|A dreamer, melancholic ,self introspective, lazy being|
"I have been hurtful,
devouring your green lush leaves
Feasting on your flowers , till they lose their purple.
Your flowers didn't adorn wreaths on holiday eves,
For no one would pluck it from worm infested plant.
I want to undo the things I did but I can't .
You were gorgeous and green
before I came into this scene.
I grew at the expense of your kindness and beauty,
Oh,my love,gullible one,you always thought of it as your duty.
Now that I have shed my young hideous self,
I ask this question to myself,
As I watch your flowers blooming with nectar for me,
Do I deserve to be loved this much?"
And that what was told to its host plant by a butterfly.
#13 word story
The freed bird returned to its cage as it was unfamiliar to freedom.
Roses are red,
violets are blue.
Give me the tears you shed,
for I'll pass the moisture to your lips and drench it as dew.
The first moment of the new year, we all celebrate it. We wish for good things to happen, promise to be better, get excited about new beginnings. Actually every moment in our life carries same opportunities and same possibilities. But what's special about the new year moment is the vibe it carries; it reminds us of the passing of an entire year. It is indeed full of hope and excitement. But remember one thing, even if you fail to keep your new year resolutions don't think that the moment is gone. Every moment is special. Every moment is something new. Cherish every moment.
new year wishes everybody!
I had some uncertainity stuck on the nibs of my pen,
the words couldn't come out then.
Now you have set it free,
a story there'll be.
And there is no hatred in me,
and never will be.
Long months of silent solitude...
Either of them never called.
It was a drowsy Sunday morning as any other.
But there lurked something in her mind today,some intense longing growing in her, a longing for him. Everyday she would think of him,but today,more than ever.
"A whole year has passed.There's no harm in calling him now"
And she mustered up the courage to call .
Meanwhile he was staring at her contact number on his phone lying on his bed,tears dried up on his cheeks. He misses the perks of being her husband,being with her. His solitude grows more on every holiday. The phone ringed.
" I must be dreaming".
The phone kept ringing.He came back to his senses.He answered.
She's an old soul trapped in a young girl,
caught up in her own mental whirl.
A novel encapsulated in a poem,
a gypsy who owns a home.
A roar in a whisper,
A loner, a thinker.
A fire frozen within ice,
You think you know her? Think twice.
Wild things in an unlikely place,
out of place.
December is homecoming
Late morning yawns,
Guess I 've never seen winter dawns.
Caressing my hair, rushes the chilly wind
I think of the months left behind,
Sitting at my doorstep
Sipping a coffee cup.
December is winter solistice,
holidays, festivals and pure bliss
Red depressing lights, same old D J guy, at a corner, few people passed out on a couch. She was acquainted with the place now. The place where she and Sean came when she wanted an escape from the people who know her. Mostly, when she had a heartbreak.
As she sipped a glass of frothy beer, she could feel something frothing inside her, froth of despair, self pity and emptiness..
she could not take another sip of the beer. No more alcohol. There is enough addiction in her life, of love, and the pain that came with it. Somehow she got addicted to this melancholy which seemed to never leave her.
On days like this, she used to get so drunk, that made her all maudlin. Then she would talk to Sean ...
Chaos around you will never
until you listen to your
The STIGMA of your past,
An enigma it is, which I bear.
It's not you it's me whom I FEAR.
For you have shown me your demons inside,
Still it' s foolish of me to decide,
To stay in this darkness
For I choose kindness.
That's what I do,
P. S-For the ladies out there-sometimes you accept the stigma your partner has(stigma of affair, abuse or alcholism or anything). Yes, there is hope in love, hope that they'll change. But remember, give away your love, not your dignity. It is never your fault. You are enough.
# I love to write day
Lovely yearning of her mind
Lovable is her mind,
Emphathetic, one of a kind.
Knitting threads of mysteries, still
Smiling with an unforeseen ease.
Hides within hypnotic details,
Yearning to be unraveled.
Not merely a rose she offers you
It's a gift before you say adieu
A white rose she was,
Before you came across.
Red drops of love you shed,
Shaded her petals red.
No more fragrance there is,
But a stench of broken promise.
she doesn't ask for romance,
Only another chance
to turn white again,
Blood red is only pain,
Make her fragrant again,
before her petals fall off in vain.
From the red rose you made her, turn her white
befiore you leave her tonight.
Into my ears your voice came across,
Silencing the chaos.
From a distance a song heard,
Without any cause,
An awkward pause..
Then our lips talked,
You will not find me in
your heartbeat but in the silence
inbetween those beats..
She's rude ,she's mean they say.
Little did they know,
She becomes rude when she's extremely low,
Broken is what she is,
But forced to be normal.
A whisper from within-it's not your fault
But all she could hear was the world telling her otherwise.
Girl with a wild soul
My negative thoughts are illegitimate children of overthinking and self doubt.
They are overpopulating ,knowing no bounds..
How do i drive them out?
How scary it sounds ?
Those evenings when my inner demons would
haunt me,U sat beside me.
Chaos in my mind,But u were too kind.
My words made no sense
I meant no offence.
My tangled thoughts wouldn't be
Untangled if u weren't there.
I lost count of those gentle head slaps you gave me.
Enjoyed every time pretending to be hurt..
Hours of talking still u wouldn't get tired.
Wonder what's keeps u going?
My Fights,laughs,tears ,fears,
u were there in them.
You are to me like paper is to pen..
As special as that..
"ഭൂമിയിൽ മരണത്തേക്കാൾ അനിശ്ചിതത്വം പ്രണയത്തിന് മാത്രമേയുള്ളൂ."- K.R.Meera
It's a great quote by K.R Meera from her novel 'hangwomen'(aarachar).
This one is my personal favourite.
It means only love is more uncertain than death on Earth.
I think this is one of the greatest quotes ever written on love and is worth sharing with u all.
Death can fall upon us any instant but falling in love is far more uncertain than death. It gets inside us within a blink of an eye,knocks at our heart inbetween the silence of our heartbeats .Love's whisper is more acute than tick of a clock that sends a chill through the spine ,more painful than final gasp of death,faster than a lighting bolt.Love's ways a...
Thinking of religion,faith and Gods ,the first question that comes to my mind is why did religions started to form in the first place?
Humans being keenly observant and conscious creatures were always enthusiastic about the things happening around him ,trying to make sense of complex phenomena which nature showed him and of his very existence.Perhaps the things which did not made sense made him awestruck;he started seeking the answers to these in his own intuitions and that set the first stepping stone towards the belief of something supernatural,towards the believing almighty,towards spirituality and philosophical thoughts.
He started finding traces of God ,that higher power in things he e...
What can be more painful than becoming the biggest sorrow of someone whose happiness was the only thing you ever wished for?
I wanted to gift him a rose of my love but ended up hurting him with its thorns instead...
നാമം ചൊല്ലി ശീലിച്ച അവളുടെ നാവും ആമേൻ ഉരുവിട്ടു ശീലിച്ച അവൻ്റെ നാവും അന്ന് ഒന്നിച്ചു പറഞ്ഞു"ഇത് അവസാനിപ്പിക്കാം"
ഫോൺവിളിയുടെ പശ്ചാത്തലത്തിൽ അപ്പോൾ മുഴങ്ങിക്കേട്ടത് അടുത്തുളള മുസ്ലിം പള്ളിയിലെ ബാംഗുവിളിയും....
Love of ours was like a hangman's knot secured between the third and fourth vertebrae. Either the noose gets tightened and the person dies or the rope breaks and the person escapes .But even those who broke the rope couldn't remove the noose from their neck. It will choke us for the rest of our life.
Inspired from the novel 'Aarachar'(hangwoman) by K .R Meera
Here's something to think about...
There are two types of love:-one sided love(osl) & two sided love.
Which is better? They say one-sided love is unconditional & the most purest form of love.Others say the magic of true love works only in two sided love..What's difference between these two?
Share your thoughts in an open letter taged ' osl&mutuallove'
Words refuse to be written by my pen, with the ink of my melancholy,as if they wish to stay untold ....
entangled in my neverending thoughts.....
Poetry that drips through the cracks of my heart fail to ooze through the nib of the pen...
I have an ocean to let out...
but even a drop won't come out...
Words are stubborn ,stuck in my stubborn heart...
Like a beautiful rain stuck in those dark clouds that makes the sky look intimidating while it doesn't pour out..............