”
This was one of the excerpts I read, and I have been thinking!
I haven’t found love, and I want to! I want to feel the emotions and everything in between somewhere along the line, even the heartbreak, to know what inspired the great writers to write such amazing sonnets and books.
Would my content be any different if I ever fell in love, or would I change?
Does it make me creatively superior to romanticise about every aspect of my life; we’ll probably find out in the future, hopefully.
So, now, the love gods, please have mercy and send me my prince charming.
I exactly know what you are thinking! She is desperate!
No, I have reached my self-sufficiency level, where I enjoy my own company and am more than happy with myself.
But there are days when I just crave that feeling of wholesomeness and attachment.
Where do I reach out, to seek my Atlas, Noah, or Augustus?
As a hopeless romantic, that feeling intensifies.
Am I being weird ???
I have so many questions…
According to my fictional romantic podium, they advise you not to search for love as it happens at the most unexpected time.
So my next question is, “How do you know?”
How long are we supposed to wait? Shouldn’t we just take matters into our own hands? Isn’t it much simpler?
On a very random note, wouldn’t it be interesting if there was an alarm notification on your phone if you were in the near vicinity of your soulmate?
Maybe someday it will be, with AI and stuff, matching humans based on all your preferences and ideologies and creating clusters. I guess that’s Tinder on the soulmate level.
So isn’t love being duplicated or even coerced into an artificial setting?

I am going off track, I know! But think about it: from our younger selves to now, we have been taught that love is beautiful! But I blatantly disagree! Love is also ugly; it’s transformative and an uncharted territory. For each person, it’s a journey of its own. The twists and turns, emotions, heartfelt exploration, exhilarating beginnings, and profound depths of a simple yet beautiful connection
It’s a poem in itself.
Starts with self-love, as you have to be whole before you seek comfort from others. A plethora of introspection, healing, and cultivation, embracing strengths, and admitting your vulnerabilities often lay a good foundation of love as you seek contentment in yourself before reaching out to anyone else! Why were we never taught this? Our school stories started with Cinderella needing a magical wand to feel beautiful, but she wasn’t. She failed to see herself as anything but a person with low self-esteem and dependence syndrome.
It’s weird how now when I look back at fairytales, they are a mess of their own.
Why am I writing this? Because I know many of us feel the timeline is foggy, but it’s okay foggy, but it’s okay! You are way too amazing, and the other person is searching for you, I promise, or you can just take matters into your own hands.
Love is a serendipitous feeling, and that encounter unfolds something extraordinary.
It’s filled with triumphs and trials, compromises, and emotions, from intoxicating highs to challenging lows. You learn lessons, you make compromises you adjust as sparks aren’t everything to face storms of turmoil.
It’s a catalyst for love and growth. It’s an evolution in itself.
So your timeline right now may seem bleak, but trust me, it will be a testament in itself.

How do I know all this? Books and annoying love-struck friends.
I have reconciled my faith in love, and I’m giving love another chance.
Am I knocking on the door? No
But I am also not putting a lock on my door.
So this is where I tell you to hang in there and not get paranoid about your timeline of love.
Because it will eventually happen.
When it happens, you will have a high of your own.
Till then,
Sending lots of love and positivity.

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Poems

Beware

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Beware
Of the sun, we must beware
When we are gliding through the air.
Though truly happy,we must beware
For happiness can also scar
Maybe the trick is to be taken by surprise
And lady be wise, 
The way to make you do that final sacrifice
The dream is real for those who dare,
Before we even know it’s there,
There are shadows all around me, telling me to beware
Agitating, craving words
betraying me to the dark
Prisoner of my own fear
Representatives and foul play getting the rear
Sorrow ,grief and despair
They’re choking my air
Yet raise the sights, the city lights are calling
We’re ready tonight, the time is right, There’s nitro in the air
In the street is where we’ll meet,
we’re warming On the beat,
we won’t retreat, beware!!!

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Blogs

30 days ,14 posts ,279 followers ,1000 likes,6000 views

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Thanku fellow humans,

It’s hard to believe that it’s been 30 days since I started my blog. In some ways, it feels like it’s been a lot longer, and in others, it feels like it’s only been a few days. Nevertheless, hitting the 30-day milestone is a significant accomplishment for me, and I wanted to take some time to reflect on the experience so far.

Starting a blog is something that I’ve wanted to do for a while now. I’ve always enjoyed writing, and I’ve always been passionate about sharing my thoughts and ideas with others. But for some reason, I never got around to actually starting a blog until now. Looking back, I think a big part of the reason was fear. I was afraid of putting myself out there, of being vulnerable, of being judged. But I decided that enough was enough. I was tired of holding myself back, and I was ready to take the leap.

The first few days of my blog were both exhilarating and terrifying. On the one hand, it was amazing to see my writing out there in the world, to see people reading and commenting on my posts. On the other hand, I was constantly second-guessing myself, wondering if anyone was actually interested in what I had to say. But as the days went on, I started to find my rhythm. I started to feel more comfortable with my voice, and I started to gain more confidence in my writing.

One of the things that surprised me most about starting a blog was how much I’ve learned in just 30 days. The technical side of things, like setting up a website, choosing a platform, and optimizing for SEO. There’s the creative side of things, like coming up with topics, crafting headlines, and developing a unique voice. And then there’s the community side of things which is my favourite part , that is , you guys!!

One of the most challenging parts of the past 30 days has been finding the time to write. Between my full-time job, my social life, and my other hobbies and responsibilities, it’s been a struggle to carve out time for blogging. But I’ve found that when I’m passionate about something, I make it work. I’ve been waking up earlier in the mornings to write before work, and I’ve been staying up later at night to get in a few more paragraphs. It’s been tiring, but it’s also been incredibly rewarding.I also would be lying by saying I wasn’t sidetracked by the hate comments , but you guys reminded me of going forward and stood as my pillar of strength.

One of the things that’s kept me going over the past 30 days has been the support of my friends and family. When I first started my blog, I was nervous about telling people. I wasn’t sure how they would react, and I was worried that they would think it was silly or that I was just wasting my time. But I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the positive response I’ve received. People have been reading my posts, sharing them with their friends, and leaving encouraging comments. It’s been a huge motivator for me.

Of course, not everything has been smooth sailing over the past 30 days. There have been times when I’ve felt discouraged, when I’ve wondered if it’s all worth it. There have been times when I’ve struggled to come up with ideas, when I’ve sat staring at a blank screen for hours on end. But I’ve learned that these moments are all part of the process. They’re the challenges that come with any creative pursuit, and they’re the things that make the victories all the sweeter.
Why am I writing this ? Is it to rub it on your face ? Are numbers that only matter to me ?
No ,I know the title was very catchy and selfish but honestly for me it’s not about the numbers or likes , but the community that I have build for myself . It’s like my safe and comfort space which I am very grateful for . This post for me is on the days when I am low , questioning my self worth and battling my insecurities because i tend to do that a lot .
So I want to celebrate each and every milestone with you guys!!!
Because you are my biggest cheer leaders!
I remember journaling that nobody would like my writings but boy , you guys proved me wrong and that feeling is intoxicating and a new high for me .
So thanku ,
On a side note i read 28 books from the beginning of the year .Do you guys want book recommendations or reviews , comment down below!!!
And I know I am not active with my blog and this specific blog was written a long time ago i couldn’t post it because I am dealing with a personal loss. So i will get back to writing i promise when i feel better !!
And one of my poems got published ( REAR VIEW)
Here’s the link- https://wp.me/p6OZAy-1Q5y
Do check it out !!!


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Blogs

Has reading lost its charm ?

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Being in the 21st century, where everything is fast-paced, I feel like reading has been forgotten. Especially introspecting my life, I felt reading has lost its path, and what exists now is valorized reading.

Something like reading for the sake of reading

As we jump from one sensation to another, from one controversy to another, with an Instagram filter on our minds, this makes me realize that somewhere along the line I forgot to read and that a lot of other people did too.

We can blame it on our short attention span, but at the end of the day, we all reach out for something easy, short, and instrumental, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with it because we live in perpetual amnesia that is triggered by the world being fast and urgent. 

The constant feeling that I will miss out is something that triggers me to take my phone almost every hour, and it’s also something that has triggered a lot of anxiety in these last couple of months.

As I wrote down my thoughts, I figured I had given up on reading and writing somewhere along the line.

And this is an attempt to get back to reading.

If you, my friend, also gave up on reading, you can start again. I’m here to accompany you.

For me, the earliest memories of reading were when I was three and on train journeys. How dad used to get me a magic pot so that I wouldn’t be an annoyance

I am still an annoyance, but my love for books is something that hasn’t left.

Being brought up in a humble household, one of the things that my parents never said no to was books. I used to demand books as presents for every exam I passed. 

I still remember borrowing books from friends and libraries and finishing them in two to three days because I loved the rush.

It came to a point where I was reading Jeffery Archer’s When the Crow Flies instead of my history books before my 10th board exams.

Do I regret it? Noooooo

The rush of having that imagination, the rush of going into a parallel universe where I portray the main character, seeing myself in situations, deciding what I would have done and what I wouldn’t, and complex storylines with spicy images keep playing in my head as a slow-motion movie. Enough that someday I could lend my brain cells to Elon Musk to make an extraordinarily brilliant movie.

All these emotions and memories are something that is beyond description.

Books have led me to a web of my past, present, and future, like an island universe that’s interlinked but not yet linked.

For me, a book does affect me; I feel pangs of grief, motivation, empathy, and all the emotions in between as the character develops. It is a small, intimate space of mine that nobody else has access to—sort of a mysterious realm.

Nothing is linear in life, and as life progresses, one of the things that I gave up was books.

Is there a specific reason? No 

But I kind of discovered recently that one of the reasons why I had given up on reading was the anxiety in choosing a book.

The fear that I would miss out on this year’s nominations, what if it isn’t good, and this eventually felt like a job, not the one I liked, Going through reviews and feeding on people’s opinions got so tedious that for me reading lost its wonder in this process.

I missed picking out random books from shelves, going with my gut, and thinking it might be a hit. Even if it wasn’t, I would at least be able to take something away.

Now, this screams of slobbishness and elitism, but it is what it is: I was consumed by valorized reading, and I started mimicking other people’s choices instead of giving in to what my heart wanted.

Now, why am I writing this? Humans as a whole are very creative animals, and creativity being the buzzword in this digital era, I wanted to start reading again , be soaked in creative juices .

And I have started again, and the feeling is amazing—not bound by social pressures but doing something from a thick desire.

I don’t want to be a person who is limited to WhatsApp archives; I want to go beyond the perfect sentences and let imagination take its toll. And for this reason, books are my comfort space.

Feel sheer joy and delight, feel uncomfortable, have butterflies in your stomach, cry, and feel all the emotions as I turn every page.

I would say you also just need to give a short

I’m not going to preach a lot, but in the end, there’s so much knowledge to consume. Take anything—a newsletter, audiobooks, nonfiction classics—to feed your soul.

To bring calmness into this fast-paced life 

To hold back and embrace emotions and to know yourself better, a book is all you need.

My current read is The ISIS Hostage by Puk Damsgard.

I’m ending this blog with a short poem I wrote on books.

“Now, it’s all being done in the past,

It’s all been written in the book,

and makes you think nothing ever lasts.

Maybe it’s something worth another look.

A string of words floats with fear.

And it encompasses all the emotions in this book.

Nothing is ever black or white.

Nothing comes easy off the hook.

I see people holding on to their past as a book.

Hating themselves more as they look”

If you have read till now, you have discovered my writing is as haphazard as it can get.

And that’s me, all over the place.

So do reach out to me and connect with me so we can share our books and recommendations and get chatty about it.

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Poems

Journey

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Don’t take it serious; life’s so mysterious.
With aid indifferent and imperious,
Leading to a stroke of mad poetic thoughts to make it confute and curious,
We keep it to ourselves, with nobody else around to make us delirious,
From being confused ,or just being vicious.
Reality an antonym of being luxurious.

Years of learning, still never got it right from the start,
Incurious to the criteria which set that apart
All the little efforts were never too serious
Was termed delirium and oblivious.
On the mic of life, leave that to the experienced they say
Yet dreams reality and illusions just being a gateway
Scars and broken wings were never a full stop,
In the book of life to stand at the top.
The remedy always being the experience
That being the dangerous liaison
For ages a bane or a boon lays upon.

Let the Summer in eyes not turn to winter
Partake as it all transforms to stone.
And let the wounds be a bygone .
As mortal as dreams of our own.

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Poems

Goodbye, my crush

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Dear crush,
I have some words to weave,
So that I can let you finally leave,
We met as mutuals,
We clicked instantly, the timing a bit unusual,
We texted long convos nothing like my usual,
I wish I could just put everything back to neutral.
Emotions, feelings I tried to make it hush,
Yet it seemed something that I couldn’t brush,
And then you become my internet crush.
Weirdly enough making me all time blush,
And  you made me feel all the romantic  rush.
You made me feel comfortable in my skin,
Acquaintance or friend, I didn’t know where to sink in,
I wanted it to be something more,
You were something that I have never had before.
I pretended to be unbothered but I was scared,
Because it was all new and I was unprepared.
You were the scintilla And your eyes bought me that,
It used to lighten up my darkest nights,
A glimpse of a text, I glimmer,
Used to help me shine even brighter,
Battling my insecurities and the dark thoughts I was in,
Yet you were never mine to begin.
I was my free annoying sarcastic self with you,
You were everything wonderful, perfect, and true.
Our conversations kept me alive and shining,
Till you found me annoying.
I never intended that but it came to that point,
From your viewpoint, I was a disappoint.
I finally moved away from the city,
I wish there was no nitty gritty,
Yet we were somewhere in touch,
Months passed and everything in me screamed
I wasn’t good enough
Maybe withholding from making a move
But for you, I wanted to make an improve
We talked., I wanted to know you so much more
That I stayed for you to open up
I patiently waiting for your nothing to turn into my sup
I knew it was difficult, you had your issues
But I was always ready with my tissues
But somewhere in the weird what-if scenarios
I knew I could do that, highly optimistic
But boy was I wrong, I wasn’t realistic
You were closed off and shut me off
Yet I tried harder to break through your shell
Though I knew in you somewhere I fell.
Then I moved back to the city,
And you asked us to meet,
I was happy and cynical and giddy.
It never happened ,I was devastated..
Everything got complicated ,yet I waited,
But I consoled myself telling it was okay,
Maybe someday?
Until there wouldn’t be, as I lashed out on you,
You called me annoying and finally, I broke down.
Days later I apologized yet I knew something in us was broken.
We were never going back to being friends,
I knew this is exactly where it ends.
Days later I realized, did I know you at all??
Maybe I didn’t, I just indulged myself in too many scenarios..
I thought I knew you.
I knew a tiny part of you, which I m grateful,
But today I m heartbroken.
I m away from the city, conversations playing in my head,
Waiting for this moment to never come,
My breathing is heavy and broken,
As I write this ,as my grief speaks in poetry unspoken,
But I m kissing my memories with teary-eyed
I have too many words to tell yet I am all numb and heartbroken
As goodbyes I know can never be outspoken or forespoken.
Yet not letting you go
But I know I have to let you go
So this is the letter i weave,
Because I m not the princess in your story.
I walked in your path and had my world collide,
I m glad I did because it’s a labyrinth.
Even if right now, my sorrow is significant,
Bearing it makes me crushed and mystified,
But I don’t want all this to be Trapped inside,
Because in this process I found me,
The writer and character, the setting, and the plot
But I will nevertheless miss you
You were my story to weave
Hence I take my leave……

(Ps All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental)

Thanku for reading till the end , lots of love!!!!!

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Blogs

Dear girl in pyjamas

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“A smile on the lips so wide,

yet there is no twinkle in her eyes.

with darkness on her side

and no one to abide. “

I know this was the line in your 4th grade notebook where you wrote “no one.” You used to hide in libraries and indulge in fiction, creating characters and storylines that were sometimes a bit out of the ordinary for a kid. That was the time when your English teacher told you you had a way with words; it boosted your confidence, yet you felt you weren’t like the other kids. You failed to fit in, and that made you terrified. Why am I telling this to you today? To see from my pov to see how far you have come and I am so proud of you. Every time you won, you topped yourself, or someone appreciated you, you couldn’t see what others saw in you. You always strived to be the best when you were already doing well. You only wanted to be the best, but sometimes better is okay and fine. So this monologue is to remind you of the tiny things you fail to notice with respect to all your flaws, which you are obsessed with in terms of improving. I am not saying that it’s wrong, but you need to accept yourself as a total package and not certain versions of you.
 
I know the world sees you with all your imperfections and flaws and is kind of judgmental, but I love the way you are—maybe more than you can imagine. I know that to reach here was difficult and realizing that you are actually worth something has been a long route, but you have made it finally. And I’m so proud of you, bruh. The girl who loves pyjamas and is happy to be stuffed in bed with some thriller novel and a glass of black coffee can be called mundane to the world, but you are happy, and that’s what matters, isn’t it?
The way you care and are ready to bring the world down for the people whom you love is something that is small yet huge. The smile on your face and how your face lights up even with the tiniest compliments is something that catches my eye. The way you play with a street dog or a toddler, or the way you tease your friends, the way you laugh as if you have had an asthma attack, and all those facial expressions when you see the cringeworthy moments, I would say those are tiny bits of you that normal people miss. Maybe your best friend is right: you would never get a boyfriend because you hate cringy stuff, cheesy dialogues, and unnecessary gifts. But it’s okay. I know you believe in understanding, loyalty, and being with them rather than monetary items. You are hardworking and determined. Your ideologies and morals are the foundation on which so many relationships exist. The world sees you as an introvert, but only a few know the real you, and I am proud of you. You are perfect in all your imperfections.
You fail to see what your friends see in you. You are so critical of yourself that you hold yourself to the highest level of accountability, and sometimes you need to let go! Maybe sometimes you don’t need to give your 100%; your 80% is more than enough for the world. Let yourself breathe, and do not confine yourself to the dictionary of life. Don’t go by the book to live your life. The words “success” and “failure” are relative. Give yourself a break too.
You weave words in such a fashion as to form reality, portraying yourself as a wandering soul.
searching in implications, to construct a paradise of your imagination. But amidst all this, you forget that you are human too! I can write about your shortcomings, but I don’t want to, not today. Because today is about celebrating the real you, the one with imperfections and flaws, and accepting you for who you are.
So, my pyjama girl with a grumpy face, you are the best in my eyes and in the eyes of all the people who love you. Certainly you have had bitter experiences, downfalls, and days when you used to binge watch, have a book marathon, or eat like you haven’t eaten in days. But it’s okay; you have come this far, and I am sure you will survive the Rubik’s cube of life.
Your’s lovingly,
The girl who knows you in and out

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Poems

Dear uncertainty

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Dear uncertainty ,
Strange things can happen when faced with adversity
At this stage , i am looking at you with all urgency,
I wish a superman could have saved that aeroplane,
But thanks to you , it’s forever etched in my memory lane,
The rain god’s took out all their bash
And we took the crash,
And everything happened in such a flash
With 2020 I should have known and expected,
But you my friend , does nothing as I suspected,
And now I have accepted
Us against the universe, and human made disasters,
Covid , Flood , landslides and now a airplane crash ,

Yet i hoped for a tiny bit of Magic,
To change this whole dynamic,
And i as I look around and here I was reconnected,
For Humanity was being resurrected
Yes ,Death and these disasters leave an unbearable pain,
But we fight this together again with no complain
And this my friend is something insane
I know you will come again,
But we will sustain and remain
With lots of love and hugs to you my friend , uncertainty
Thanku for restoring my faith in humanity..

Blogs

Death

42 Comments


I write poetry with a clear head, and my blogs are potentially written when I am vulnerable.
Now, I guess I am vulnerable and overthinking, so that definitely calls for a blog.
For me, writing as a memory is associated with my mother, because she taught me how to write, and so writing on this topic makes it even more difficult.
It took me a lot of courage to start this blog, and I am exhausted and scared to put myself out there.
The blog was an escape for me. Not to face the real world, I guess?
This whole year was excruciatingly difficult for me.
Because death came knocking on my door and it was to visit my close ones.
I wish I could romanticise death as they do in movies and books, but I can’t!
How do you deal with the anxiety and grief of such complex emotions?
Every time I thought I could pick myself up from the ashes and patch myself up, it came knocking on my door again.
Loosing people isn’t easy; you feel like it gets better every time, but boy, are you wrong.
There’s no standard equation for dealing with death.
There’s no right way to grieve. You eventually have to find peace, and sometimes the memories keep haunting you.

I had made peace with death.
Until I saw it putting claws on my mother,
That honestly scared and scarred me.
Call it a privilege, but I never thought of losing my parents. I always thought they would be there as a constant with me. Even the thought of losing them never entered my head.
And the last couple of months have been a haywire in themselves.
I can’t describe the feeling of sitting outside hospitals, talking to doctors, and having to be an adult when all I want to be is a kid.
But I knew I had to put the mask on, so I moved cities to be closer to my parents and made sure I was there for every hospital visit.
It was frightening; every test result and every diagnosis was nerve-wracking.
The number of experts we saw was insane.
But I had to pretend I was okay because someone had to be strong.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t have bad days, but I knew it would get better some day.
So I held onto that hope.
Hope has an amazing placebo effect; it makes you feel good.
But it also helps you understand what is important.
And I understood that my parents were my number one priority.
Why am I writing this at 2:30 in the night?
Because today we are back home, and my mother is okay, safe but not perfectly healthy, but I am grateful and not complaining.
I feel a lot of emotions, and the past week has been anything but turmoil.
And on those days, I am grateful for the friends I have.
I was a planner all my life, but this experience put things in perspective for me.
Why am I putting this out there? Because if someone reading this now understands the emotions that you are going through, it is pretty normal.
sadness, confusion, anger, weirdness, anxiety, feeling left out and neglected, guilt, and being overwhelmed.
I have been there, and I understand you.
Do I exactly know what you are going through? No, because every person feels it differently, but you aren’t alone.
On one side, I am eternally grateful; on the other, I am anxious too.
But I guess that’s okay.
But I have also noticed we don’t speak enough about these moments.
We don’t let the world see how vulnerable we are as people.
So let’s be compassionate about people and the times that they go through, because nobody knows what they are going through.
I know it’s a dark topic to talk about, and I will probably wake up tomorrow morning and think why did I go dark again , but I want it to be out there !!
But, I also want to celebrate the lessons that I learned through the friends that stayed with me and cheered me up.
Because I would have been a disaster if not for them.
Am I suggesting that this traumatic experience is something extraordinary?
No, because even now when I think about what I went through last month, especially last week, it was traumatising, but it did make me stronger and a bit more mature.
I also don’t know how to conclude on this because I feel like there’s no certain way to end things on topics like these.
You just have to deal with it and figure it out, and even if you do, some days are just hard..

The thoughts keep coming back and everytime it’s much scarier but I also comfort myself saying , you are strong enough to handle it. You have people to rely on and you will survive it

Just like you my friend , who is reading this

I hope you don’t go through what I went through , but I also know if you did you are strong and I am here for you….

So, here’s something I wrote during that time,

“You are like an albatross soaring the high into
Spreading happiness and wittiness spotlessly with,
The dreams of an untainted, yet childlike innocent kid at heart
The paper heart filled with art,
Full of colours , empathy and thought
A canvas to paint with so many feelings to express,
Yet when i look at you everything else seem so bland
Your light and smile hits people so hard
That you want to reciprocate
When the snowy numbness crawls on us
You are the ray of light that i turn to,
White salty tears make it’s final fall
You become my tumbler
You are the piece of my life that conceals the lifeless life ,
You are more of an anchor than a friend
To forever and always till the end “

So stay strong and lots of love,

See you in the next bloggg;!!!!

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Poems

Hate comments

30 Comments


Growing up, I have always been in the spotlight, with competitions and my writing. Envy felt like a part of my life, and I got used to it. Nothing could break me. Perks of growing up in an Indian household with aunties and relatives being on your back the whole time!
But yesterday and today, I received tons of messages as comments, and trust me when I say this: hate isn’t the word I would use for that. I held onto it with a grain of salt and ignored it, more so because in the social media era, it’s common, but there was a feeling inside me that I couldn’t pinpoint, a feeling that it was someone I knew.
That would be devastating even for me.
I went into “gossip girl” mode with my friends, and they kept telling me I was overthinking as usual. Then another series of comments followed, calling me a slut, and a whore, and using all the slurs in the English dictionary, to bringing up my descendants, my parents, and even comments on my dating life, which is non-existent by the way!
Every time I put those comments in spam, I was this close to losing my mind. I wanted to reach out to that person to ask if he or she was okay. Creating a fake email with my username and then commenting on my posts felt more like personal vengeance to me, or he is utterly jobless.
But I didn’t reply or respond because I felt like it wasn’t worth it.
Yes , I know I have another set of amazing readers and friends whose empathetic voices I can hear inside my head screaming at me to ignore that person.
But I can’t, because it does affect you. I am not a brick, I have feelings too; I feel a lot, and this made me question a lot of things: should I have started this blog; was my poetry better hidden from the world; did I hurt someone so much that he was ready to go to this extent?
Am I a good person, or is my poetry sheer luck, as he calls it?
This feels like chaos, but all those thoughts came rushing into my mind when I read that.
Now, I know what most of you guys are thinking: she has unresolved insecurities. I don’t, because I am in a very good space.
But when I read a series of 15–20 essay comments by one person, all those insecurities that I had dealt with and had locked inside some deep chamber of my brain came back.
Am I ranting? Did it affect me? yes
Short and simple.
Because it straight up felt like bullying and pushing me into a corner, knowing exactly what buttons to push to trigger me.
and that makes me wonder. it’s a person who knows me or a sadist internet troll.
maybe that part hurt more, if it was a nameless troll hiding behind a computer screen saying my poetry sucks, I wouldn’t be so affected.

How did he know which buttons to push? So, I was adamant it was someone I knew.
So here I was going through my friends list to figure out who the person was. I went through all the scenarios, and I couldn’t find that person.
Would I like to know who it is? no,
because no matter who the person is—even if it’s a troll—he got me engagement and views.
for that, I am grateful.
and after a lot of unpaid therapy sessions with my friends, I figured it wasn’t someone I know.
because no one I know would go to this extent.

A troll who went through all my poems and writings, seeking inspiration from his life and wrote long paras for me , its romantic !!!

I am intrigued!!! Honestly in some fucked up universe, I would have even admired that person…Just kidding!!
and I had to remind myself that I am worth a lot of things and that my poetry is an expression of my imagination. maybe it’s sheer luck, but I am glad I have that luck and some amazing people who made me the person that I am today.
Why am I ranting like this? because it made me feel a lot of things, anxiety and dread are two of them.
Why am I posting it?
I don’t know, honestly; I can give the textbook answer that I want people to be sympathetic and have better things to do.
and I am sorry that you decided to vent all your anger on my page with some very , brutal wild and vulgar messages.
but thank you for the engagement.
you are my well-wisher!

This topic ends here , because I am not letting a nameless Internet troll who is probably drunk , keeps thinking about me to live in my head rent-free !!! I knew I had to write it out to let it all out !!;

I also found some very important learnings from this encounter , you need good people around you or its very easy to go down the spiral of insecurities and self hate .

And things affect people more in ways that people can’t imagine.It’s important to have criticism, but there’s a very big difference between criticism and hatred.
(yes, please shower me with healthy criticism; I need it.)
and no, I am not playing the self-pity card on getting hate. I knew long ago that on social media I would get hate, and I’m not going to take it personally, but this time it got to me. Next time, I will try to be better.

And I am going to take this opportunity to grow, because I have a lot to unlearn and learn.
So, I am going to focus on the good things, my beloved readers, and my good friends, and I am going to empathize with my haters.
and my “well-wisher” who spammed my comment section thank you for the content and a topic to write a blog on!
Please keep inspiring me to write because I am planning to stick around for a long while …

Lots of love…..

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Blogs

Why did I stop writing?

19 Comments

This week was ideally one of my good weeks. This blog of mine took off really well, and I have you guys to thank for that!
I had started blogging years ago and earned decent money from it too,gained a massive following but then I decided to delete it one fine morning.Yes I was dumb .But something in me broke that day.I hated that piece of me , I just wanted it to be erased and just like that my blog disappeared from the face of the internet and my life.

Everything triggered it, and I couldn’t handle it. People saw me broken and had so many assumptions. Some friends of mine even called me “dark and twisted” because my poetry genre was that. One day, it was just the tip of the iceberg when a friend of mine told me that I have two completely different personalities when it comes to the friend they know and the blog they read. I was so scared of people around me having opinions that I stopped blogging . Initially , i thought I would take a week off and get back to it .But whenever I sat down to write , i could see weird gazes and interpretations of me running in their head , some even vocalising it clouding the words and my emotions and I couldn’t put anything on the paper .I was scared , scared to be not accepted . And that made me claustrophobic, my own poetry made me claustrophobic.And I decided to stop blogging.

Now that I think about it, I knew it was immature of me to do that, but that 19 year-old didn’t know any better! Even people’s compliments felt fake and a conversation starter. They assumed I was too smart, but I wasn’t. I just had some teeny tiny creative juices flowing in my overthinking brain. Sometimes, I hate myself for that because I really want to shut my brain down and give myself a break too.

But now I have regrets. I have regrets about killing my baby when it was at its highest point. Regrets of disappointing lakhs of people , regrets that maybe my old blog would have reached at a height that I could never fathom.But looking back, would I do it again? Yes . A complicated answer for a very simple question .This “yes” has so many layers attached to it. The insecurities in me wasn’t happy with the immense response that it got. Even with this blog, the views, likes, and comments all seem so surreal as I have just started. The fear of being inside that glassbox someday is something that I am constantly working on, trying to not let it tackle me down again this time.I know all this sounds like I m selfish and all I care for is numbers . Honestly, no.I’m not a number person, but I do like to be appreciated and being acknowledged for what I write. Because growing up, I wasnt. Trauma does have a boomerang effect.I guess so !! The warmth of you guys relating to it keeps my juices flowing , sparks my creative wires, keeps me going.

Why am I writing this? Because today I felt the same thing—the fear of being judged for what I write? Would I be considered “dark and twisted” or am I mature enough? The overthinking went on overdrive till I started scribbling in my diary, and I honestly realized I couldn’t change the way people look at me. Some may consider me annoying, others too intellectual, and some crazy, but the real ones know me for me. Like me for who I am—and poetry is a part of me—this chaotic mess of words ,wittiness and emotions.
And I missed blogging. Seriously, I missed writing poetry and putting it out there, and I guess it’s okay. Because this is how I am true to myself, by being the real me. It was so hard to stay away from all this for the past two years, and I also know for a fact my writing isn’t at its peak, but it’s okay because I write for myself;i m happy , in a safe space of my own as the perfect poetry for me is my own.
Why did I crib so much today? Because today I had a conversation with my friend about how he missed my poetry and our open mics. He told me he missed my writing, and that’s when I opened up to him about my fears and the cycle of thoughts that led me to that standstill. He said I was an idiot, which I agree with, but moreso, I was too scared of being overwhelmed by people’s opinions and these rationalizations of the type of person that I was just because of my poetry, as I was used to being on the sidelines. It took me a lot of time to accept the broken, unbroken me, but I’m happy. happy to be back .

It’s so easy to fall into prejudices, and I just want to tell you it’s okay. But what’s more important is to pick yourself up and surround yourself with the louder voices of empathetic people who can shut the voices in your head. Because sometimes we do make dumb decisions, but what matters is how we deal with them afterwards and the choices we make to counter them.

Is it a philosophical class ? No , but I wanted to put it out there , I am not a perfect writer , nobody is . I have made dumb decisions and it’s okay .Just write for yourself , do what makes you happy . People can create illusions but what matters is how you paint them in your head .It took me a long time to figure this out . Letting go of all this wasn’t easy but i am glad I am painting my castle on my own .I am glad to have your back because I promise to be better.
 
 
 P.s . Yes , this isn’t a typical blog format with a proper structure but Im happy with it nevertheless , the chaos in me is what comes on my blogs and thats what makes it real and me. I promise I wouldn’t leave you guys stranded this time.

Thanku for staying till the end!!!