Sometimes, the lessons we learn from our fathers are the ones we are fully aware of. But sometimes there are things they teach us without any words.
The way they conduct themselves in the world. The way they show presence of mind under pressure. The way they seem larger than life sometimes.
The most beautiful lesson my father ever taught me never needed any words. In fact I didn't even realize how I modeled my behavior on this one trait until he passed away.
What is it you ask? Well it is my absolute delight to tell you.
He taught me the power of human vulnerability. He taught me that what the world was intent on proving a weakness was actually a strength greater than...
To those who cut themselves
Hi. I see you. I know some of you personally. I feel all the pain you feel, and my way of expressing it is not all that different from yours.
This letter is not a means to condemn you. It's not a way to pass judgement because I think I know better. In fact, I know I don't.
This is just me trying to say as earnestly as possible that I get it.
I get it.
Maybe not all of it, but quite a bit.
I know what it's like to slice your flesh - sometimes just because you are desperate to feel something - and other times because there's just too much pain inside of you and some of it just begs to be let out.
It doesn't make you wrong. It doesn't make you twisted. I...
I want to stop. The pace our lives are running at these days is way too hectic for me.
I want to slow down. Sometimes I even fancy coming to a complete standstill.
Stillness. When did that become a foreign notion? Some kind of luxury we all dream of but none of us can afford?
I still remember how it used to be my constant companion growing up. Head in my mother's lap, watching the rain dancing on my window, perfectly content with my world and my life.
Whiling away an entire afternoon chasing butterflies in the garden oblivious to the sun on my back.
I miss the days when a water hose and a few cousins was all you needed for endless peals of laughter.
Maybe that's what ...
Wish you all a very happy 2017.
Sorry for disappearing completely. That too without explanation.
Anyways, this is to let you all know that henceforth I will be using my other account (SUNANDINI - 594200) for official purposes. It was formerly the Head Letterist account but I decided that titles are boring and I'd rather be known by my name.
I will henceforth be using that account for all communication with the lettrs community so if you want to write to me, send me a letter there.
I would also like to take this opportunity to offer my services as a mentor for all the writers here who want specific feedback on their writing and tips on how to improve.
Write to me at #5...
I have to say I thought long and hard about this.
But at the end of the day, I am most grateful for every single positive person who crossed my path.
As the years went by it became harder and harder to find them. But when I did - damn! it was magic. People who are walking around this dull gloomy planet like little pockets of sunshine.
The friend who makes me laugh till my insides hurt, the grandparent who has a positive spin on everything, the brother who has the most infectious laughter, the aunt who can imitate you want her to impeccably. There are always around if you know where to look.
'never say die' people,
'of course you c...
I will always come back to this.
No matter how far I wander, or how lost I am, or how deeply the frost of apathy digs its fingers into my being; as long as I breathe I will always find my way back here.
The tapping of the keys a familiar sound as everything inside comes pouring out. Sometimes I know what I will be saying, some days it is a surprise. For the life of me I cannot predict which is which.
Like today, in this moment, I am in this weird space of not knowing what I have to say and yet realising that I absolutely have to say something. Anything. It's a tug I cannot explain. It drives me crazy sometimes, but I wouldn't part with it for all the riches in the world.
To me life will always be about the pause. That tiny little sliver of time before a really big moment, you know?
It's the pause that adds so much more meaning to any moment. Makes it even more special.
Like the one between leaning in and kissing someone or the one between kneeling down and popping the big question.
It's always those tiny little moments where you pause that matter the most to me. Those are the moments that are the most magical and meaningful of them all.
Like when you take a deep breath just before you say I love you to someone for the very first time or when you close your eyes and zone in and focus on what you want or when you are just watching the ...
I love how everyone is constantly up in arms against self harm and physical abuse and what not.
And yet there's a deeper much more lethal form of abuse that almost no one talks about.
Why? Because it comes from ourselves.
I've been extremely fortunate to meet someone recently who has called me on it, several times. But for those of you who don't have someone to do that, I'm gonna try and give you a reality check today.
It's comforting to feel sorry for yourself because it felt good when you started and now it's become almost like a reflex. It's comforting because it's familiar. So familiar that you almost have no other reaction to when something bad happens to you.
I wish to start a series of letters called 'Taboo'.
But first I need some help from you.
Give me a topic that you think people don't like to talk about or that makes them uncomfortable.
I shall try to turn every topic I get into a fictional story or a piece of poetry.
Let's get started.
It had been their ritual for 30 odd years.
Every single morning. No matter what.
Funny how one small gesture can ground you and anchor you to a person and to your life, but there it was.
30 odd years they raised me as their son. My grandparents. For all intents and purposes the most unromantic people on earth, except for this one ritual they shared.
I had lost count of the number of times I saw it. My grandfather getting ready to go to work and calling out to my grandma. My grandma leaving whatever it was that she had been doing and walking over to him.
Him spending the next few minutes standing perfectly still as she took her time fussing with his tie until it met her perfectionist...
There's something I have to talk about. It's going to sound very weird, but I still have to talk about it.
Lately I've been seeing a lot of number sequences. Like a lot of 11:11s. I know. No big deal right? But what if I told you that today itself, I saw at least four such sequences? Yup. I saw 11:11 and then 13:13, 15:15 and 17:17 every time I looked at the clock today.
Think about that for a second. What are the odds of me looking at the clock exactly at those times not once, not twice but 4 times? Do you realise how accurate the timing had to be every time for me to be able to experience that? Do you realize how incredible the odds are of that happening?
Have you e...
A letter to my soul
Today I want to thank you not just for being who you are but for staying true to it no matter what life threw your way.
They used to call you the sunshine girl ever since you were born. You used to bring so much joy everywhere you went. Remember that?
Even in school nothing gave you greater happiness than making others laugh. I loved that about you. The absolute abandon with which you threw your head back and just laughed at the sheer joy of it all. It was incredible to watch.
But with time you really won my admiration with the way you held on to this defining trait of joy that you were born with. Not only that, you turned it into your biggest strength.
Thank you Denice (10067) for the wonderful stamp and the prompt.
You have given me an excuse to write which is always welcome.
The all seeing eye is fascinating to me because I like to keep researching and learning about new and upcoming theories and facts about the world around me. So I watch a lot of youtube videos, follow a lot of interesting accounts on Instagram and generally do all I can to seek out interesting stuff like this.
To me the all seeing eye is the voice of my conscience, which in turn is a part of a benign cosmic energy. It is the part of my soul where nothing is hidden about me from me. It is the light in which I face my darkness.
It is very difficult to be r...
So Martha (55555) sent me this stamp as part of the StampStory challenge and she wants me to write something about this.
So here goes......
I have always been a very curious soul ever since I can remember and on occasion it has even got me in trouble. You know that phrase 'curiosity killed the cat'? It was written for me! No, no, not someone like me....ME! (Yeah, it's that bad).
To me, this door looks like it could lead to someplace interesting. Like quite possibly a place I'd want to explore. Because in my world a door is never quite just a door. It's possibility, it's potential, it's the excitement of exploration.
So my mind comes up with all these fascinat...
The words of Gibran and Rumi
Ringing in my ears
A lush forest of desires
Aflame inside of me
A long suffering silence
Hiding beneath my eyelids
A yearning to be touched
As deep as humanly possible
A constant fight
Against the ever flickering light
Of slowly dying passions
And needs that die everyday
A poets life
A poets struggle
A poets pain
All for that one moment
Of being remembered
Can I touch your face?
Trace the contours of that familiar sight
With trembling fingers
Like I've always longed to do?
Can I hold you close
Inhale the scent of you
Deep inside me
So it gets imprinted
As a memory
In every sinew of my being?
Can I taste your lips
And put to rest
Hours and hours of wondering
Can I look at you
The way I've always wanted to
Can I touch your body
The way I've wanted you
To touch mine
Millions of times
With wonder, joy and
A whole lot of gratitude
That someone like you exists?
Can I hear your thoughts
Without you for once
Expressing them to me
Simply by listening
To the tenor
You're too good to be true
That's what I kept repeating to myself ever since you showed up in my life.
Over and over I repeated it in my head like a mantra.
You always knew the right thing to say
It didn't matter.
You always knew the right thing to do
It didn't matter.
You were always there to handle me at my worst and be with me at my best
It didn't matter.
You're too good to be true.
I became fixated on that. Days and nights of obsessing over every tiny detail of everything that happened between us, looking for flaws.
You're too good to be true. I believed it with all my heart and soul.
Until it became a self fulfilling prophecy.
And that's the story of how I lost y...
*F R I E N D Z O N E D*
Here's what you don't understand.
You my dear are sexy as fuck and it's incredibly distracting because every minute I spend talking to you is torture. I have to act normal. As if whatever you say and do doesn't affect me but it does. Of course it does! Only, you are too blind to see it.
There are moments you get so caught up in what you are saying that I can't help but get caught up in you. There are times you get so passionate about what you're saying that I'd like you to never shut up.
If you were mine I would kiss you every chance I had. That's not even an exaggeration. I would grab you randomly at any moment of the day, slam my body onto yours...
He's a thought
That can lie inside you
Then one day
And just like that
You are back
In that place
As if he never left
And you wonder
What kind of sorcery
To twist time
Into a thread
And wrap it around his finger
So all he has to do
Is pull at it
Every once in a while
To find his way to you
Ever since I discovered lettrs, my friends and family have been constantly perplexed by my obsession with it.
But what they don't understand and what I can never explain is, lettrs is my utopia.
It's what I have always wanted my world to be.
People bare their souls here. Without inhibitions. And I think we can all agree that it's immensely liberating.
This community has proved me right about my most firmly held belief - that once we strip ourselves of all the masks and the pretence that's more reflex than reality, we are all strikingly similar.
Which is why I have come here every time I wanted to safely fall apart, get some perspective on my troubles, share another...
To anyone who thinks they are going through shit right now
Let it out. All of it. Don't even leave out the abuses and the expletives. Really let go.
Scream bloody murder
Write till your fingers can't take it anymore. Unburden it all out on paper.
Once you do that, close your eyes.
Take a deep breath.
Now imagine, it is them writing that letter to you. Them saying all those things to you. Them letting you know that's how they feel about you.
I'm not saying it will solve all your problems. But it will give you some much needed perspective. It might even save you from making a huge mistake.
You see sometimes we assume a lot. Without realising. We have thi...
Pain and pleasure
Go hand in hand
In this world
Where she understands
The look in his eyes
And he hears
The unexpressed longing
In her voice
It's a world
Of delicate nuances
And dark depraved depths
A world where
A sharp indrawn breath
Speaks more eloquently
Than a million words
Need desire hunger
All battle inside her head
The only succour
Her soul craves
She sleeps every night
In the circle of his protection
Around her skin
His next command
Today, he split me open.
Tore down all my defenses.
Buried me in a deluge of words, I know I will never recover from.
Fifteen times his soul called out to me.
Fifteen times I watched as every word unraveled the threads of my being.
Until I came apart.
And now there is no me.
I bleed for you
To the brink of madness
On the edge of insanity
In the throes of a need
And nothing else
There were times
When she said
A lot of things
Only to have them
Treated like nothing
Her innermost desires
Her dirty secrets
So with time
She learnt to hide
Everything she thought
Behind a simple
When did it happen?
Where did it start?
When did you start looking away every time you passed a mirror?
When did you start looking around sheepishly, almost apologetically, for laughing too hard?
When did you start making excuses for the way you are? As if being you is a flaw?
Who taught you to be ashamed? Of your body? Of your thoughts? Of your soul? Of your passions?
Why did you believe them?
Love you say? Did you love them? I'm sure you did. So answer me this - would you do to them what they did to you? In the name of love?
Would you shame them? Try to change them? Try to turn them into a caricature because it suited you?
What's the matter? Did I shock ...
Don't love me yet.
Not until I keep asking you why.
Not until I keep second guessing, and looking over my shoulder, and waiting for things to fall apart.
Don't love me yet.
I'm still hiding. Licking wounds that haven't healed completely. Give me some time.
Because these wounds you see are not anyone else's fault. They're self inflicted.
Don't come close to me. Now is not the time.
I still need to learn to love myself. Especially the parts that seem ugly and nasty. There's a lot I keep burying deep inside me in a dark forgotten corner, thinking that if I don't see it, it won't bother me.
Except it does. All the time. Like the constant ticking of a time bomb abou...