Get me a thinnest stick,
So, I’d keep breaking my crutches
to show you I can be helpless.
I have set up a wrong example
by holding myself pretty well.
That you got to use your favourite
phrase again, slapping me right where it hurts,
“You are strong! You will handle!”
Normalise other people’s choices and opinions. The world is already suffering because of non-acceptability.
When it’s your birthday and Diwali in a foreign land and you try to make the most of it
I cackled at 6:40 am on a Friday morning recalling your months’ old joke. When we laughed at everything on all the grounds we set our foot in. You took me to the younger days and non-disastrous moments in your faithful two-wheeler, twirling like in a Ferris wheel.
It was so hard to piece it all together, so difficult to admit. The breeze was chilly and my heart had taken a winter coat. It could see no one. Then your ‘Hi’ entered. The days I didn’t confess to myself were like disappointments sitting in a coffee cup trying to interpret your language with every sip I took. Till the cup was empty, and my heart wasn’t.
It’s unpopular how eyes can measure up some logical distance between two people. I remember the time when the corner of my eye campaigned and captured how much of remoteness I have to consider to avoid you. But as always, the calculations failed. I couldn’t shun you off anymore.
You are so close now that I don’t see you in my dreams anymore. You are here, right now. While I paint the house, while I walk in snowy hills, in tangled wires of my room, in ceruleans skies, in nightmares, in storms, in gardens, in last months of the year. I am not afraid anymore. I am fascinated. A kiss in my veins.
For everyone else, you are an exotic strawberry. For me, you taste like mangoes. The king of our land. And you weigh heavy on me. In a good, different way. Like your eyes on me or your tongue on my navel. My appetite is a royal highness now. Always in need to be served. I have come out of my greenhouse. My heart is untamable now and it wants to run wild. With you.
So darling, take me away. Again!
My heart’s getting cold.
Take me away where the breeze doesn’t kill me.
©kanikachugh
Would I still be biased
If October wasn’t my month?
I don’t know but I tend
to open up at fall.
October is like a
long Friday evening,
a free therapist,
manifestation of a
dreamy fictional character.
It’s uncruel, satin;
the winter’s sun.
©kanikachugh
I refuse to believe that everyone
is not suffering. Suffering is (almost)
the only thing that makes you wanna
live more, strive for a better life,
to find an escape. A wonderland
only to return to realities at night.
I don’t believe people are as carefree
and untroubled as much they show
in their personal or social lives.
They’re merely passing the baton of suffering
from today to their tomorrow’s self.
And it’s going to be draining, exhausting, exciting, scary, wonderful, bitter and it will feel you leaving your castle behind to build a single room on your own terms and finances. The fear, the pain along with the freedom and eagerness to explore world will overwhelm you. You’d be free but you’d also be responsible for your house, cooking, cleaning, trash, dishes, maintenance, vehicles. It ain’t going to be easy. No one would be waiting at home. At times, you won’t be able to talk to your family much because of busy schedules or time zones or mood. It will take a heavier toll on you when you’d fall sick. You’ll miss home more than anything. All the plates of cut fruits that used to enter your room without a word will pile into uncooked meals which you gotta prepare yourself. You’ll become a person of lists, reminders if you aren’t already. You’ll become a cook over the phone while talking to your mom. You’ll think like her when buying groceries. You’d definitely do things more freely but you’d experience yourself becoming more and more responsible. It’s not going to be easy but it will be worth it.
©kanikachugh
I feel okay many a time but safe, rarely.
There are extremely few occasions where my body, mind, thoughts, or heart feel safe. That place is as holy as a shrine for me. My ever-so wandering mind takes away the pleasures so damn easily from me and insults are the first thing it recognizes as something own. Sanity falls through the air and suddenly the person, place, or the vibe ain’t the safe space anymore for me. It’s like feeling safe is so limited.