WOMEN - ALL ROUNDER- Nithya K

Honoured of women, robust and brave,

Whose stories through antiquity, often untold,

Let us make merry their strength and elegance,

In this epic, their attendance we embrace.

With bravery in their hearts, they stride,

Breaking barriers, no bounds to hide,

From ancient times to modern days,

Women blaze trails in uncountable ways.

In moms' love, a guiding light,

Nurturing souls, day and night,

With tender care and never-ending love,

They boost us high, like a gentle dove.

World of various roles we find,

Women's strength and grace intertwined.

They wear many hats, with hearts so vast,

In society's tapestry, their roles steadfast.

As mothers, they support life's tender start,

Nurturing with love, an art and heart.

In the warmth of their embrace, we thrive,

Guiding us through life, helping us survive.

Workplace, they break the mold,

Leaders and modernizers, their stories unfold.

With passion and skill, they pave the way,

Shaping industries come what may.

As daughters, they bring family's legacy,

With care and respect, they bond the sea.

They honor traditions, yet forge ahead,

Matching heritage with dreams they spread.

As friends, they standpoint by our side,

In happiness and tears, they're our pride.

Their companionship, a promise so true,

In life's journey, they see us through.

Society's tapestry, they nap their thread,

Their roles diverse, like colors spread.

Women's strong point, in every role they play,

Enriches our lives, in every way.

She dreams of skies where dreams take flight,

With stars as directors in the darkest night.

Her dreamscape's tapestry, she'll weave,

The hopes and visions her heart believes.

Her dream's theater, she takes the stage,

With talents and desires, she'll engage.

A life's presentation, a dazzling display,

In the spotlight of her dreams, she'll sway.

In a world of code and digital streams,

Women growth like brilliant sunbeams.

They pilot the tech terrain,

With skills and passion, they claim their domain.

Lines of code, like lyrics they write,

Making programs with pure delight.

With precision and logic, they create,

Software that shapes our modern fate.

In algorithms' involved embrace,

Women find patterns, leave a trace.

Their problem-solving minds astound,

In the virtual realms where they are found.

Innovation blooms when all voices chime,

And women enrich the tech paradigm.

Their diverse perspectives, a treasure trove,

In the software world, they truly rove.

In silicon minds and algorithms' song,

Women contribute, they truly belong.

The machine learns from lines of code,

Yet women's stories, in them, it's told.

Let us support, boost, and cheer,

For women's education, let's make it clear,

That Wisdom is their birth right, their due,

In teaching space and beyond, their ideas renew.

ज़िन्दगी की हकीकत | Lovepreet Kaur

विषय - ज़िन्दगी की हकीकत

हकीकत तो यह है कि वक्त बुरा हो या अच्छा अक्सर चलता ही रहता है,

इंसान गरीब हो या अमीर अक्सर हालातों का शिकार बनता ही रहता है ,

बुरे वक्त में तो लोग पत्थर को भी भगवान मान लेते है ,

और अच्छे वक्त में अपनी किस्मत लिखने वाले को ही नज़र-अन्दाज़ कर देते है ;

हकीकत तो यह है की अपने अपने नहीं रहते जब वो गैरो जैसा काम कर जाते है,

और गैर गैर नहीं रहते जब वो अपनो जैसा साथ दे जाते हैं ,

किसी भी रिश्ते की अहमियत दिल की तारो से होती है,

यू ही नहीं एक को दुख हो तो दूसरे के दर्द होती है;

हकीकत तो यह है की दुनिया बहुत रंगीन है पर जिंदगी किसी की भी रंगीन नहीं,

दुनिया में क़ाफ़ियों की सूरत खूबसूरत है पर सीरत किसी की भी खूबसूरत नहीं;

दुनिया हसीनों से भरी है पर दिल किसी का हसीन नहीं,

यहाँ वक़्त देखने के लिए सब घड़ी जरूर लगाते है पर एक-दूसरे के लिए किसी के पास वक्त नहीं;

हकीकत तो यह है कि अपनो को खोने का डर अक्सर रुला देता है ,

समुंदर जैसी आंखों से मोती-जैसे अथ्रु बहा देता है ,

अनमोल होते है प्यार के रिश्ते,

क्योंकि अपने होते हैं जैसे फरिश्ते ;

हकीकत तो यह है की अंजान लोग भी कभी कभी हमारा परिवार बन जाते है ,

क्योंकि अपने से जायदा वो हमें प्यार दे जाते है,

अज़ीब सी होती है अपनेपन की परिभाषा ,

रिश्ते खून से होते हैं और अपनापन वहाँ जहाँ हो अभिलाषा;

हकीकत तो यह है की कांच के टुकड़ों से इतनी चुबन नहीं होती,

जितनी अपनो के नुकीले लफ़्ज़ो से होती है ,

सच कहूँ तो मौत इतनी दर्दनाक नहीं होती,

जितनी दर्दनाक अपनो के पास हो के भी उनसे दूरी होती है ;

हकीकत तो यह है की ज़माना काफी बदल चुका है जनाब,

आज कल तो लोगो की नियत में भी मिलावत है ,

इंसान का अभिमान ही उसकी रुकवत है ,

इस ज़हान में सब सीरत छोड़ अपनी सूरत की करते सजावत है ;

हकीकत तो यह है की सच कहू तो इस दुनिया में लोग हुसन की दौलत पर मरते हैं,

सच्ची मोहब्बत कहाँ पाओगे,

सच्ची सीरत का जमाना ना रहा,

ढूँढते ढूँढते तुम दुनिया को अलविदा कह जाओगे;

हकीकत तो यह है की गैरो से हारो तो गुमान जलता है ,

अपनो से हारो तो सुकून मिलता है,

पर हार कर तो हमेशा कुछ सीखने को मिलता है,

और हमेशा जीत कर इंसान में खमंड भरता है ,

हार जीत की ये कहानी तो पूरी ज़िन्दगी चलती है,

उस भगवान के विचारो के आगे भला किसकी चलती है ,

जिंदगी की कहानी में अपना सिर्फ इतना-सा दस्तूर है ,

कोशिशों के दम पर जिंदगी को रंगीन बनाना जैसा अब अपना एक फितूर है ,

ना-ज़ाने इस्लिया शायद अब

"खुद से हारने लगे है रोज,

एक दिन सब से जीतने के लिए".............

Fatly Fiancé - Priya Dolma Tamang

In the shower, I speak

to my bloated bosom

and reprimand its refusal

to fit into the bridal blouse.

Tinkly metal scales

had embellished

the netty design, but

they would not apologize

for detaching without a cue.

I analyzed how

uncostly stitching was at fault.

But my mother

shot a million arrows

in the fragility of my

pampered lard

with a lethal look

that was invented

to massacre my mood,

electrocute my ego

and guillotine my greed.

She called me "FAT"

in a tone that could penalize.

I unclothed a squelched skin

from anguish of that

atrocious bodice. A snakebit

garment from hell fire

that bruised my body

and burnt our

mother-daughter bond.

But the mirror reflects

flattery on my flesh.

What a delight to grope

this ample of adipose!

The belly-bulge is how homely

our cushions should be.

Heaving hips

and thundering thighs

are undisguised veracity

of full-flavoured indulgences.

It was the puffiness of

swollen cheeks

that had sweetened

my lover's eye. And now

his last wish of romance

is to carry this

oversized butterball into

hefty honeymoon horizons

of a bouncy beach.

He must be kidding.

A Dark Corner | Jay Urmode

Visit a dark corner!

You will see a brother,

Who got yelled at by his teacher,

Got bullied by his fake friends in school,

They called him a creature,

Which is not very cool.

Visit a dark corner!

You will see a father,

Who got yelled at by his mean boss,

Then at home by his wife,

He knew his life was at a toss,

Could end it with a knife.

Visit a dark corner!

You will see a sister,

Who had a fight with her boyfriend,

It was nothing but a drama,

Even got trolled on social media because of her trend,

Everybody says it was karma.

Visit a dark corner!

You will see a mother,

Who gets beaten by her husband everyday,

Always pushed from stairs,

Next week comes her birthday,

But you know what, nobody cares.

Visit a dark corner!

You will find yourself,

Screaming for help,

Nobody can hear as they are deaf,

Instead they tell you not to chelp,

So that you keep everything to yourself.

ಸನಿಹ | Moksha Shasidhar

ಮುಂಗುರುಳ ಸರಿಸುತ ನಿನ್ನೆದುರು ಬಂದಾಗ

ನನ್ನ ಗಲ್ಲ ಚಿವುಟಿ ನೀ

ನಗೆಯ ನಕ್ಕಾಗ

ತುಟಿಯಂಚಲಿ ಮೂಡಿದಾ ನಾಚಿಕೆ.....

ಕೈ ಬೆರಳ ಹಿಡಿದು ನೀ ಕೊಟ್ಡ

ಕಿರುಕಾಣಿಕೆ

ಎದೆಬಡಿತದ ಏರಿಳಿತವೇ

ಈ ಚುಂಬನ....

ಮೊದಲ ಸ್ಪರ್ಶವೇ ಆ ಆಲಿಂಗನ.....

Peace - Rija E Mathew

Peace means a world of truth,

Where benevolence is the norm,

And every child is sheltered.

A world of courage and hope,

A world of sincerity and happiness,

A world of imagination and purity.

Peace is when we wake up with a glad heart,

Engage ourselves is higher pursuits,

And embody our deepest passions.

Peace is our ultimate state of existence,

The one we strive for,

The one we endeavor to merge.

Thorns and Petals | Deeksha Deka

I spent my years loving a poem that ended in ‘listen to the quiet and whisper, “thank you for stopping by”.’

Yet, you whirled in and out of my tempo in such haste,

It cluttered my thoughts only to form a feeble ‘Why?’.

A dreaded lock twists like an ivy in my chest

My haphazard thoughts, too stubborn to form words

Yet, I give it a try.

I have so many things to say that I don’t want to

I go number by the day, can’t figure out if I still want you.

Much so conceited that I’d rather lose you

Than lose you to someone else.

My sighs get louder by the hour

Time is taking a bit too much time, it’s unfair.

I have so many forbidden questions that won’t even make sense to raise.

Neither can I set them ablaze.

From ‘I have many plans except you’ to ‘I have no plans except you’,

Some plans failed

Some pattered down to unwanted puddles down the lane

Speaking of puddles, do you remember that unlit night in the rain?

Seven minutes of unleashed psyche played as we headed home…

It was intoxicatingly insane

I could recognize you anywhere in a crowd.

A pity I can’t escape of you that adorable laugh

Do you still laugh that sweet laugh?

You know, the part where the corners of your mouth curl up

And tint you a blush?

I guess you do

You probably do…

I hope you do.

Is this grief worth a vape?

No harm done, just an attempt to forget

Erase you just for one night, to relish in your false existence until the gray subsides.

Alas,

I’m too much of a coward to pretend being high when the low feels like rock bottom

We held on to a Koalemos past in trying times

And let go of the future like Pandora

Did we just not work enough, or were we never meant to work together?

I knew you and I loved you.

Yet it took us to stand strangers for me to write a memory of you

Maybe someday you’ll stumble upon it.

Maybe you’ll like it.

Maybe you're not even worth it…

‘R u?’

Archives - Kausal Sheilnandni

I've been the victim of your worst crimes

Fallin in love and then crossing the lines

The truth unfolds and I lose my hope

And I see heartache for the first time

You are in every page in my story

From headnotes till the ink gets blurry

And sit silently in your archives

So truthfully you told the lies

Pushed me through hell in the name of trying

Salt water that my eyes I can't hold

Still not giving you up cause it's like giving up on life

And I feel heartache for the first time

You are in every page in my story

From headnotes till the ink gets blurry

And sit silently in your archives

From dreams colours in pastel

To sitting in a haunted Castle

Filled with the memories of us

Never thought love hurts as much it does

Living in misery Is my new pastime

You're in my story in almost every line

And i silently sit in your archives

A bird in a beautiful cage | Spandana Nagalli

It had donations of nature,

But couldn’t feed its hungering desire.

It overlooked radiant sun rays,

Got charmed by a gold cage for its glaze.

But forgot where it had been made,

Should be eventually laid.

NO PAIN BEING AN WOMEN - Raji Srinivasan

NO PAIN BEING AN WOMEN

-RAJISRINIVASAN

She was on her periods -bleeding red

Being stronger with her cramps and pain

She was about to write her homework

Returning tired from her school to home

She was raped with her pain and bleeding

No wonder -she died .

She is first to wake up

But last to eat her dinner ,

She never complained about her workloads,

And also she was never understood ,

She had a abundant love for the family

But she was treated has a -"unpaid maid".

She was nude on streets -by groups of men's

Only because of her caste ?

We human bleed in the same colour

Why no changes in that ?

No women came in mind while doing that sin

Where is the humanity .?

ಇರಬೇಕು ನೀ- Pragalbh RS

ಇರಬೇಕು ನೀ ಇರಬೇಕು ನೀ ಎಲೆ ಮರುಳು ಪ್ರಾಣಿ

ಹುಚ್ಚೆದ್ದು ಪಥ ಹಿಡಿದು ಬಳಿ ಸುಳಿವು ತನಕ

ದಿನದಿನವು ಬೇಗೆದ್ದು ಒಗ್ಗದರ ಬಳಿ ಸರಿದು

ಬೇಡಿ ಓಲೈಸಿ ಅದನು

ಬೇಕದ್ದು ಬೇಡದ್ದು ಯಾವುದದು ಯಾವುದದು

ಎಂಬೆಲ್ಲ ತಿಳುವಳಿಕೆ ಬಿದ್ದು

ಏತಕ್ಕೆ ಮಾಡುತಿಹೆ ಏನನ್ನು ಗಳಿಸುತಿಹೆ

ಕೂಗಾಡಿ ಬಾಯಾರಿಕೆ

ಇಂತೆಷ್ಟು ಈ ಪಯಣ ಎಲ್ಲಿಹುದೊ ಕಡೆ ಸದನ

ಬೇಸತ್ತೆ ಅರಸಿ ಅದನ

ಮನಮೋಹಕ ಈ ಕನಕ ವೈಢೂರ್ಯ ಸರ ಪದಕ

ಬಚ್ಚಿಟ್ಟು ಪಡಲಾರೆ ಕಳೆದು ಮರುಕ

ಸೋತು ಸುಣ್ಣಾದೆನೋ ಏನೆಂಬೆ ಈ ಬದುಕು

ದಯೆತೋರಿ ಸಾಗುಹಾಕೆಂತೆಂಬ‌‌ ತನಕ

ಇರಬೇಕು ನೀ.....

ಪ್ರಗಲ್ಭ. ಆರ್. ಎಸ್.

Time in Lockdown | Aparbita Mitra Sarkar

And more and more and more.

It has been a week.

It has been neither

little scuffles in the corner,

Doodling petty, here and there

Of dearth minutely felt, under-skin only

It has been a week of pettiness,

Of giving your name to the pushing of the bed

Or getting the last speck,

It has been a week, barely.

Of bird-warble fault-finding,

Pecking incessantly at window putty or varnished door,

Open and close throughout the day,

Yes, it has been a week of woodpecker.

Seven days, six pills gone.

And here the time begins,

It has been a week of more and less.

A week of telling time in your gait,

And the side of the bed that speaks better.

From curtains to switchboards,

This is not distance.

But it surely has been a week, almost exact

But for a little spillage

It has been a week of blindness,

To your pond flutter and nest-building,

To stick-breaking and ravage,

“Go through, go through, go out”

Rising death counts and curves, endless.

Before and after this aspect of a thunderstorm-

It has been neither,

In anger, I painted

stick armed kid, dead in ditch, with dog hair in its mouth.

Alan,the sleeping boy- Krishna J Narayanan

(In memory of Alan Kurdi, the two-year-old child who tragically became a poignant victim of the Syrian refugee crisis)

The tender lips of the warm black ocean

Kissed my blue feet in a rocking motion,

My puny brine-soaked body

Rested on the banks of sands so shabby.

The mighty turbid salt waters

Smelt of grease and fire crackers,

Roaring fireworks clouded the sky,

Tearing homes, blinded by battle cry.

The wet groaning sea breeze in rage,

Howled a language familiar but strange,

The shrill wails of my brothers and sisters,

Running amok, being called the resistors.

That night was starry, calm, and bright,

But I winced in pain, hunger, and fright,

Mamma covered my dusty dry lips,

Dismayed by shadows in guns and clips.

"No little one, don't be alarmed,

The war will end and we'll be unharmed,"

Mamma nursed me to a good night's sleep,

To my last one, the one so deep.

Guns and missiles left me to smother,

With rivers of red and a crying mother,

Walls around rumbled and crumbled to graves,

But a gush of wind took me beyond the waves.

The tides tossed my stock-still body so silly,

Tired, I drowned down the ocean's belly,

It halted, and there was no more turmoil,

I woke up, it no more did smell like soil.

Fountains of honey, orchards of berries,

With no more thoughts of hunger and worries,

Cheer and joy-filled pastures and meadows,

No gates, no hate, no tears of widows.

Forever stays this guarantee, this glee,

For here we blend, there's nothing to mend,

Warheads decide my days no more,

For I am Alan, the sleeping boy, here on.

A love like never before- Vedashree A

Why did you water me again?

While they left my soul to wither,

Stepped on me every day with betrayal,

I wish I had been plucked out of the ground forever.

But why did you water me?

I still bear the fruits of happiness.

I tried to blossom, as I always do.

But they tried to bury me deep within,

With their hurtful words.

But why did you water me?

Gradually, I felt a change.

I noticed I had grown insecurity thorns,

Shutting me down completely as I quiver,

Then you came, my darling, as rain.

Now tell me, will you always be there?

To quench my thirst with your love like never before.

A Cuckoo Came Calling | Tejaswinee Barua

Holding broken pieces of me, I sat

on my balcony a summer arvo

pondering about love and life

wondering where had I gone wrong

and then a cuckoo came calling.

She made herself home, confident

sure of herself, unlike me.

and then she sang a song,

a melody that pierced my heart

She took me back in time

when my hopes were young

when my dreams were blinding

when loving myself came easy.

Back to the home she flew me

the one that still stands, just empty

where love meant mom’s food

where tears were wiped quickly

where kisses healed scrapped knees.

To the fields, where her kin sang to me

on cool evenings when I wove dreams.

She looked at me, holding my stare,

striking a final tune, as if urging me

to move ahead and still look back

to still dream, to still believe

and to find in myself, the little me,

who believed a kiss healed.

Do the dead smile though? | Oninthough G

When was it, the facade of mascara you wear everyday like a new dawn, became your actual face?

Do you remember?

When was it, the pitch-dark kohl you outline your lost eyes in, somewhat like an eclipse, fell weak to the cancerous dark circles?

Do you remember?

When was it, the love you've always had for blue, as if a mermaid afloat the oceans, could no more live up to the blunt bruises?

Do you remember?

When was it, the tooth fairies you'd desperately hoped to be true, as if living off Aesop, failed at being, to the flesh-digging fangs?

Do you remember?

When was it, the cliche fragrance of ruby red roses you'd pined for every adolescent afternoon, drowned in the stinking inebriated breath of bloody hands crawling inexplicable lengths and depths of your measured skin?

Do you remember?

You'd say, every time he wore a new face, a different one from the last one, to the piling heap of rotting flesh, you died a day more.

And I'd smile, a shade paler than the last one.

You'd say, every time he was inside you, living an entire existence elsewhere, reciting letters to an address unfamiliar, you died a day more.

And I'd smile, a shade paler than the last one.

You'd say, every time his lightning struck thunders down your wuthering spine and stormed entrails trembling from the rains of yesterday, you died a day more.

And I'd smile, a shade paler than the last one.

You'd say, every time his crippled crumbled vanity pinned the limbs of the questions living in your wrinkles, you died a day more.

And I'd smile, a shade paler than the last one.

You'd say, every time his intoxicated eyes and rogue desires crossed paths with your humble sobriety, ripping it as if cut open, you died a day more.

And I'd smile, a shade paler than the last one.

Who we thought were men, carry corpses of women like they were meat, as their brittle penises play hide and seek.

Who we thought were men, pluck bones of men like they were toothpicks, as the lynched vaginas and slaughtered breasts choke.

Do the dead smile though?

आई गेली... - Pradnya Belkhode

आई गेली

आभाळ फाटलं

प्रत्येक थेंबाचं मन दाटलं

आई गेली

लांबल्या सावल्या

उदास उदासशा रेंगाळत राहिल्या

आई गेली

धूसर वाटा

उरात सतत सलणारा काटा

आई गेली

गेली रया

आटली सायीसारखी माया

आई गेली

खूप सोसून

काळजाचा तुकडाच कापून घेऊन

आई गेली

विरला वर्ख

गिळला दाहक दु:खाचा अर्क

आई गेली

विश्व शांत

मनात मात्र जन्मकळांचा आकांत

भाजला घसा

जळलं मन

पेशीपेशीतून आक्रंदन

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इंसाफ़ | Tanishka Maurya

इंसाफ़ जैसा शायद ही कोई और शब्द होगा

ऐसा लफ़्ज़ जो दावे बहुत करता है

मगर कुछ अमल करने के क़ाबिल ही नहीं

हज़ारों “हरिजन” की चीखें हैं

जो अपने होने का ग़म मना रही हैं

उनके हाथों की लकीरों में ही

गुनहगार खोज लिया समाज ने

रोज़ सौ सौ लड़कियाँ

इस देश के मर्दों से लड़ती हैं

कुछ ज़मीन के नीचे दफ़्न हैं

और कुछ उसके ऊपर

मोहब्बत पर शेर हर शाम सुनने वाले भी

दो लड़कों का प्यार क़ुबूल नहीं करते

हिंदू अगर मुसलमान को चुन ले

तो दोनो क़ौम लड़ मरते हैं

बच्चों को बाज़ार में खड़ा करके

एक दरिंदा भी अपना घर चला लेता है

सत्ता और पैसा सर पर जिसके सवार है

वो अपना ज़मीर बेच कर

ग़रीबों से दो वक्त की रोटी तक छीन लेता है

यूँ तो दास्तानें जुल्म भरी बहुत हैं

कितनी कहानियाँ सुन पाओगे?

किस किस का बोझ उठा पाओगे?

नाइंसाफ़ी के सिवा इस देश की सड़कों में दिखता ही क्या है? कौन सा ऐसा क़ानून है जो इंसाफ़ ला सका है?

जो कब्र में लिपटे मुर्दे को इंसान बना सका है

जो एक नारी को सम्मान के साथ सुकून दिला सका है

जो किसी बच्चे का बचपन उसे वापस दे सका है

असल इंसाफ़ तो वो है

जो हमें वहीं खड़ा करदे

जहां ये किससे हमारे ना थे

मगर इन चंद कहानियों में से

कौन ऐसा है जो अपनी सच्चाई बदल सके?

क्या क़र्ज़ है एक बेरहम की बेरहमी का जो वो खुद चुका सके?

क्या सज़ा है जो ज़िंदगी और मौत को तौल सके?

ये कहानियाँ हैं जुर्म की

इन लबों पर सिली हुई

ज़हन में बैठी हुई

यूँ हमारी रगों में सिमटी हुई

की इनका वजूद हम चाह कर भी मिटा ना सकें

एक बार जो कोई इनका हिस्सा बन जाए

उसके घाव पर क़ानून तो बस मरहम है

एक बार जो कोई ज़ुल्म सह ले

उसे हम तो क्या

ख़ुदा भी इंसाफ़ नहीं दिला सकता है

Pretty (Dear Darling Daughter)- Mahieka Gidwani

PRETTY (Dear Darling Daughter)

My dear, darling daughter,

I wish that I had fought her

On what exactly true beauty is

That woman who thought a mother’s duty is

To criticize, to condemn, to shame

That we are the players in life’s cruel game

And the only way to win it

To be first at any given minute

Is by looking pretty.

When I was a child, like you, my daughter,

I was an innocent girl who thought her…

her nose was the prettiest thing in this world

I was just a little girl

People said to me, “She looks just like mother!”

Eyes like hers, smile like hers, and a nose like every other

feature that matched hers.

It was music to my ears.

And then one day I saw her look in the mirror, my love

Light falling from above on her prominent frown

Noticing me, she turned around,

She said – “I wish my nose didn’t look like that

It makes my face look fat.”

The very nose I had inherited from her

Had never made me feel so unsure

Of whether or not I was pretty.

And the word ‘fat’ was then added, with a shot of pain

Into my young, girlish, gullible brain.

I was eating at McDonald’s, but I wasn’t loving it

All I thought of was the food, how I was shoving it

Down, down, down my eager tummy

And when the guilt made me tell mummy

She said, “Good. Feel the shame.

You really are to blame.

Now chal, wipe off that pout.

And as for the food, go vomit it out.”

And I’d never felt less pretty.

And that was just the start

Yet to come is the sadder part

There was this boy I liked, my darling

So very handsome, so very charming

I didn’t know how much I liked curly hair until I saw it on him!

But there was this girl, my love, this girl who wasn’t me

She was far prettier than I could ever hope to be

And he chose her.

In hindsight, it was because of her heart

But I thought it was because of the art

that was her body, her face

It made me feel like a disgrace

To the capable hands by which I was made

I was in a dark space, and there I stayed.

That’s when the worst began

I starved myself, made a rigorous exercise plan

“Good food – want to try it?”

“Can’t, I’m on a diet.”

“You can cheat for just one day.”

“No, you know what they say –

A moment on the lips, forever on the hips.”

No carbs, no fats, limited protein

Most important is that I look lean

And the advice from strangers’ Instagram reels –

Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.

Skincare routines, healthy salads

All contributed to the toxic ballad

That ‘pretty’ and I shared

It scared me, how much I cared.

I told my mum, and all she said

Was ‘You’re not trying hard enough to look pretty’.

Hide imperfections behind foundation

And you’ll get wrinkles if you show frustration

And learn the style of dressing that flatters you best

And cucumber peels on your eyes when you rest

And turmeric on dark elbows and knees

And you won’t look good in jeans like these

And trim your eyebrows, you’re very hairy

And do something with that hair, you’re looking scary

And your lips are looking way too thin

And don’t open too wide when you grin

And get a membership at the gym

And your thighs are fat, make them slim

And get those love handles off your waist

And apply some sort of beauty paste

And if you’re hungry, water is all you’ll drink

And before a second helping, make sure to rethink

And oh, and you’ll need Botox when you grow

And… And fillers, too, they’ll help you glow

And closely follow each and every trend

And try to look better than that one friend.

And…

WHEN WILL IT END???

“It will not,” my lovely mother said,

“so put those fantasies to bed,

And focus instead on looking pretty.”

My love, great damage had been done

And back then, I don’t think the game was ever won

Because, according to her, the condition was to look pretty

When all I did was feel shitty.

But now things have changed.

Something beautiful was arranged:

Your birth. When I held you in my arms

I was taken in by your charms

And I thought – how could anyone see fault

In something that is so pretty by default?

And I saw on your face my own nose

And it gave me an lifetime dose

Of happiness unlike what I’d known till then

And this revelation of mine healed me, my little gem.

And I’d never felt more pretty

It takes time, it does, but you come to realise

That the word ‘pretty’ is only defined by your eyes

Based on what they see in your heart.

My love, sometimes, I do wish I could restart

I wish I could live life the way I did not at first

I hope that you never have to feel this cursed.

My love, you are my world, a child is a parent’s world

And the only advice that I will ever give my little girl

Is – love yourself. It’s cliché, and it is lame,

But all the same –

Love yourself – and I hope it will be easy…

Because I will never do to you what she did to me.

A TOUCH NEVER FELT - Megha Nair

Each day I thought of thee...

For those mesmerizing eyes had captured me.

Veins transparent in his hands so hard,

It looks as though they were a piece of art.

He sounded like the tingling of waves,

One may imagine he swallowed "the lord of art's" grace..

So much love did I have for him,

But never did I mention for the fear of losing him.

Of all my friends the closest was he,

But did he ever have spare time for me??

He has crushes on all the girls in our class,

But fall in true love I had never imagined alas!!!

One fine day the most unexpected happened,

On seeing this girl he felt his soul threatened.

Now love in his life life had an important part,

As a friend i had to protect his little heart.

Marriage & engagement went by a fast swirl,

And each section I felt the ground under my feet pull..

Happiness & joy awaited the family,

For they awaited the coming of their baby.

The child a colour of peaches and cream,

Maybe the cutest child one may ever dream.

Once she slipped a little off the stairs,

I noticed her father's rise of hairs...

I caught her for as little was she,

And in regard he once hugged me..

Agast as I was for the moment had come,

I heard the beat of my heart through my eardrum.

FOr it was the touch I had never felt,

FOr it was the thirst that was never quenched..

FOR THIS WAS THE DREAM THAT ONCE WAS TOSSED APART..

FOR THIS WAS THE DREAM THAT ONCE WAS TOSSED APART...

Fast rushed in the memories while i silently stand and groan..

For they are the memories of a begone home..