And I made you my muse
without any expectations
without being loved back
‘Cause you lessened the empty space in my heart
©️kanikachugh
Author: Kanika
To rebel is to love…
The diary doesn’t hold secrets
It holds my rebel.
It holds my definition for you
as my favourite fruit,
as a platonic cat,
as any enamoured materialistic thing
with non-existent adjectives
making grammatical errors
along the way
misusing punctuation
but never you.
You my age of twenty-one,
You my little dreams,
You my 10 rules of winning in life,
You my sky and analysis of it.
I ain’t afraid if anyone
gets hold of my diary.
Cause it won’t make sense at all.
It doesn’t have to
Like my love for you.
No one can understand
but me.
©️kanikachugh
World is a non-genre movie.
World is a non-genre movie.
Fall in love the one moment
dip your hands in death in other.
Mourn a loss, live in shadow
then get interrupted by a friend
snowballing hope through shoulder.
Merry & high sneaks
in-between the world-ending.
Dark and anger at the corner
of the street, hiding
Fights and heartbreaks
are blockbusters choice
Cigarettes and ashes
usually the way to die.
The world isn’t a fight
between good and evil.
it’s the misinformation of
how we spend our time
amidst chaos and dry living.
Sky, prism, waltz, balloons
Unread letters, burned bridges, 3’o clocks.
They just spin
And spin us all around
till we fall
till we are grieved
with a genre leaked
of a house we lived in once
of the swing no one remembers.
©kanikachugh
How the crushed flowers look!
‘There are too many flowers,
not enough vases.
Get some more!
The fairy lights are
supposed to form a crescent
like a Moon. Fix it.
Lanterns add a mystic
brightness to the windows.
Hang those at a perfect angle.
Hand out the pamphlets!
A special someone is coming.
Prepare everything.’
That’s how I ready my heart
when they are about to enter
for someone to feel at home.
That’s another story
It soon becomes a haunted house
of web, and, old wood and no light
When I hear them say
‘Ah! You again.’
©kanikachugh
A mandatory birthday post? 😉
I never expected to have grays at thirty-four,
some answers though.
Never expected the flush of emotions towering after I hit thirty
a bit of fire to die out though.
I wonder which ancestry had been
so violent in wants
that I inherited their fire without
properly knowing their soul, their childhood.
A brute force
some forces that I don’t wish to pursue.
It doesn’t let you sleep.
The past year had been
about crushing and cushioning
about scattering the pieces of mine away
and then finding a new brand of glue
about fighting off depression again
and dancing on dull hours of chores.
I have rested
a lot
I have pushed myself through
a lot
Tried to numb my brain
but paced my feet.
Not everything is a realisation
sometimes it’s siting on your couch,
back-dreaming on the days you were happy,
you were happy with the people you love
And being grateful that you got to live those.
Today might be hard
but you also got some easy ones
You might be waist-down in water
but eyes can see sky
and mouth can still breathe
It’s still fucking amazing.
I have, certainly, fallen for me
in a different way than I ever imagined.
On the days, when I couldn’t get up
on the days, I told myself to take it easy
when I was soft with me
when I controlled my anxiety.
Another goal reached without knowing
Afterwards,
being so unbelievably unstoppable
that balanced out my globe of tasks.
Learning is such a devil
And I love it.
Every year, there is a different
element of learning.
You gotta learn how to take care of a rose
to keep your pockets warm
You gotta learn which acid not to intake to prevent yourself from killing
I feel better than I was in my twenties
not that I resent my errs
But that girl was learning too.
And today’s girl is much more (also learning)
a more spiky, armoury reflection of her mother
a gullible, a clever teacup of sweetness
standing at the crossroad of youth and experience
She’s a Sugar mommy 😉
©kanikachugh
I wonder what it’s like to be that girl.
I wonder what it’s like to be that girl. That girl— with white&black sneakers, with an over-sized hoodie and head sheltered from the rain, standing alone in a corner, engrossed in a phone conversation, looking all helpless, a tad bit drenched, petite, all alone, someone you’d really wanna protect even when you don’t know her. I wonder how would it feel to be in her shoes.
Big eyes, soft lips, worrisome face, partially hidden by the hood yet fragility oozing out effortlessly. I sit by the bus window, slowly passing by this slender figure, lost in her world, oblivious to how the world is perceiving her, more so, even be ready to go on a war to protect her.
She doesn’t have to try, doesn’t have to cry out loud, probably never had any crazy-pants moments to make people realize how hurt or how much in need she is.
People would run to send her troubles away into the thin air. Surprisingly, even me.
I wonder how relieved the feeling is to know you can let your guard down, show the world how vulnerable you are, admit helplessness through eyes and not be afraid of people judging you for showcasing a naked soul. I wonder how does it feel to be this free from your own entanglements of “I’ll manage”. Is this ‘being strong’ mean ?
What if I had been wrong all along? What if I learned the wrong meaning of ‘strength’?
©kanikachugh
The October Realisation
The realisation, when it hits you that you don’t really like someone when you thought you sincerely liked someone. It was just because you were either bored or filling in some time you made by not following your passion. All because you have nothing grand to obsess over at the moment. It’s unacceptable to you. Unless something consumes you in entirety. Because everything is supposed to be grand for you. Love, sunsets, golgappe, train journeys, friends trip, local festivities or movies. You never learned how to survive on minimal/mediocre love. Coz if you learned that you’d lose that grand part of you that defines you. So, you start spiralling, delusions after delusions, madness after madness, tea after tea, beer after beer, October after October until you hit, not a rock bottom but a side button that sings an alarm of your desires in your brain without permission and makes you face how much ‘intensity of substance’ is there in you. Of everything. That’s why you put your heart into anything you do coz you don’t know the other way round. Never learned. Never wanna learn. And you live with that realisation coz you can’t do anything else. World cancels extremities but accepts the mediocre/manipulators yet you rebel to be the one extreme in carrying love.
©️kanikachugh
A love like this <3
See! You never knew. Your beauty could never be captured through undeserving hands.
©️kanikachugh
P.C – Pinterest
R.I.P
Well, I am introducing ‘Respect in Process’ idea to an already known forced-peace terminology. How about paying respect onto their faces instead of standing above their graves and garnishing it with your good words?
So, when the ghost of the dead, hanging upside down, is staring deadly at them while they sugar-tape the words, it dies another death in horror, thinking “MF why couldn’t you say these good words when I was alive?”
Tell me how hard it is to respect someone? How hard it is to treat them with fairness and consideration, or, listening to them, respecting different options, recognising and appreciating their contribution, upholding ethical standards & moral values, and not just a superficial gesture.
Is that hard? Yeah, I see it now. It isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. So they choose to say “rest in peace” instead of continuing with “respect in process” because it’s a never ending cycle and they suck at putting efforts.
©kanikachugh