Skin and Bone

All that belongs to you is only skin and bone

No freedom to speak

The voice you produce is carefully coached to everyone’s liking and the voice you own is buried in a moss of childhood memories.

No freedom of expression

Societies schooled to create independent strong headed people; proud of their uniqueness but ashamed of their sensitivity. You go to bed with an amalgam of emotions but your smile on the picture is well tailored.

No freedom of choice

Every decision made had a string of variables to be satisfied but none satisfied you.

No freedom to love

Galvanized you seek their hand but on way are a million hands to be shook. They find yours rough, skinny, sloppy, or sweaty. Anything but just a hand holding a lover’s heart.

Yet, you decide to walk your truth. Step by step crossing bridges of vindication and paths of acrimony. The hand that once held a lover’s heart is now estranged. The voice that made people listen is now silenced by the path you’ve chosen.

And all that belongs to you is only skin and bone.

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To defeat the mind.

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The human mind is so powerful. It has the ability to separate you from your surroundings and facilitate you to embark into a journey of creative ideologies and illogical idiocy. The mind empowers you to think, perhaps distinguishing you from an animal. All it takes is a moment of calmness for the mind to let you slip into an infinite sea of thoughts. For all you see, hear, and believe is just a fraction of the universe. The mind gives you the superior power to save, prevent, create, destroy, influence, dictate, provoke, conquer, and justify for reasons driven by objectivism or altruism. A repository of memories filled with joy, regrets, success, and failure reminding you of the consequence of every action you once took. A mental memo of your belief-system to create experiences and opportunities which are made to exist because of how powerful your mind’s persistence is. The mind is so resilient and intimidating that even the Universe bows to its potential. The mind is superior to time for it is not subjected to only progress but also to depreciate. There is no present without its acceptance and there can be no future without its approval. It is an entity of its own beyond the control of any religion, bureaucracy, and environment. The mind is dimensionless because of its unfathomable capacity to process, perceive, and execute. The mind however is always paralyzed by another entity living in a secluded niche which has no beginning and end, no proof of existence, no definition, no ambition, the silent king maker, the magnet of controversies, the bizarre opportunist, the innocent victim – ah, the Soul.

#infinity, #mind, #soul, #thoughts

Haiku 1.21

ha

1

There is something different

about that girl

In a side braid and spectacles

2

We need more wine;

she smiled at him and said

We need more stars

3

She frowned at the starless sky;

and woke up to a drizzle

Accepting the universe’s apology

4

The breeze tamed her wild mane,

the clouds danced swiftly,

And the stars twinkled in her soul

5

She yelled at the dark clouds –

stop grumbling and go away;

It’s time to romance the moon

6

On way to see her friends;

but she is in a new city they thought

She was soon spotted in a library

7

An endless affair

with words

Her only constant

8

She fell in love

with the only man

Who never touched her

9

I love running

from reality

And towards food

10

What a genius, they praised

all she ever wanted

Was a good night sleep

11

Love is for the brave;

all I want is

Giggles and Wine

12

Watching her drink alone

how lonely they thought;

She was smiling at the moon and talking to the ghosts

13

Numbers never lie;

the white collars laughed

The poets believed

14

Look at the moon

said the lover

In a long distance relation

15

He died last evening;

he stopped living

An year ago

16

The traveler’s luggage

has clothes, food

Hopes and Dreams

17

She is bold and sweet

like the queen bee

And her honey

18

Without him she was

like the lone wolf in a desert

And the falcon in the mountains

19

Just enough to smell

the earth and walk;

The rain obliged

20

Employed as an analyst

working like an artist

Living like a poet

21

A good story should

cast a pluviophile

In a desert

#haiku, #minimalism, #poetry

Separation Anxiety

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She has been a traveler for the majority of her life because of her family, profession, and by choice. Being territorial never suited her gypsy soul. She always chose the less traveled paths and strangers excited her more than family did. She carried her free-spirits with her everywhere she went. Her arrival lighted up the room and her departure always caused dismay. There is a part of her which looks forward to the next destination. The thought of change makes her heart jump with joy and begins to weave the beginning of a magical journey in her mind. There is also a part of her which causes her soul to get restless and distressed at the thought of moving on. The thought of leaving something/someone behind causes more distraught than the thought of experiencing something/someone new.

In the constant tug-of-war between routine and growth, she is often confused to make a choice. Is it the people that are tough to leave behind or the place? If it is the place, then isn’t that contradictory to her not so territorial self. If it is the people, why is making the choice so tough? For the place can be recreated but the person cannot, so why is there a dilemma at all?

The new destination was different but comfortable, it was noisy but serene. She was friendly with everyone but friends she had few. She spoke to the moon in many a way that only she and the universe understood. She loved feeling the earth and sang to the silent whispers from the woods.

But the people were different and so were the trees. The wind was rough but she was ready to sail. Something about the new people made her change a little, she had to become less demanding and more forgiving. Something about the new place made her change a little, she had to become less comfortable and more adjusting.

Little did she know; it was neither the place nor the people she missed, it was the person she knew she was, it was the person that the place made her and the person that the people enjoyed being with.

Little did she know; she had a separation anxiety neither for the place nor the people but for herself.

 

#anxiety, #emotions, #relationships, #separation, #separationanxiety

The Loud Silence

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That unexplained void

A pathless journey

Directionless destination

Perfectly blurred vision

A crowded serenity

The expected serendipity

Failure in succeeding 

Joy in loss

Broken bonds

Bonded wounds

A melancholic smile

And the loud silence

Perhaps, what else is life made of?

 

#anecdotes, #life, #melancholy, #poetry

Letter From A Daughter

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Dear Mom,

It has been a while now that we have been separated from each other, a while now that you and dad have gone to a place far away from my reach. I feel your presence at times when I sit at the yard and feel the breeze blow by. I do not believe in God or in the idea of heaven, but, I hope that both your souls are together and where ever you reside – you reside with happiness and joy.

How unfair is it for you both to leave me alone, how bitter I felt at the sight of all those who walked by their parents, but, then as though you tried to remind me of your presence, you would send someone to tell me how I look just like you, and I smile. I smile thinking about all the times I hated looking like you and I smile at how you loved clicking pictures with me.

How unfair is it for the world to let go of a beautiful woman like you, so charming that even dad could not help but fall for you. Mom, do you still think about how dad hated you for smoking on his bus, and how you rebelled at him for using his personal radio while driving? your presence so captivating, although, 25 years by age apart, dad and you built a beautiful home together.

I am sorry for not taking a day off from work, perhaps, I would have taken you to the hospital in time, perhaps, I would have held your hands while you went into an eternal sleep.

How could anyone love someone so much? how was it so easy for dad to not leave our house while it was burning down. I was so angry on myself for not being strong enough to carry him on my back from the fire to light – from death to life.

Mom, did you really send those crows home a day before the fire? Was it true like dad said – that the crows were there to take him to you, would you send crows to me too when I am ready?

After the accident I was able to recover a box, a box full of memories, a box full of yours and dads love. How blessed am I to grow up to parents so passionately in love with each other, so much so that even death cannot do them apart. Mom, I want to thank you to marry dad, he has set a standard so high – there can never be another like him.

Mom, it took me yours and dads death to realize that death is so final, there is no negotiation and there is no second chance. I feel foolish for all the times I choose to stay away from you and dad, for all the times I left home. Coming back to you and dad was the best decision I made. I am sorry mom that I never told you how much I love you, I never told you how honored I feel to be your daughter and I never got a chance to hug you goodbye.

As I stood watching our house burn down to ashes, I realized life was never going to be the same anymore – for you and dad were gone, and I stood in an abyss, until he came along and held my hand. He takes good care of me mom, he even helped me plan the funerals. It took me your death to realize that the world has so much kindness and empathy.

Finally, mom I want you to know that I have been strong, I have taken care of everything that you left incomplete, I am not crying in a corner or leading a melancholic life, instead, I am going to graduate school. I have learned to become a more sensitive and matured woman. I want to become a woman graceful like you and compassionate like dad. And every time I sit at the yard and I feel the breeze blow by, I know that you and dad have found a happy place and once again – I smile.

Your Loving Daughter,

Mouse.


 

I met Vanessa in graduate school, there was something about her that always intrigued me. I was very judgmental about the person I saw on the surface, until one day, when I got an opportunity to converse with her and learn about the unfortunate death of her parents. She lost her mother due to an illness and within few months in a fire accident, which she survived – she lost her home and her father. Vanessa mentioned to me about how she was able to recover a box which had letters and notes which her parents wrote for each other. It was such a humbling experience to talk to her and I feel honored that she allowed me to write her story.

If not anything, people like Vanessa and her parents, remind us of joy in little things, of gratitude and of loving madly and truly.

#daughter, #death, #emotions, #father, #life, #love, #mother, #parents

Amalia

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Seven more hours for the day to pass, for the potion to work on me

For me to go into a deep sleep, away from a world of grief

Reality deepens my wounds, reminding me of all the good time we spent together

Of all the days filled with laughter and joy where the sounds of sorrow was unknown

I smile and tell myself, this is the last time I go to bed alone

For this time, when I fall asleep we will be together again

There he was with a bouquet of the finest roses for his Amalia

He was welcomed by faces he did not recognize

And they looked at him with disbelief

The news of his death was erroneous after all

The crowd began to clear, and he was finally left alone with her

Her scent lingering in the air, he laid where she last laid

And felt her velvet skin embrace him

He smiled and went into a deep sleep telling himself

For this time, when I fall asleep we will be together again

#deadroses, #death, #emotions, #forever, #immortal, #love, #seperation