Nostalgia

For long I have sought solace in a shelter, That time and again changed its form.  Sometimes it was solitude,  Sometimes a storm.  Words mysteriously elude me now,  As I sit to pour my heart out to you. For my pen has known not a thing beyond dismay, And how miraculously you take that away!  It is strange how I do not want to scribble songs of heartbreak anymore,  And exploit my gloom like before.  For you have passed me the candle casting away the darkness I basked in,  And today I am willing to give up my melancholic pen with a grin.  It is beautiful how life leads me to roads I have imagined never. Despite this uncertainty all around,  You are the home I would love to come back to,  forever.  ----------------------------------- With the world wailing. And our future paling. And our mental health ailing. And our creativity failing. Sometimes it is a task to just  make it through the day. And I crib, I curse, I pray, I fuss my way.  And during those times a glimpse of your smile  reju

Today. Today I fought with my parents really hard. Today I screamed my lungs out playing the victim card. Until my throat ached. Grilling them down for their mistake. All because, All because they had messed up with my books on the wall rack. And misplaced my collection of bookmarks. Trivialities that I guarded like a treasure so long.  Obsessing over where each of my things belong. Just like how I used to as a little girl. And I let my demons unfurl. The only difference being that this time,  This time they didn't chide me with a frown. Or calm me down. As always. Instead. Instead for the first time I noticed them tremble within. For the first time they looked feeble and lean.  For the first time I felt the consequence of my rage. For the first time I felt the vulnerability of their age. I could no longer run to them like how I used to as a little girl for anything and everything that went wrong. Now the sack on their shoulders already weighs a ton. The ephermality of life with th

My creative juices have been waiting for me  To be summoned, since long, But little do they know,  That my will to procrastinate is uncannily strong. I spin stories in my head,  Throughout the day. But when I try catching them on paper, They conveniently run away. After an era of contemplation, I manage a line or two, Honoured, I reward myself with a distraction again, Of Facebook and YouTube that I get to pursue. Then my vocabulary limitations, Slyly play their cards, I scour for my lost self-esteem  Along with the right words. A twinge in my tummy, Strikes me out of the blue, As I devote the next couple of hours, Racking my brain for a term, I once knew. Phew! Drained, dejected, disappointed,  I give it up all now, ‘Until next time’  I sincerely vow.

Every year, my landlord conveys his dire wish to my parents to receive my wedding card. Every year, I convey my dire wish to him to renew my rent agreement as well as my "singlehood." I wonder if I have disappointed other Gods as much as Cupid. He must be whining from above at my destiny, "This woman, what a waste!" more so because he must have manifested himself in hundreds of forms through hundreds of friends or random strangers, but each time, each time I have miserably failed him. While my Gods have given up on me, my parents have not. They have everything I lack- an undeterred vision, determination, and dedication to steer me through this ride of groom hunting. You see, the only thing consistent throughout the 28 years of my existence is that I am an average, plain Jane in all aspects alike. So, I get intimidated and overwhelmed by flowery adjectives and fancy titles used in the bio and preference section of the prospects that show up on the matrimonial apps.

By day, I bask in my solitude,  Solitude as a weapon of freedom, To sustain my inner peace,  In a world full of chaos.  Solitude is the shield then,  I love shielding my world with.  By night, I loathe this solitude,  And love to name it as "Loneliness". The warmth fades away.  Cold creeps in my soul,  As I lie awake like a broken-winged bird Counting the hours.  My self-created shield now throttles me,  Amid the silence of the world.