Phoenix

Puffin’ the hand-rolled cigarettes,
Sippin’ on quality scotch,
The smoke filled room and the rainbows in her soul,
3:15 on her broken watch,
She was not the same girl,
The one who fled home,
When she was ordinary and eighteen,
She was not afraid to fall anymore,
There wasn’t much left to be seen,
She was fire and chaos intertwined in harmony,
So she flipped through the pages of a magazine,
The place to which she belonged in all her entirety,
In those pages, she was alive,
Clothed in magic, flaws and time,
While she had survived the war many times over,
The world is now reduced to the wraith of her madness,
Where she had her place in the sun,
The stars got tangled in her hair,
And the moonlight sparkled in her eyes,
The curve of her lips so much like a galaxy’s edge,
She was a broken beautiful universe all in her bruised self.

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Embrace your brokenness for that is what makes you an epitome of beauty and a phenomenon of magic – be fearlessly and unapologetically you.

 


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Affliction

Fill and consume, flutter and fly,
Hold your breath for you know it’s a goodbye;
Live and love, cut and heal,
The heart doesn’t know what it feels;
Forget and forgive, thrash and thrive,
Fulfill these dreams now that I feel alive;
Chaos is my middle name and sometimes I freak out,
Pain gives me pleasure and scars are what it’s all about,
Ingrained in me is the pride and ego you loathe and self-doubt,
I am coming down like a sea storm in your days of drought.

Fuse and form, flow and feel,
Blend in the darkness for light is your deal;
Dos and don’ts, watch and listen,
Let the power of love in your eyes glisten;
Pray and plead, flip and turn,
Fairy tales and happy endings are not what I yearn;
Chaos is my middle name and sometimes I freak out,
Pain gives me pleasure and scars are what it’s all about,
Ingrained in me is the beauty which is never going to burn out,
I am coming down like a sea storm in your days of drought.

Burns and bruises, plays and charades,
My fading youth as the time tears me apart;
Foolish and brave, fumes and faith,
The flash of your memory reduced to a wraith;
Blues and whites, loss and gain,
The sky above my head is pouring blood in vain;
Chaos is my middle name and sometimes I freak out,
Pain gives me pleasure and scars are what it’s all about,
The thousands of kisses I stole from your mouth,
Beware for I shall come like a sea storm in your days of drought.

Virus

So what did I do?
And what was that I knew?
Did you think I was a virus that only grew?
Or was it that my heart had nothing for you?
For what I did and what was done,
For what I knew and what was known,
For what I saw and what was seen,
For what I heard and what was to be heard,
Things turned upside down and the pain was new,
Love became my foe and I was a stranger to you,
Helpless soul and my blurred view,
Lousy memories and the haziness in my thoughts grew,
Fueled up brain but I couldn’t feed my heart,
Love abandoned me and it no more was my mastered art,
Fulfilled with this heart break, I never yearned for a new start,
Beauty in my existence faded and it was all about your poisoned dart,
You killed me with love and the pieces scattered everywhere,
You envied the texture of my smile and the glow in my eyes pierced you,
My insides were bruised and there was nothing I could do,
Following the light, I forgot that I was struggling with the dark all through,
So what did I do?
And what was that I knew?
Did you think I was a virus that only grew?
Or was it that my heart had nothing for you?

Diary of Nobody -XIII-

I haven’t written in a long while but that doesn’t mean you didn’t cross my mind. You did – every single day but I managed to not rant about the pain of being in love with somebody who abandoned me because I have visitors at the moment: oh yeah, you guessed it right! It’s my Mid-Summer Exams!

Not too long ago (if my memory serves me right: May 2014), you waited on me outside the examination hall while I wrote the exam. After the clock had counted down for three hours straight, I tried to barge my way through the crowd so I didn’t have to breathe in the smell of sweat and ink anymore. I managed to squeeze through all the cracks between people after grabbing my bag and revision notes and there you were: standing outside the Charles Wilson with a warm smile and a bottle of water. Without sparing you a chance to speak, I hopped and jumped in excitement giving you a detailed account of the three hours in the examination hall. You watched me fondly and held onto my finger as if I was a kid who would get lost in the crowd. Now that I think back to that moment, I think you were not afraid of losing me in the crowd but instead you wondered about the time when you’d disappear in the same crowd leaving me deserted.

Yesterday, I didn’t want to leave the examination hall because I knew you wouldn’t be there. Although my heart hoped for a miracle but my brain kept it on a leash so I wouldn’t expect miracles. Regardless, my eyes wandered and danced in the hope of merely your sight after I had left the building. Disappointment embraced me and I began walking back to the place which was once our home.


Today, I went through all our pictures from when we first met to when we had bid each other farewell (I am not going to babble about how cute we were together). The shimmer in your eyes and the dimple sinking deep in your chin: I was watching you on the laptop screen and you cast a spell on me all over again. With the moments we had clicked, we had sealed the time within that moment and the memories came rushing back as I moved from one photograph to the other.

After spending three hours watching us together in the photographs and video-clips, nostalgia hit me hard in the gut and left me torn apart (just a little bit). You were very fond of capturing me when I wasn’t aware that you had been clicking me or when I wasn’t posing my usual poses because you were an admirer of natural beauty. Once you said:

“You are naturally beautiful. I must have been the luckiest person on this planet to feel the beauty within you and witness it radiating on your face. I am blessed to wake up to the person who makes my life beautiful every morning. You are allowed to blush without looking away [chuckles].”

So I dressed up all pretty in your favorite emerald green lace dress and clicked away the moment. I sealed my sadness in the photographs while I smiled and cheered (without posing may be) for being fortunate enough to know somebody I could cherish for a lifetime.

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Hide and Seek

Beauty is not her face,
It is her thoughts,
The pain she hides behind her smile,
The tears she saves for the night,
Strength is not her physical capacity,
It is her willpower,
The battles she survived,
Those choices she made,
Wisdom is not her education,
It is her insight into life,
To allow herself the right to have an opinion,
To have the courage to be herself,
Success is not her wealth,
It is her happiness,
The motivation to achieve her goals,
The confidence to pursue her dreams,
Tears are not her weakness,
They are her language,
Whether sorrow or joy,
She takes refuge in them,
But did you ever see her bruised insides,
When she was hung over a lost lover,
And did you ever see the glow in her eyes,
When she had overcome her fears,
So she has been playing hide and seek,
For quite a while now,
You don’t always see what she feels,
Instead you have been looking at a world,
She created so it doesn’t reveal,
The mask she has been wearing to conceal,
Everything she truly is,
For she is scared that you will judge,
Her scarred soul and her intricate heart,
So don’t hate her,
Just let her be,
And set her free.

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Diary of Nobody -XI-

Just because there wasn’t a forever with you – I feel there can never be one.

While our song plays on the radio tonight, I slip in and out of reality making emptiness and nothingness my peers along the way. I am numb to the emotions of life for now. Lately, I have been thinking about you a lot more than usual and it’s intriguing and confusing at the same time. Why can’t you just leave me alone?

I went for a stroll this morning. There were barely any cars out on the road at that hour and the sun was beginning to rise. I liked the city better at this time when it was quiet and peaceful. I inhaled the beauty of the serenity surrounding me and it was in a long while that I didn’t need music to accompany me. Usually, I disconnect myself to drown out the voice of the world with a pair of headphones and my music playlist but today I was trying my best to connect with the same world. I was cherishing the birds singing their songs in the distance. I hummed along with them but the morning was not the same after you had crossed my mind. Suddenly, I was taken back in time (just like that). I wanted to tuck my hand in the pocket of your coat so our fingers could be entwined while we walked.

I was wandering in the valley of our memories, far from reality. She held my hand and brought me back to face the real world. I looked down at this little four-year-old girl pulling down on my sweater’s sleeve. Your name escaped my lips and you were not a secret anymore. I didn’t realize that I had been crying until she pointed it out and demanded a reason for my tears. I panicked and ignored her question and became anxious if she had been out at this hour all by herself.  I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard her call out ‘Daddy, Look I am here’ to a man standing not more than ten steps away with his back facing us looking around for her.

I smiled at her and assured her I was fine. She couldn’t help being the usual quick-witted kid and bombarded me with detective questions like what had I been doing there; if I had been out with my father as well; why would I cry in the middle of the street; if I was scared when she held my hand and who is ‘your name’. I was astonished when she mentioned you not because she heard your name and remembered it but because she considered you an important question-mark-to-be-answered to reveal my mysterious story.

I knelt down so that I was face to face with her. I held both her hands in my hands and told her that I didn’t have answers to her questions but I had something that she would like. I fished through the pockets of my sweater to find this toy I have had from few days ago when I went to McDonald’s. The happiness spread across her face and I witnessed a sunrise right then and there. Her father called out her name again and she responded back with ‘I am coming’.

Before I realized, she hugged me tightly. I knew this was a goodbye hug. Overtime, I have become an expert in knowing how these hugs feel.

“I really like you. Will you like to be my friend? I don’t have many friends”, she whispered in my ear while hugging me.

Before I could respond, she continued: “I can be better than ‘your name’ and then you wouldn’t miss him.”

The tears rolled down my cheeks again and I whispered back that I would love to be her friend. She kissed me on my cheek and ran in the direction of her father.

The man politely smiled at me while she climbed on the shoulders of her father and waved me goodbye with a smile that will stay with me for the rest of my years.

I made my way back to the apartment while I mourned over this short-lived friendship. For the first time since I have known you, I realized I had confided in somebody other than you.

Diary of Nobody -II-

Today I woke up with a pain in my chest, mainly on the left side. You must have been missing me. Does she not take care of you like how I used to? Does she not put your clothes out on the bed while you are in the shower so you don’t have to fish through the cupboard? Does she not prepare breakfast for you before you have to leave for work? Does she even know that you love to eat vegetable-cheese omelette in the breakfast? Does she know that you are allergic to any kind of household work? Does she love you the way I do?

You remember when the first time we moved in together, you told me to never toast bread in the toaster for you. You always liked to make toasts on the pan. I would grease the pan with butter and then spread butter on both sides of the bread and make a golden brown toast for you. You would get annoyed if the corners of the toast were burnt but when I would offer to make another one, you’d always refuse and tell me that you enjoy the crispy corners. I would smile to myself and think that you were the most terrible liar I knew. Over the time, I learnt that if I had burnt the toast, I should make a new one without asking you. You were all about formalities although eventually you would agree for what you want but formalities were necessary in your book of code and conduct. You had to pretend to care to make me feel good and once you were done making me feel special, you’d be like, ‘You’re the wife, know your role.’ I could never stop laughing after that.

The omelette was your favorite in the breakfast (of course with lots of chopped green chillies and red chilli flakes). You always liked it if I would not break the omelette on the pan while flipping it. With time, I mastered that art and I thought of myself as the best omelette chef in the world. You loved my cooking. When I would bring our breakfast in the room; you would once in a while surprise me with a clean and tidy bed. You knew I had a thing for the bed. I always wanted the bed to be made and be clean and tidy. However, you wouldn’t always do it. Your idea was that when I expected it, it shouldn’t be done but when I didn’t; you would make the bed. Your inconsistency and spontaneity always caught me. I remember how you used to look at my disappointed face when the bed was not made and to tease me further, you would put your arms around me from behind, giggle and whisper in my ear that you love to surprise me and watch my expressions. I wonder how we knew each other so well. I wonder how you could ever leave when you told me you saw your God in me.

I loved those times even better when you’d have to go early to work and then return by mid-day. I always liked to wake up with you and see you off (maybe that’s why you always told me that I was the perfect wife-material). When you had to go early, you preferred drinking juice instead of eating breakfast in the morning. However, when it was time for you to return after few hours, I would prepare breakfast for you. I loved to wait on you and would always be looking for you from our apartment’s window (imagine me and my race: kitchen and room, kitchen and room – Such a restless soul). Usually, you’d have the key of the apartment so when you would return; you wouldn’t go to the room (to keep your bag and stuff) or use the toilet (even though sometimes you had to use the toilet very bad because you didn’t like to use public toilets) but you would straight away come to the kitchen, hug me from behind and kiss my mouth. That was your routine. Sometimes, you would be running to the toilet after kissing me to get relieved but the kiss was necessary before anything. It was amazing how I would forget to kiss you at times before leaving the house but you would never forget to kiss my mouth. Do you ever wonder how it would feel to kiss me again? Do you ever wonder how my mouth will taste now — Heartache Berry or Emotional Cherry?

You were very self-conscious about your bad breath, even with me. You had to mouthwash before going to bed every night. Although, you couldn’t ever escape it completely because when you’d wake up and kiss my mouth unconsciously after wishing me a good morning in the bed, it was always too late for you to realize that you have kissed me without brushing your teeth or using mouthwash. I want to confess something today: I loved to kiss you better in the morning than in the night.

Every morning, I wake up with a part of you: sometimes your kiss and sometimes your scent; sometimes the hollow spaces in my heart that your absence fills and sometimes with your picture in my hand. Now that I have written this; I know why I woke up with a pain in my chest today. I might have missed on some part of you this morning and my heart couldn’t allow that injustice with you and your memories.

The flavor of love,
Is it vanilla or chocolate?
The cravings in love,
Are they bitter or sweet?
All that I know about love,
It begins and ends with you,
It’s the flavor of your tongue,
The scent of your body,
The sound of your voice,
The touch of your hand,
The sight of your utmost beauty.

Is Your Soul Worth A Look?

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My soul feels uncomfortable in its very own body. I wonder if I am a disappointing it or choking its voice. It doesn’t communicate with me anymore in the way it used to before. Is it that I am not having sufficient solitude to entertain it? Am I embracing life that will yield only worldly pleasures or am I preparing for Hereafter?

I like to look good, who doesn’t? Perhaps, if not good, then at least presentable. Does looking good serve the reason of my existence? Should I be worried about my physical appearance or the appearance of my spirit? If I came face to face with it someday, will I be able to recognise it. Mirror is my best friend, I love to watch the young woman I am growing into but do I have the courage to watch the reflection of my soul in the mirror? I am always posing for a good picture if somebody flashes their camera in my face. This is the age of ‘Selfie’ – one can hold their cellular phone to their face and capture an incredible shot. I will like to see a ‘Selfie’ of my soul. I am told beauty lies within then why this world is chasing the material beauty that is unsustainable; something that is destined to be destroyed.

We are the nation of fools. We blindly follow. ‘Fuck’ is a casual word for adolescents; if they use it then they think they sound very modern. Another very common word, ‘Bitch’; everything can be described in today’s world with the help of these two words by people around me. Of course, there are exceptions to these cases; hence none of the subject should be taken personally. When will we open eyes and realise it is already too late to undo the damage we have caused to this beautiful planet? When will we stop bullying that quiet girl in the corner of the classroom? When will we stop this disease of Racism from corroding our unity? When will we stop hating if our hearts are capable to love abundantly? I ask this 5-year-old boy to draw a heart. He doesn’t draw the complicated biological heart with veins and blood streams but he takes out his red crayon to draw a gigantic ‘lovely’ heart on an A-4 sheet and then colour it all red. He is innocent and doesn’t know how our hearts have blackened over the years. Without any proof, you call Muslims terrorists. Without any knowledge of their Holy Book, you accuse their religion of preaching hate and war. If terrorists in this world give a bad name to Jihad, did you ever take the initiative to ‘Google’ the word ‘Jihad’? No! You didn’t because you are happy with what Media is feeding you with. You are contented to be a blind-follower. Then why don’t you invite Zombies over and let them take your brains? At least, somebody will get fed.


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The Random Scribbles…

I lie in my bed,
With the shedding memories which were misread.
I miss your touch and the way you held me,
The reason for my smile is gone for I am free.
I walk out of the door and nobody’s there to pull me in,
Can you just not see there lives a *GIRL* under my skin?

————————————————————————-

He respects me,
His efforts always invested for my happiness and glee.
I look here and there to reassure if he is still around,
He shrugs and there is his shy smile to be found.
Beauty is his possession,
For I know, I have made a CONFESSION!

——————————————————————————

You went away,
I waited for there was much to say,
Turn around if there is any way,
Can you hear me shouting – please stay!
This world wont give me a chance to pray,
Can we relive those golden days?
Forgive me, I’m on my knees today,
Leave me the burning scar – remind me to smile everyday!

————————————————————————————

Sleepless nights in the cold December,
Loneliness is all what I can remember.
The river of my tears that flowed before your door step,
My insignificant soul meant nothing but an ultimate misstep.
The one embrace I crave for now is,
The arms of death to spare me with bliss.

Lived Up To Sway Passionately!

As we lived up to sway passionately!

Do you remember?
That boy from the mountains,
Where the dead-cold December,
And the freezing fountains,
Lived up to sway passionately.

The moment I saw him,
Butterflies attacked my belly,
My heart bleeped on a whim,
I melted like a jelly,
My lashes began to flutter,
As the rain drops drenched my face,
I rhythmically began to utter,
The love song rejoicing our dreamlike embrace,
His glimpse made my heart stutter,
As we lived up to sway passionately.

He was talking to his guy friends,
Smiling and laughing as his dimples sank,
Deep within his cheeks as I saw their ends,
Alas! What a beauty, my heart bowed to thank,
Could I touch him with my eyes?
Didn’t he observe me watching him?
Chills run down my spine as he tried,
To look at me with the corners of his eyes,
I turned around and smiled to myself,
As we lived up to sway passionately.

I turned back to find nobody in his place,
I cursed myself for moving my eye off his face,
I couldn’t let go off him – I need to chase,
My trembling heart began to race,
Racing heart couldn’t get back to its pace,
Just then I felt a sensational embrace,
Somebody tracing my arms from behind in-case,
I turned around and his smile shining down with grace,
His gleaming eyes requested for a dancing phase,
As we lived up to sway passionately.

The dance floor so welcoming yet,
All I could see was only him I bet,
He pulled me closer while I began to sweat,
Shoving off the anxiety – we were ready to set,
For a flight on his private jet,
A flight to the love land where I threat,
If biting on a poisonous apple would be my regret,
I didn’t let go off him as he gripped me tight,
Didn’t worry to have a poisonous bite,
My mighty strength announced him my personal knight,
I kissed him right and he made me fight,
To hug him tight and hold his sight,
As we lived up to sway passionately.

He bowed his head,
As his heart bled,
For our union in bed,
But I could not be misled,
By the crocodile tears he shed,
So I took a thread,
And tied it on his wrist until red,
He gave me the look of dread,
But I smiled as he fled,
To another land,
With another sexy damsel,
For another grand celebration on the stand,
As they lived up to sway passionately.