On being dark-

On being dark-

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She was told as a kid,
To be fair is beautiful,
So she looked down her skin,
When she sighted a mirror,
And they pointed at others,
Saying- that girl is pretty.
And she withered inside for,
She didn’t look like those “pretties”.

8 year old and she’s taught,
To be dark is a sin,
For no man would approach,
A pigmented melanin,
And she’ll grow old and wilt,
In her lone parents home,
Well except, well except,
She did something about it.

And she did, yes she did,
More than something about it,
Now her skin is much lighter,
But she didn’t stop at her skin,
And her nose is a bit Pointer,
And her lips are much fuller,
And they point- see this fake thing,
Forgetting that they made her,
By the words they had implanted,
As a kid of eight years old.

The best things-

The best things-


They say good things don’t last forever,
But I believe the best things do,

Like the rising of the sun each day,
Reflecting it’s golden beams.

The moon each night unfailingly,
Illuminating night’s darkness.

The rise and fall of ocean waves,
Which never cease to occur.

This planet, 3 hundred and 65 days
Revolving around the sun,

Sending love through Rays and sunbeams,
Each day from dawn till dusk.

The stars in all of their beauty,
Shining gallantly in the sky,

Piercing through the darkened layers,
To comfort the moon at night;

They say good things don’t last forever,
They- who can’t comprehend our love,

If breathing is a necessity for life,
Then you- my dear, are my lungs.

C- Colour me earth

C- Colour me earth

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You-
With the red hair and
Pale skin,
Eyes reflecting the cerulean
Sea;
You-
With the brown hue,
And hornets of untangleable
Four C,
Eyes- the colour of the bees’
Produce.

Yes, you-
With darkest of skin,
And you-
With the lightest of hair,
Do not,
let the world convince you,

That you’re-
less genetically blessed.

For blue- is the earth,
And green is the earth,
And black and brown,
Are from the earth;
And all of it-
We know is blessed.
By the one, in whose hands
My soul lies.

Today’s poem Is inspired by a Post I read by Nayana Nair. This is a scheduled post, I’m sorry I won’t be able to reply your comments, I’m currently on a travel. Take care, and happy reading. 

What Not to say to someone going through weight change

What Not to say to someone going through weight change

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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.

DAY 30: Overwhelmed

DAY 30: Overwhelmed

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This universe,
With everything in it-
The gallant stars, the milky way,
Earth and it’s seven revolving sister planets,
The mountains- standing firm and strong,
The dancing waves of the deep blue oceans,
All of it, magnificent creations.

And there- she is,
A bare creation of 5″6,
Wondering where she fits amidst,
Overwhelming beauty,
Overwhelming presence,
Overwhelming people at every single corner.
And she thinks, maybe
It isn’t for me-
I could leave,
and no one would notice i’m gone.

But girl…
This earth was made for you,
To wonder and ponder and dwell In it,
To climb up those mountains,
Feel the air upon your skin,
Watch the stars light up darkness
Swim amongst the sea entities;
If you find this world overwhelming,
It may be thinking the same of you,
Don’t get stuck on what is theirs,
While your beauty eludes your view.


Day 30: Stars. In response to December Poetry Challenge (31 poems in 31 days). The beautiful picture above is courtesy of Canon WR.

The Girl on The Street

The Girl on The Street

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It came as a curveball,
The news that they met;
A girl on their street,
Had succumbed to death;
But I thought she was happy,
They chorused all day;
And saw flashbacks of her,
With burgers and a grin;
But the truth of the darkness,
Which hovered her being,
Was placed on the status,
Of her various dps;
It was written in the poems,
Which she shared with her friends,
Who described it, “beautiful”,
And ignored its depth;
It was displayed in the redness
Of her eyes after meals,
When she came out of restrooms,
Appearing fatigued.
It was drawn on collarbones,
Poking through her skin,
And the clothes she resized,
For the waists were too big.

It came as a curveball-
News, The illness took her;
Her weight was too downscale,
She couldn’t survive;
But I thought she was happy
Was all they could say,
But for the girl on the street,
It was too late.

A- Absolute day

A- Absolute day

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The darkness, which had enveloped the sky gradually dissipated. She gazed as a distinct violet hue of varying intensity made an appearance. It’s lightest shade, meshing with the sky’s cerulean blue, producing together a color calming to view.

She watched entranced, as the tall mahogany tree leaves shuddered to the Northeastern winds and just as if they realized her gaze upon them, turned still except for the occasional sidewards swaying.
The chirping birds filled the atmosphere with their melody, giving the picture perfect scene a bit of background music.

And in that moment, it didn’t matter if the skies would clear and turn a scorching 115 degrees in a few hours; it didn’t matter that the North-Eastern winds would pick up, forming turbulent sand storms; it didn’t matter that the birds chirping would eventually overstay their welcome and get on her nerves. There and then, the day seemed Absolute… Complete… Perfect… Free from imperfections. The odds that it would turn out so were a billion to one. But all that mattered was, in that moment, she believed in it’s absoluteness.


1 down, 25 more letters to go. Thank you @Life home and away for suggesting the word “Absolute”. I promise I am not ignoring your posts, comments and follows on purpose. My phone’s screen got cracked and it’s at the repair shop, hoping to get it back by tomorrow. Currently using my sister’s not-so-good hotspot which I totally appreciate 😁. My apologies.

She was beauty-

She was beauty-

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She tried to find the beauty,
People claim, in her they see;
That light which brightens hearts,
And set some souls ablaze;
She stared at her reflection,
With every waking dawn;
And spent the day dejected,
Cause the light, she never saw;
But the beauty was embedded,
In the window of her teeth;
In the way high voice rose high,
When she fluttered at her speech;
In the tightening of her lips,
When she hears of injustice;
In the widening of her eyes,
At the sound of Poetry;
She tried to find the beauty,
People claim in her they see-
In her soul, it was embedded
In every cell of her being.

The above image is courtesy of Breaking the silence

Pretty-

Pretty-

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All that you are,
Isn’t reflected in the mirror;
And the face looking back,
Is but a twinkle of a star;
The scales that you mount,
They measure lipos and calories;
But the worth of your heart,
Can’t be measured and priced.

When your clavicle pokes up,
Passers-by call you pretty;
So you run extra kilometers,
Spending hours in the gymnasium;
You eat at the brink of starvation,
Feeling dizzy and lightheaded;
But my God, you think it is worth it
Passers-by would call you pretty.

All that you are girl,
Can’t be reflected in the mirror;
It shows you face worth,
Not the reality your soul captures;
And the words passersby throw,
Is but a drop in the ocean;
So you say it ain’t so,
I’m always pretty regardless

The above image is courtesy of Visualize.com

Of her mind-

Of her mind-

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She had the most beautiful mind,
A galaxy of infinite stars
In the form of thoughts-
Swirling around,
In her brain’s sulci and gyri-
I wonder,
I just wonder
How one creation could hold
So much genuine-
Creativity
Passion
Intensity
With profound humility.

And she’d smile, bashful
Waving off compliment;
Lower her gaze hiding,
Those caramel eyes- behind
geeky glasses.
And I wish,
Oh I wish,
She could see the view
From where I stand.
She watches the universe
Admiring it’s beauty-
Fade to black
Grow into light
Day and night;
But she,
She holds the most beautiful
Universe-
In that mind of hers.

image credit: the HealthyPlace