We work so hard
Day and night,
Mixing the right colors,
Putting the right words,
Hoping to produce a MASTERPIECE.
Underestimate our finest pieces.
Placing the value of our Art,
On the approval of those,
Who do not understand
What Art is.
The walls that held our lives in photographs,
Now hold someone else’s.
‘Stop’, Some Say.
‘Not today’, I reply.
With a lump in my throat,
A pounding heart,
And trembling hands,
I begin to speak.
Unraveling all the knots
I never dared to touch.
Lifting up the veil,
From the remains of that day.
On my arms and my legs,
On my face and my brain,
I leave nothing behind.
Opening the doors of flashbacks and memories,
The painful and horrifying ones,
I let my tongue go on.
The pain grows,
As if never left.
I bid farewell to the nightmares,
As I fade away from the stand
To the day it all began.
To the day I lost, Everything.
For one last time,
I open the chapter that was forbidden to be touched.
I free the truth,
Expose the scars,
Endure the pain all over again,
And let the tears flow down my cheeks.
For one last time,
I don’t hold back.
Closing this chapter, forever
With the note that,
I am not a victim.
I am a survivor.
I don’t know how to write poetry, but I try. And this is my support to Udaari, the one drama that has a purpose and a cause. The one breaking stereotypes. I hope that this drama fulfills its purpose and revives the traditions of silencing the victims of violence.
There are so many words that go unspoken, so many messages left unsent, so many poems left unwritten; just because I fear to be judged. Yes, that’s pretty much the truth. I fear to be judged for the things I feel, fear to be judged for the things I think, for the things I believe in. And because of this fear, I hold, I hold all the feelings inside, all the thoughts in the box of my mind struggling to go free but I hold. The feelings bottle up in time, the words mix up in my mind and then comes a time when I don’t know how to let them out.
” I won’t hear the ‘not today’ anymore”, I say to myself.
Today, I choose to stand up with my fears staring right in my eyes and I say, ” Today, I choose otherwise. Today, I choose to defeat you. Today, I choose to express myself”
An everyday struggle of all the writers. Everything we post online or get published, it takes an enormous amount of courage but it is in facing our fears that we truly, really LIVE!
Rushing towards me, She crashed onto my shoulder.
My shirt wet,
Her eyes red.
My heart stabbed, a pain in my chest.
Her heartbreak was now mine.
I climbed out of the bed to make some breakfast, to stop my stomach from growling. I let him sleep in a bit longer, so that he wakes up fresh for a busy Monday and also because he looked so calm even with the sun light on his face that I didn’t want to disturb him, not just yet.
I made omlettes for two with toasted bread and tea, I wanted to do something special for breakfast but I was new to cooking, so it would take some time to get there. I put the tray on my side of the bed worrying that the sheets might get stained; they were my favorite white one’s that my sister had gifted. I shut the curtains wide open, expecting him to wake with the sound, no movement. He seemed to have been in a dream, far away from the world I was waiting for him to wake up in.
He seemed so still and peaceful, I wondered if waking him up would be fair or not, but there seemed to be no choice as there lay numerous meetings ahead to be attended by him. I ran my fingers through his hair to wake him up. As my hand touched his face, he was as cold as ice. My heart skipped a beat, I checked his pulse instantly and there was no pulse. I turned him over to his back only to find out, he wasn’t breathing.
Hi guys, so here is a story or an excerpt from a bigger thing that I might write. I didn’t think it through, just put a piece of my mind out there. I need an honest feedback on this, to evaluate myself. Please, give me a piece of your mind and let me know what you think ? Thank you 🙂
May be I am just an ordinary.
May be my dreams are too unreal.
May be I live in fantasy too much then need be.
May be it was never destined to be.
Why don’t they accept it then.
Neither my mind, nor my heart.
And every time you’ll look at the stars,
She will cross your mind.
Perhaps, like a shooting star,
But she will.
And you’ll know that,
She was nothing less than a star.
New years don’t change us, new cities do.