A Figment Of Ur Imagination

As AbOvE,sO bElOw…As WiThIn,So WiThOuT…

Category: travel

A-Z

A, for the agendas you write on her skin

B, for the barbaric 

C, carcasses you want to make out of her

D, for her dwindling 

E, existence; she dreams of

F, freedom.

G, for the gates of her vagina that even the autocorrect refuses to mention

H, for the hell you’ve put her through and for the heaven she fights for 

I, for years of inequality that pinch on her thighs 

J, just below where your pleasure rests.

K, for the Kajal She

L, lures you in with so that you could 

M, murder her soul.

N, for the no that escapes her mouth

O, offering no respite to her.

P, for the places you felt her shivering under you

Q, for the queers that sing songs that sound like her death

R, for the reasons you should not have used her

S, soul and body alike.

T, to the hours she laboured to give you a child 

U, under the burden of her murder

V, for all the violence she was subjected to.

W, to the woman who produces men who slight her existence and reduce her identity to

XYZ

treat her like X,

Devour her soul like Y

And throw her away like Z.

.

|a big thank you to all those of you who attended the last slam poetry session!|

Polyglot’s Problems

Hindi runs in the veins of this लड़की

every द, ध, ढ, ढ़, ड़ slips off my tongue 

and I take great care to pronounce 

each right for it is indeed my mother’s

tongue and I wish to do justice to

her tireless pleads.

I speak English in phrases and metaphors,

a language in which I am soft spoken 

and delicate; where the crown of 

sophistication rests on my head, from

a बच्ची, I am a woman.

My toes wreathe in the sands of Punjabi,

a language that is happy and heartfelt,

but I’m also a कुड़ी, an object of male

attention, and gazes that constantly 

rest on my shoulders.

दीदी at home does not understand the three

other people that I can be so for her I am

a परोगी and in Marathi only I tell her that

मी तिची आभारी आहे.

I often read French aloud, a language où

je suis une femme of poise and sincerity,

where every word I speak with such

deliberation that you would not realise 

I am now five different people in one.

Now, no one dare say that I am difficult to

comprehend.

Messy

That’s the purity in messy people.

They touch you in places the world has left untouched.

They take your heart and senses on a road trip and hope to hell that you’re courageous  enough to never return back to normality.
After all, there’s no life in the mundane. 

Curiosity is 

that slutty cousin of  anxiety 

who fucks up everytime

for a handful of candies.

2a.m. 

You’re staying up until 2am for all the wrong reasons. Because you’re wasted. Because you’re  heartbroken. Because you’re bored and lonely and scrolling through social media until you’re forced to surrender to sleep. 

You shouldn’t be half covered with blanket with your head propped up on a pillow, daydreaming about how things used to be back when you were in a relationship. Or plugging your phone into the closest outlet, just in case that text you’ve been waiting for comes through. 

Find a better reason to stay up until 2am. Stay up because you had a great idea for a story or a song or a poem, and you don’t want the idea to slip away as you sleep. Stay up, because you’re on a creative streak and don’t want to ruin your flow. Stay up, because your passion burns brightest at night. 

And if your career isn’t the reason why you’re awake when the sun is resting, let love be the reason. 

Stay up- not because you’re in the middle of a brutal fight filled with ugly words. Not because you’re tossing and turning,  wishing that the argument never happened. Not because you’re crying your eyes out over the kinks in your perfect relationship. 

Stay up, because you have a million things to say without enough hours to say them. Stay up, because you want to set a new record for the amount of times you make love. Stay up, because you don’t want sleep to rob you of a second time with them. 

Stay up, because you found something that makes the yawns and baggy eyes feel worthwhile. Don’t choose existing over living. Don’t scroll through Twitter, then Facebook, then Tumblr, then back to Twitter again out of boredom. And don’t relive painful memories of your ex, because you have nothing else to think about when the silence envelops your bedroom. 

If you’re gonna stay awake until 2am,  find a good enough reason. Find your passion. 

Because, once you find something that’s actually worth staying up until 2am for,  you’ll find something worth living for. You’ll find your reason to be. 

Thunderstorms and Hurricanes 

We used our tongues 

like swords in a war.

Slicing through

the insecurities,

and exchanging 

breaths of revolutions.

We were hurricanes

curled up in a satin blanket.

We were the thunderstorms,

wrapped in mortal bodies.

_____________________

|excerpt from the poetry slam yesterday|

Playing The Lover’s Role

Those three little words I love you never meant much to me. I mean yeah of course in the beginning; how it feels so sweet to finally hear something you’ve yearned for is such a victory. But after a while, the thrill of hearing those words are an ending to a sorry conversation that lose its meaning .

It’s when I love you is said in such a tone as if forced. No one is asking you to love me darling. But if you’re going to play the lover’s role then make sure you’re saying those words to me on 2occasions:

  1. You’d rather claw your heart from your chest and feed it to the bears than to ever think about losing me.           (OR)
  2. I treat you as if you’re magic. I disappear into your body and dissolve myself into your veins making us one.

If it’s not intense, if it’s not skin ripping, soul bleeding, life shattering 
…then save that high infatuation you have masked as love. I want no parts in the mediocrity. 

Naked.

Come to me naked

or don’t come to me at all. 

Leave your misery on 

for me to take care of. 

Drop the masks

of bravery and apathy 

you cover your skin with, 

outside my door. 

Come with three glasses

for you and I, 

and we will drink the odds together. 

Come to me naked 

or don’t come at all. 

Ramblings of A Delirious Mind.

See. I’m weird, awkward and stupid.

I always have been.

I’m not your quintessential beauty, atleast the definition that the society has, anyway. I don’t have the most perfect of skin or the skinniest of legs. 

I prefer spending my time reading in a cafe than a pub.

The times I do hit the pub, I’m not there for the alcohol as much as I’m there for the dancing and the vibe. 

The best gifts you could possibly give me are chocolates and books. Or just a handwritten note.

I prefer writing over superficial talk and calling over texting.

I would rather walk than drive.

I prefer travelling without plans over a planned itinerary. Nothing beats impromptu trips.

I laugh loud, very loud. Unabashedly. with inappropriate noises which wouldn’t seem very decent to most.

I’m in love with forts, I like ruins more than I’d like being in beautiful places.

I’m raw and unruly. 

I’m not an open book. I open layer by layer, revealing my notes and anecdotes, my fears , my happiness with time, story by story. So if after the fist time we meet, you think you’ve me figured out. Let me make it clear for you, you don’t. 

I like sunny days and French windows.

I live for deep kisses, strange adventures,midnight swims and rambling conversations.

I prefer winter to summers and spring over anything . 

I’m an impulsive, reckless chick who takes risks at the cost of losing her comfort n well being.

I’ll take my time opening up to you. My initial one sentence replies will turn to a paragraph. Provided, you take the time to know me.

I’m not up for any kind of human interaction before I’ve had my customary mug of cold coffee in the morning. I’m inhuman without it.

I do not give up on people easily. I’ll do everything possible if I see a chance .So if I’m not making an effort any longer, ask yourself why.

I am not the girl who ll suck up to you, agree to every word that comes out of your mouth just so you stay. I’m not a people pleaser. I’m an opinionated person who loves healthy discussions.

My playlist is varied . Some of my music makes me want to cuddle for seven hours and some of my music makes me wish I did drugs in a motel room while wearing lingerie. 

I respect a man who is vocal. Tell me why you’re into me. Tell me why I pissed you off and how I can fix it. Tell me everything. Talk.

My idea of partying isn’t just limited to clubs and liquor. Partying for me can be binge watching and good food too! 

I can’t do small talk. It eats me up. You wanna talk, let’s really talk.

Call me at 3am and vent. I’ll listen.

I ll fall in love with your flaws. Not your perfection so show me the parts of you , you’re busy hiding.

I have never cared about the society. Or it’s innumerable rules.

I prefer baggy boyfriend tees to jeans and tight tops.

I don’t believe in “what if’s”. I will send that message . I will make that call. I will do that task instead of wondering about whether I should or shouldn’t. After all, what’s the worse than can happen? 

I prefer long conversations and long walks over one night stands.

And then once we’re past the initial few hours of being strangers, of half a day of awkwardness, the next half of the day, I would speak my heart to you, probably overwhelming the fuck out of you. 

I have a bad habit of saying exactly what I feel. 

I absolutely hate crowds.  for my own reasons. They scare me. It’s where my anxiety takes root from. 

I love how a person’s eyes just light up when they talk about something they’re so passionate about. Such energy. I hate how they apologise for it later. Like why? Go on, tell me more! What lights your fire?

I truly believe that house is anything with four walls. While, home is a person(s).

I’m carefree.  But also cutthroat. I do peaceful shit like meditate, but if necessary, I could absolutely regulate. 

I like honesty over a shared plate of spaghetti. 

I believe winters should arrive with someone who’d read a book to you as you prepare two cups of hot chocolate.

I have an entire collection of (never published, never will be published) things I’ve written about,  and some day,  I’m actually going to gift them to whoever  is silly enough to actually fall in love with me.

And if I ever find you reading my favourite book at a bookstore, I’ll end up paying for it anonymously. 

I seek freedom. Insurmountable freedom. 

I honestly don’t know, where to start,  or what to write, how to feel or to communicate with people these days.  Haven’t really replied to a single call or checked my inbox. 

It’s been a week since I actually sat down and tried to read or write something. It’s been about two weeks since I properly had a conversation with someone. I wake up tired everyday. I realized I lost openness. I lost it in the chaos,  disappointment and unrequited love. I lost openness in unwanted conversations, in too many expectations. 

I lost openness in sudden circumstances. And I lost openness because I let my thoughts overcome my heart. I felt defeated, of being heartbroken, of anguish. And I felt discouraged all these days. I searched for promises and comfort in others’ eyes.

So here I am, secretly having a glass of wine, with the vast ocean calling out to me,  comfortably listening to Led Zeppelin and swallowing my situation with ease. I realized it’s time to parent yourself. It’s time to know your mistakes and gather immense strength to change the current situation. I believe my soul is my home,  I’ve to keep it pure. I’ve to respect it,  and I’ve to expose it to good things. I have to respect the fucked up process of life and what it throws at me. 

Today I managed to get out of my comfort zone. Packed up my bag and left. I tried to discover new places, less as a tourist and more as a traveller. And I met some amazing people! I also realized  some people are not my people. I can never be like them  and that’s completely okay.  You can’t please people. I hate the “people-pleasing-act”. You can’t force yourself to open up and be chilled out.

What I’m grateful is, I have made peace with myself, and I’ve swallowed my temporary situation with pride. I’ve accepted that some days the sun is going to be blah. No blue skies to look upto and no good vibes to comfort. But you,  being yourself and waiting for the good days is what matters. You, trying to  change your current situation is what matters.  You are ready for change. 

Been a while, but life is good.