C- Children (Acrostic)

Care is all he yearns for,
Hope indeed he seeks;
Illness may befall him,
Love shall give him will;
Darkness comes asunder,
Rock him till he sleeps;
Every child deserves this,
Not abuse- I plead.

My Kinda Warrior

 

I love reading about warriors.
Not the ones with armors,
Knives as shields;
But those whose wrists
Demand a shield;
Their hands with knives
Dig through the skin;
With blood the consequence
Of it.

These warriors battle
with what’s within-
That ‘essence’ which neither
of us Can see;
A voice that’s strong and
fierce And grim;
An enemy no one but
the warriors Can feel.

Just one more time,
The voices scream;
You know you want to,
It’s your relief;
Oh how the voices
confuse and twist;
And lie their way into,
Making us bleed.

With time this voice can be
Diminished by will;
And the warriors they hide and-
bind their wrists
Drop the knives, shield the skin;
And they might bleed-
Tomorrow
But today, they choose to live.

Are you a Writer???

Are you a writer or an artist?
I’m just a girl living her dreams
I am a smile waiting to be deciphered,
I am a heart yearning to be fixed;
I am a voice screaming to be heard just once,
I am a soul withering within;
I am a daughter living for her mother,
I am a pen overflowing with ink;
I am a servant, praying to The Lord, my God
I am a puzzle piece incomplete;
I am a woman demanding my security,
I am a citizen urging for peace;
I am all of these and a lot more, but mostly-
I’m just a random, finding her feet.

image credit

And Nobody knew…

This is a story
I have never told;
There was a little girl,
She was eight years old;
Alone in the backyard,
Acting a play or so;
Unaware of the stalker,
Hiding in plain clothes.

And he came;
And she smiled;
And he asked-
“Can I help you find?”
Innocent,
And naive-
She replied,
“I need broken shards”

And the next,
Thing she knew-
He had forced her
To the grove;
And his tongue
Down her throat,
The little girl helpless
On her own.

But her Lord-
Oh, he never fails;
Sent her sister
to her aid;
Sister came-
Stalker was gone;
Sister never knew-
What happened along.

Little girl,
felt relieved;
Didn’t understand
What stalker did.
But the lady,
Little girl grew into-
Distraught by memories of,
The boy in the grove.

A letter to ‘the voice inside my head’

Dear Mind,
I tried shutting you off for a long time, it worked but then, you kept coming back. Finally, I have given into your demands. You want me to finish what I started, fine! I’ll prove you wrong. And No, this time it’s going to be different. Not like the last three times I started writing a book and didn’t go through with it. This time, I’m going to finish what I started.

And you know what, it’s not about writing a perfect book, it’s more about practice. The art of writing every single day (okay, every week), pushing myself to post a new story no matter how bad you make me think it is. Experimenting with new techniques, description, narration, letter writing, dialogues and just to keep getting better.

By the way, I did finish the Writing 101 course. Now that I think about it, that was what motivated me to complete the story I started. And although you didn’t mince your words in reminding me time and time again how bad the storyline of ‘a Glimpse of Summer’ is- and even though I was temped to give up, I didn’t. Because dear mind, even you do not know the extent of my writing.

And so, I’m going to keep on writing badly till I get good at it. You may mock me, you may increase the volume of your screams but it won’t stop me, not anymore. There’s not a bone of doubt in me that my love for writing screams louder than any of your disbeliefs in me. Listening to that passion within me has been the greatest gift.

This is it; The end of a long tumultuous relationship with you dear mind. Unless the mumble that comes out of you screams confidence, I’m afraid we’ll have to part ways. Goodbye for now… It’s time to give in to my passion.

In Response to the Writing hub Challenge: Write a letter to yourself reflecting on who you are as a writer.

The Cruelties Of Man

It kills me, a little bit at a time-
The cruelties of this world;
The cruelties of man;
The harshness we ooze forth.

We judge a man by his color-
His tribe, where he’s from;
He’s wealth and all his worth;
The Lord he worships at dawn.

And the heart beneath his hide of skin-
Isn’t enough to save him from
the wrath employed by man;
such is the injustice of this world.
And it kills me… A little bit at a time.

Day 17: Worries of a Single Lady

My third year being single. Slowly, it’s beginning to hit me. I thought I had found the one when I met him, I was wrong- again! And now, I honestly don’t think the one exists for me. It’s not that I have been heart broken too many a times- trust me I’ve been too careful for that. But maybe that’s the problem, I was too careful. Anyway, I haven’t even remotely met anyone close to that. And I want to be happy, feel happy when I see people in love. Even if they are wrong for each other or what they are doing is wrong. But it’s getting hard, because it reminds me yet again that I’m alone.

But, well… How does it happen? How do you meet the one? This is something I ponder about. Really, how does it happen? I try to not think about it, but the thought keeps coming at me. And also,

I used to think I was just perfect. And then I thought maybe a few kilos lost wouldn’t hurt. And then it became more than a few kilos. And now, I’m wondering, maybe a few kilos gained back wouldn’t hurt. Life is complicated and the sorry and sad part is, we make it the way it is. Life’s what you make it- and if it’s complicated, I take full responsibility. It is my job to make life work. To make it work for me. To twist and turn things around until I am happy. To push forth, to stand strong, to make sure I leave no stone unturned and this heart of mine is happy. It is my job to make me happy. A job I believe I am failing to do.

Maybe it’s about time, heck, it is about time! I owe it to myself to choose to be happy. And, right now, this moment, I choose. I choose to be happy. It’s my choice to make and I have made it. Nobody said it would be easy anyway, I just have to make it work for me. And well, with happiness everything comes easy.

I choose to get off this tab In a few minutes, soak in the sweet after smell of rain that is blowing through this car window. Relax and absorb the atmosphere for a little while. Go home, pray and be happy. Yeah, I choose to be happy! I’ve made my choice and I will stand by it and see it through.