Silhouettes

Under the glimmering night sky
a soft white curtain
stood unnoticed at the edge of a street,
fluttering as if lulled by the serene wind.
And it tells a forbidden tale,
of two silhouettes in love.

Two tentative heads peek at its edge ,
bent towards each other in careful speculation.
Emerge out of shadows the two figures,
behind the curtain standing at polar ends.

A song begins thrumming through their veins
electric energy buzzing through the air
and an amorous duet commences.
Two steps forward, a step to the side,
distance closing in with passionate strides
Arm’s length away, a halt.
Bodies shift in a coy fashion,
dancing along the rhythmic beats of their hearts,
It’s a melodic display of infatuation.

A twist and a twirl
they slink closer and closer
A hairs breath away, hands clasped back in self restraint
Chests heaving in laboured breath
movements charming each other in a flirtatious display.

The end of a verse
hands freeing from their back
two silhouettes collide like stars in space,
creating a universe for themselves
away from this prejudiced place.

On the shimmering curtain
they become smaller and smaller
walked away with
their fingers knitted together,
and heart strings strumming
in symphony

This lovely tale of two dancing silhouettes,
became a secret of the universe.
Away from the prying judgement of narrow eyes
of those who failed to understand love.

An epiphany

She, I think ​                                       A big nose, chubby cheeks,too small a mouth, pretty eyes.

She, I think
Constant tapping of the fingers, doodles here and there. Silence surrounds but the mind is too loud with pondering.

She, I think
Clumsy and awkward,
unapologetic and candid
Perhaps not always

She, I think
Bold in showering compliments
Bashful in being its reciever

She, I think
An anxious achiever armed with an average skill set

She, I think
Scared and Struggling to experiment

She, I think
Treads up a rocky terrain, hesitant to play in the rain

She, I think
Miles to travel to reach her full potential

She, I think
Needs to jump over those inhibitions,  quit being in vexation

She, I think
Once tasted the blithesome state of being  true to herself

She, I think
Needs to relocate the sparkle, needs to relocate herself

She, I think
Will grab the damn reins again and whisk away, for it’s been too long a tedious break

She, I think
Started this epiphany because of her friend

She, I think
As I think about myself.

More than just a trend..

​Stared at with predatory eyes
Made uncomfortable in public sights
Privacy invaded without any remorse
Themselves upon me those fiends force

A catcall, a crude remark
A brush of fingers none too accidental
Muffled screams of protest in the dark
That ever present shadow cannot  be co-incidental

Much more and much worse has been endured
In a constant fear many have lived
Stayed silent for they might have been censured
For victim blaming often left the sinner unscathed

This nightmare isn’t just yours or mine
Faced by thouands, a never ending line
#metoo isn’t just a trend
It’s a loud message that is long due unsent

‘Harrasment is an issue large than we think
Deserves an action of more than just a blink’

A cry for help

The days seemed to be passing away in an inexplicable haze. 

An incessant pounding in my head, as I try to navigate through this maze.

This ominous maze, filled with anxiety oozing out of long buried insecurities.

Why now, after all this time spent building myself so many  safe cities.

Cities of confidence, cities of happiness, cities of determination.

All damaged inside me, left behind this havoc-a broken nation.
My vision is blinded by my flaws

This hollow feeling holding onto me  with its claws.

Sunken eyes, frowning lips

A pallor resembling an eclipse.
What is going on ? 

This isn’t me

Lost and tired is all I feel

A cry for help it might be, 

When all a person wants is to drown in a sea.
All that’s needed is a friend who will hear,

And ease the process to mend one’s tear.

// The girl who loves to write, 

Seems to have lost her might.

All she seems to await is the night.

For the darkness  blends in with her pitiful sight. //

A Drop of Reminiscence

I can feel the warmth seeping into my fingers, clasped around a large mug of delicious hot cocoa. I can see the rain falling incessantly against my bedside window. The rhythmic splattering being the only audible sound, but unheard are the  voices inside my head by the walls of my room. The temperature is low enough for me to be huddled up in a soft blanket. My fingertips caressing the smooth material with unintentional strokes. 

And as the rain continues to fall heavily with occasional thundering, so do my thoughts. They fall upon me just like droplets of water and pool inside my mind, some deeper than the others. And I see my past reflected  – a little muddy, a little dull, I smile fondly at how far I have come.

Outside the pouring has subsided, leaving behind trails of water droplets on my window. My fingers trace a lone drop as it gently slithers down the glass surface. My lips taste the last of the cocoa and my thoughts? 

They culminate into a warm buzz under my skin- happy and content just like the rainbow left behind by the rain.

I lift myself out of the comfort of my blanket’s  cocoon, ready to conquer my present with the courage of my past.