Of Life, of Love-

Of Life, of Love-


You do not wait for opportunities,
you create them-
in the moments,
the first string of light,
and when darkness-
envelopes the sky.

You do not wait for friendship,
To arrive,
At its time and pace,
And kick loneliness
To the curb,
With a sidekick.
You search it-
At the park,
The cafe,
Grandma’s birthday.

You do not wait for success,
To come knocking,
Down your door
Saying, I’m here now.
You hunt it down,
Axe and sword.
Heat and sweat.
Find it and claim-
It was always yours to Have.

But love… do you wait for love
To arrive, open arms,
Do you not?
Heck… what do I know about love.

T- To the one who curses time

T- To the one who curses time


Take heed my friend,
And curse time not;
The hands of the clock,
Move the same for all.

It ticks and it tocks,
With each passing dawn,
Allotting 24 hours
Regardless, to all.

The time I waste,
The time you make,
The best of use-
Is all the same.

Take heed my friend,
and curse time not,
For time is faultless,
We humans are not.




He told you, that verses were old school,
All the modern poets dwelt in lines;
So you bundled up all of your pages,
Dumping them in the dark of your house;
Only one- two lines just, he requested,
No one’s got time to go through a page,
And the heart that you poured into writing,
Crashed to nothing, within a sec.

You tried, didn’t you, to conform,
But the words wouldn’t make sense in two;
After efforts and hours and struggling,
You decided it wasn’t for you;
So you bundled up, all that you’d written,
Modern poetry was not worth the pain;
With his words echoing in the background,
You set fire and watched through the flames.

Who’s to say that you can’t be a poet,
Just because you refuse to conform,
To a particular style of writing,
While beauty resides in every form.
Seasons fade from autumn to winter,
But the truth of the fact still remains,
Some would prefer the winter in autumn,
Some would choose the other way;
Write two lines if you wish or long pages,
Write because- you have something to say.

Writer’s Quote: Mother to son

Writer’s Quote: Mother to son


It’s Wednesday, which means, it’s time for writers quote Wednesday again. Today, I picked the quote above that speaks about “giving up”, which is a topic I believe is timely and cannot be said enough. The poem I chose to go with the quote is one by one  of my favourite poets, Langston Hughes. 

The poem is about a conversation between a mother and her son; it’s actually a one sided conversation, with the mother doing all the talking and the son, I envision, is taking it all in, in silence. A scene I am all  too familiar with, but I digress. Below is the poem, 

Mother To Son by Langston Hughes

Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—

But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.

So, boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps.
‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now—
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

Don’t feel shy to share your thoughts on the poem and let me know if you are already familiar with the Poem. 

What Not to say to someone going through weight change

What Not to say to someone going through weight change


I know I speak without filter sometimes, a perk of mine, and as I presume, many others as well. Needless to say, somethings shouldn’t require filter to not be said, common sense should suffice.

If you’ve ever gone through a weight change, either weight loss or weight gain, for whatever reason, then you’ve probably also been a victim of what I’m about to say.

It is so NOT COOL to greet anyone with the statement- you have lost/ gained weight. That is not a greeting; whatever happened to good morning, hi, or even hello. And when you do say it unintentionally (I’m giving the benefit of doubt here), please don’t utter those words as if you’re saying snort or something disgusting.

That being said, now to the main reason I am writing this post. To anyone who knows anyone who is going through a weight change, please (talking from experience here), one of the worst things you can say to them is- “you looked more beautiful before you lost/gained weight“. Because firstly, it is none of your business and secondly, it is none of your business.

You do not get to decide when a person does or does not look beautiful. You have no idea the reason behind the weight change or the effort put towards it. And also because by saying that, you’re endorsing the “ridiculousness” that beauty is measured in scales which is absurd in itself. 

I hope this doesn’t sound as one of those angst rant but rather something tangible. What are some of the worst things you’ve been told or heard, with regards to weight change? 

The above image is courtesy of Cranky fat feminist.

Writer’s Quote: Charles Lamb

Writer’s Quote: Charles Lamb


The above quote is part of a poem I came across recently, thoughtless cruelty by Charles Lamb. The poem talks about a man who queries a boy called Robert, for killing a fly which had in no way harmed him. The man goes on to explain to Robert that a fly already has a short life, which is made even shorter by nature’s forces like wind and birds; and there goes Robert, further shortening it.

He explains that though a fly may be small in size, it doesn’t in anyway belittle it’s pain. The nerves are still there, the fibres are still there although the we can’t see them.

Below, is the full poem which I got from Poetry Foundation. I hope you enjoy it as much I do.

There, Robert, you have kill’d that fly,
And should you thousand ages try
The life you’ve taken to supply,
You could not do it.

You surely must have been devoid
Of thought and sense, to have destroy’d
A thing which no way you annoy’d —
You’ll one day rue it.

Twas but a fly perhaps you’ll say,
That’s born in April, dies in May;
That does but just learn to display
His wings one minute,

And in the next is vanish’d quite.
A bird devours it in his flight —
Or come a cold blast in the night,
There’s no breath in it.

The bird but seeks his proper food —
And Providence, whose power endu’d
That fly with life, when it thinks good,
May justly take it.

But you have no excuses for’t —
A life by Nature made so short,
Less reason is that you for sport
Should shorter make it.

A fly a little thing you rate —
But, Robert do not estimate
A creature’s pain by small or great;
The greatest being

Can have but fibres, nerves, and flesh,
And these the smallest ones possess,
Although their frame and structure less
Escape our seeing.

This post is in response to The Writer’s Quote Wednesday Challenge hosted by Jacqueline and Bernadette 

Day 16: Confidence

Day 16: Confidence


Buy that dress,
They said,
You’d look more confident.

With a 5 inch heels,
To go with,
For, height boosts confidence.

What about a touch,
Of red lipstick?
Ooh, that looks confident.

And ditch that scarf,
Over your hair,
There- you look confident.

If you’ve got friends,
With these ideals,
Depicting confidence.

You’ll need new ones,
To teach you what,
Real confidence means.

It begins with self-
To walk in a room,
and not need validation

Being comfortable,
in the skin that you wear ,
Now that is confidence.

day 16: confidence, day 17: A friend. This poem is in response to December Poetry Challenge, 31 poems in 31 days.

the above image is courtesy of Healthy place.com

Day 8: Choices

Day 8: Choices


If anything,
I want you to remember this-
Life is filled with
so many;
Left and right,
Coloured or dull,
Yes or no.
We have the options,
To make a choice-
In our decisions.

But just as the sun,
has little to say,
In the matter of rainfall.
And the moon,
regardless of it’s stance,
Night will fade to day,
There is little you can do,
when another chooses-
A different pathway.

And we can get swallowed,
In the never ending scenarios,
Of what could I have done;
Or we can rise,
With the knowledge-
Everyone makes their decision,
Good or bad…
And most times,
No matter what we do,
Say or preach-
They’d still make the same choices,

Prompt: Life. This poem is response to December Poetry challenge, 31 poems in 31 days (and yes I am two days behind 🙈).

The above picture is Courtesy of Whisper.com

Chasing Love…

Chasing Love…


I think, the more you chase love, the more it gains energy and eludes you. The more you want it, the more it runs off. Love becomes this person who seems to enjoy the thrill of the chase more so than being caught; its mastered the art of evasion and just when you think, maybe, this is it- love has a way of getting one over you, it does so skillfully, taking with it pieces of you and leaving several irregular gaping holes.

And despite, despite the tumultuous ride and the many bumps on the road, we still chase love. We still get on the ride, despite knowing we may be left with even less pieces of ourselves than when we started. What does that say about love? What does that say about us? That we need it, maybe not as much as the oxygen we breathe, but still, as a necessity if we want to “live” not simply “exist”. And sometimes, this love that we’re chasing, isn’t hiding out with someone else; sometimes, this love is within ourselves and we’re simply driving through the wrong paths. I mean, how else can we fill the hole in someone else’s heart when ours is half filled yearning for us to fill it. And maybe, these are the lessons that love teaches us through its eventful journey.

The above image is courtesy of OrdinaryGirl

Flash Fiction: Best Advice

Flash Fiction: Best Advice


The sight of the solitary red bench evoked a misty sensation in her right eye which Mindy couldn’t attribute to the particles of the wind. She remembered the old man who inhabited that bench everyday when the shadows reflected twice our sizes, he gave her the best advice she’d ever received.

Their first encounter was when the old man came to his spot and found Mindy weeping in her school uniform. Upon questioning, she told him of the bullying she encountered daily at school for being fat. He threw his head back, laughed and said “oh Honey, next time, you tell them fat is something one can lose or better yet, sit on people with. Being judgmental and stupid is an ugly curse for life.” He added that she strides away, before the bullies can make a comeback.

Mindy looked to the heavens and said, “Rest in Peace old man” letting the mist descend down her cheeks.

Word count: 159. This story is in response to Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers Photo prompt challenge hosted by Priceless Joy. Thank you Ady for this week’s picture. This is an event where we are given a picture each week and required to write a 75-175 word  story.