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 fu...

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 li...

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. 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.