Girlishly

A rebel is what you call, A fighter is what I prefer, The most important thing of all Is that the qualities don't differ, To stand for what I believe, To look at people leave, It does break my heart for a while But more than that it brings about a smile, For it exposes the real ones And the cruel ones, And along it brings enlightenment to my soul, And peace to my mind, To be able to find  A part of me in all, To be alive and willing, To be thoughtful and thinking, To be educated and building, To be sensible and helping, Life is a game Battlefield, if you will, To come out alive  Is the mildest of will, Injuries do pain, But can never over-power the gain, I wish this human race Condemned the norms  And started off believing In possibilities and forms.

Not having met you Never made me feel empty, But having met you Makes me feel weak, Not that I can't survive, But it's a struggle of not wanting to, A struggle of knowing All that should be known, And yet unable to Hold back from the unknown, A dying sense of urgency Although there is none in the vicinity, A profound feeling of having found A feeling so intense That it just couldn't be spent Even after exhausting every cent.

A question has been Haunting me Of rights and wrongs, Asking me with bland eyes To figure out the wants, I held to this thought For very long, Having been taught That lesser the mistakes Better the stakes, What I seem to have learnt Is that the more the score Of your mistakes The greater the chances Of knowing what it takes, The lesser you commit mistakes The fewer the opportunities And smaller the gates.

I can't stop to notice How beautiful the women That surround me are! Look at the dresses And the glares, And the lip shades, And the flowing cloth With texture so soft, As if they never Existed without, Look at the surroundings In which they merge Appearing no lesser than Nature's  sculpture, So pure and  naïve Yet filled with chives, I often get stuck On images so bright, How come it is for beauty That we strive? To achieve and own it Like a materialistic pleasure, Designed to fulfill Our egoistic treasures. The notion of getting noticed, A deadly yet an attractive one, Has misled us into believing That otherwise we would be invisible.

Distance never worried me Until it became a reality, So dark That plans seemed bookish Fear seemed real And pain took over The feeling of cordial, Everything felt still At times brutally unreal, Sending messages aboard Of struggle and its sequel, I never knew The last time we  Hugged and kissed, That it would be so long Before the next, That our life will become restricted to texts, That our hearts will flutter At the name of love, But will silently utter The wish to be loved, Only if I knew before Of the abandoned touch, Of the feelings much, Of the missing feels, Of the kissing reels, Would I have stayed Longer and longer, Maybe leaving never.

After many days My heart felt something, Don't know if  It is the beats Or their  Fast beating, A sense of losing control Yet finding the shore, A ship so lost In looking for the Sun, Still making love With the Moon, Today my heart yearned Not for some love But for an empty space, Filled with silence And a responsive case, I don't know  Where to look And whom to call, All I know is that There is a call From my destiny And its conch, Urging me to take refuge And leave it all to God, Storms are nothing new Nor are the tidal waves, All that is new Is this fear of losing myself, Drowning has been felt And storms have been dealt, Then from where is This new intensity of Fright emerging, As if my whole being Is submerging.

What a relief to be able to differentiate between sadness  and grief.   Sadness is momentary bringing in mood swings, While grief is a shock to nerves taking its own time to heal.   Being unaware  of either of them I took head on the winds of change, without giving a thought, to what it is and what it's not, and learnt the hard way that it's life's way to remind me of my humanness and Time's unescapable sway.   Naivety is cute but it doesn't help like a parachute, when you need to land on the canvas of life, rather it needs to be suctioned away, to bring back the balance to the wavering flight.   Looking back  I realize, how hopeless it would be to remain alive and yet not experience life.

Why is it that we humans frown when we see  a fellow human in a crown ? Are those our insecurities Or our mighty fears, Or simply a desire to have what they hold dear ? Why does a smile ignite fumes, when it is simply trying to perfume the garden outside, since the inner one is in doom ? What is this struggle to show appreciation yet feel overwhelmed, with all the incoming beauty, which is merely a strand ? What are these perceptions of feeling the lack, which was never anyone else's snack ? Why take things just to own, to feel that finally you hone the skill of survival and that of fight, when we are just a speck in the expanse of night ? What if we were shown the visualizations myriad, springing from each soul in the quest of becoming whole ? What is this completeness after which we run, are we sure that acquiring it would be fun ?

I do not want To be reduced To flesh, When I am A piece of Stash. Delivering the uniqueness  With a touch of love, I am a daughter I am a dove, I am a companion I am a friend, I am what you want  From within. Remember my words Till the thin Line between  Attention and respect Clears your head And lends a vision To see the beauty within. My wish Is an existence  To be fulfilled  Without a glitch Of fakeness And dirt, Coming from hollow  Character. Look at me And try to remember, How did you see me At first, Before being told About thirst ? That is the realness  I seek, From each one of us Who is unique. A revival of sort Is pushing from within, To pour all the love And care Towards the one Who keeps alive The flare.

I have surrendered To this night, And I am not Ready to fight, A battle with conscience Of unaware signs. Like a thug It snugs Into my deepest scars, To check what is Open ajar, Like a bleeding wound Needing tending From the roon. I look up At the roof If not sky, Calling to me  Through fog And smeared cloth, Telling of colors anew About which I never knew. This night feels heavy With a tightening grip, Invisible to all Yet holding every tip, Of my dripping thoughts And yielding wounds, Awaiting an arrival, But not so soon.

There always comes a time When you can't take it no more. The musical laughter, The critical gaze, The fun-loving way And all such stuff Seem like hay. It's like an end To an era, An end  To giving in, An end To holding on, An end To clinging tight To what seemed right. It awakens fear And anxiousness of sort, And trembles my heart At the thought Of an ending and a beginning Without any prior knowing. Still, There's always a way, When the night ends It becomes a day. Though painful And empty as hell, Some endings are Better than, Sustaining and enduring The ripples of brokenness, Taking my mind and heart Towards a trench.

Killing confidence Is a matter of seconds, While building it A matter of years, Not an accusation But a belief That childhood Is filled with People and thieves, Stealing the confidence Gifted at birth Like it was nothing But dirt, To get it back Was a huge task When as a child We were simply Taught to ask, It took me years If not decades To snatch it back From the hands of beings Both cruel and smiling Making my existence Feel like drowning, Though a battle Worth fighting And a prize  Worth owning, To get back What was mine, It felt unfair Again and again With time, And then it  Hit me hard That maybe They had borrowed it  As a reward For being born before And not having A worthy core, And an epiphany  At best Could make me At the behest Of understanding Forgive them  And forget.

I want to thank All the people who stayed, Leaving behind the ones  Who betrayed, The ones happy for me, The ones caring and free, The ones soft and kind, The ones that remind Me of several ways In which I matter In their lives and days, People who don't  Put me on pedestal Of right or wrong, Rather who consider Me a human, Made up of Emotions and songs, And different versions Of elementary bonds, The ones with antennae For understanding my silence, Even when I try my best To deceive, Saying that I am fine And then up sleeve, Looking at them  Fills me with hope, Building in me A belief so dope, About hearts and souls, With beautiful moulds, Adding colors to my life And filling me with More and more scope.

A soft breeze And I think of your touch, A mild sun And I remember your kind heart, A wild mane And I am reminded of your light kisses, A beautiful day And I feel your presence A happy moment And I look forward to share, An adventurous day And I get excited to tell, An upset mood And I wait to discuss, A messy day And all I want is To hear your voice Mundane activities Don't feel the same, As if all they needed Was to hear your name, To get started And to get done, Before the brain recognizes The boring nature of the same A look from you And I am energized, A supportive stare And then I stop to care, About all the worries and deeds Waiting for me to weed How come You bring this difference, How well you know About the deference, Have you taken a pledge To always bring a smile And open up the cage, Or is it your own plight Urging you to get into this fight ?

This fear, That we hear, Between those ears, That tells us to stop, And not do what we love, And makes us feel like a dove We let it stop us, Time and again, Without realizing it's presence, Irrespective of our pretense, Leaving space for doubt, When we are about, To do something worthy and Proud To go beyond it, Is a warrior's take, When only losing is at stake, But that seems too much, Combined with the imaginations, That destroy us as such I hope we recognize, Whenever it whispers, And question it why it exists, when we don't need it's advise, To help us fix ourselves, Or to build from the grind.

Adding value, That differentiates, Your presence from absence, And adds remembrance,  To what you offer as experience, The vibrancy and the countenance. A value which makes living full, Which makes dying successful,  Which leaves footprints on lives, Of those to whom you give your time. It's not fair to compare, Attention with value,  Because beware, Similar they look on The superficial layer, But when dug deeper , They leave you bewildered.

At times there comes a slack, Maybe it's the intent we lack, Or we are tired and weary, Of listening and obeying simply, If feels like the shackles of trust, Are binding us tightly to our crust, But only if we could go astray, Would we really know how to stay, It's generally not long before, We realize, Of the hefty price, That we are made to pay, To keep us in control, In our own mind, And happily give away, Our freedom and our time. Life is full of roadblocks, Some with, while some without rocks, Each one has to be dealt with carefully, So that we can get what we want happily, It's strange to stumble so often, But there are no other options, For if we stopped even for a day, Who would cover up for the delay ? What if we could predict it all, Or maybe get some help, And make it before the fall, Would that help us grow and learn, Or would it simply add more turns ? A challenge, a contest or a game, Irrespective of different names, What life seems to be doing is, Pushing us

Do you feel addicted to dark, Like not the darkness in your mind, But to the one seen at night, The one that pours into your soul, That which can never feel light. Does it attract you, A pull to unfold, All your secrets, That remain untold, And trust the Moon, And it's light, And believe In it all, Without fright ? That which saddens the heart, But gives a lot of peace, Deeper it goes into the memory, And unwinds all that lies waiting,  For you to look at it once, Before forgetting and regretting.

The un-asked-for evaluations Entering our minds, From different directions And of all kinds, Mixed with emotions Beyond our control, But giving us feelings Of not being whole A set of words Sometimes the tone, And very less regard For how we have grown A tale of past To convince the cast, Against the claim  And to blame, Us for being us And the entire clan Arising from nowhere Still so powerful, Showing the dust Even to the rightful, Just to fulfill The urge to revive, That feeling of incompleteness And that of being left behind.

Do we realize How many layers Of clothing are there, That we wear ? The first one being The skin, Keeping us intact, Whole and thin. The second one being The garments, Protecting us against The wild winds. And the third one being  The accessories, And the luxuries, Electrifying our looks, While we try to be in Everyone's good books. In the fight to survive, In fact to thrive, Do we lose essence Of our purest being, Hiding behind the scenes, Of these extra layers  And those extra skins ? Are we losing track Of our purpose And our quest, Just because we are So obsessed, With the colors and tones, With the beauty and bones ? Or it is all really a conspiracy To keep us stuck, In this modern rut Of belongings and Things, Accentuating our being In ways superficial, Yet they look beneficial ? Are we truly getting lost In becoming who we are not ?

How do you suppose That your opinions matter, When no one really Bothers your chatter ? As if a drop in the ocean Or an ant on the ground, I keep wondering What is this extra sound ? The one that doesn't Let me be myself, The one that brings to me News without askance, The one that persuades To go against my own wishes, And that Which brings about twitches. The freely given words From here and there All hay-wired, Bring no value to me Except for exposing The people and their minds. What if we never heard What was being said about us ? Whether behind or in front, Irrespective of the person ? The provocation that they bring along, Without listening to the bird song, Or falling in love with individuality, Surely gives proof Of how screwed Are our conceptions Of judgments and goofs. 

The ones who accept The dirt and the guilt, The gift and the built, The pain and the rain, The past and the cast, The beauty and the duty. I have been confused For long, Thinking family was blood And that is where  I belonged. It seems, Finally the bubble has burst, And has quenched my thirst. It's difficult to put in words, Still I will try, Not for myself but for the ones That deserve to be told, About how beautifully they unfold The truth about love and life, While I watch awed, Not ready to believe. Blood can only tell  Where you come from, Because you never Get a choice, But what you call family, Is surely the people In whom you rejoice. The ones who don't  Give up on you, Even when you yourself do. These are the gems  To be held close and tight, It's because of them That you lose your fright. They clear the dust From your eyes, To make you see The beauty within, That lies. How incomplete our existence Would be, To

Some days you love, Some days you leave, On some you smile, On some you crib, On some you take, On some you give, On some I matter, On some I don't, On some you bother, On some you just won't. These mild storms Of emotions, Feel like tides In the ocean, Sometimes it hits hard Like a rock on the head, Sometimes the fears Drown me And make me feel dead, The spark feels lit And legitimate, Though at times You make me think Is it even a date ? The depth on some days, Makes me believe More than me In you, While on other days It questions My own thoughts About me and you, I keep thinking And fighting, Don't know with whom And for what ? Are we even Made for each other  Or not ? Looks like, This love is tough And so is the will, The intentions are good, So maybe we should Leave the worries behind And take out some time, For this mysterious ride Before the end of tide.

I feel grateful On some days For all the ways, That people use To hurt and Despair, To tear you apart And rummage. They don't understand, It's the soul That holds strength. It's like a muscle Being torn apart While in a gym, To become stronger And tougher In your own skin. The more you bleed, The more you win, The more you suffer, The more you conquer, The more you fall, The more you rise. These sudden punches Landed by the Fate, On occasions We couldn't anticipate, For a moment Throw off the balance, And make everything else Appear without essence. And so now comes  The moment, To see it as An opportunity, And rise up To learn new moves Of the game To sustain.