Stillness

 It's like holding one's breath 

With no plan in sight, to exhale

I step out of my body

For a little fresh air

But my nostrils cannot smell the fragrance.

Happiness is good

Even if you are not the happy one

I attempt a smile

My lips curve up, I flash my teeth 

But my eyes don't share the mood 

My body is limp in the water

I feel weightless, relaxed

I clock my workout, sip from my bottle

Time to go, I'm feeling light

But the water weighs me down, as I heave myself out

 My breath is short, sharp and laboured

Nothing moves around me

I shake the leg that fell asleep

And try to silence the ringing in my ears

But stillness continues to shake, uncontrollably.

I think I hear the birds chirping

There is urgency in their call

I instinctively reach out to help

They cannot see me, I'm invisible

But I can feel the wind on my face, I'm still alive, I think.

Gossip - not so idle

 When you wrong me

So Nonchalantly
Without a break in your step
And yet somehow I have no right to feel bad

When you judge my way of life
So Mercilessly
Without a thought about your own
And yet somehow I have no right to call you out

When you throw mine under the bus
So Callously
Without a thought about how I always protect yours
And yet somehow I have no right to demand respect

When you manipulate the narrative
So selfishly
Without a thought about the damage it would do
And yet somehow I have no right to even expect the truth

When you become the victim
So effortlessly
Without a thought about how you started the fire in the first place
And yet somehow I have no right to even raise an eyebrow

When you don't care enough
So evidently
Without a thought about how much you have sponged my affection over time
And yet somehow I have no right, even to be silent

When you ensure that all relations snap
So conveniently
Because  if I speak up your beautiful bubble will burst
And yet somehow you feel confident that I won't.

You know me better than I ever did you.
I was your sounding board
I was always on your side
Your willing servant, your armour when it suited you

And that was all I was
It was my fault to think
That in all that I did, so happily
I actually mattered.

Why does this affect me so much?

Silence

Respond, don't react, I thought

When words can no longer

be trusted and are 

so easily twisted

Silence would be the dignified response

I thought

But silence can also be misconstrued

Apparently

I might as well have expressed

My angst, my sorrow.

Is respect due, only to those older

Are the feelings of the younger

Insignificant, irrelevant and easily dismissable

Maybe I should have reacted 

But there are so many delicate relationships

Hanging in the balance

I take a step back each time

Secrets are exhausting

Frankness has repercussions

Especially when habits have been formed

Over years and years of misinformation

Should I break out of the loop

Am I willing to pay the price?

Am I the only one? 

So much noise inside my head

This silence is getting deafening

I care too much to not care.

Do you?

Being Human. 27 Sept' 24

 If you look towards others to decide whether you like someone or not.

If you form opinions based on which way the wind blows

If you are too scared to speak the truth.

If, despite knowing the truth, you perpetrate a lie to impress others

If you are ungrateful and turn your back on those who have helped you.

If you bite the hand that fed you

And lick the hand that slaps you

If you do not have the courage to call a spade a spade

And would happily call it a diamond if you thought it would benefit you

If you keep changing the rules of the game in the middle of the game to suit the players who feed your ego

If your ego blinds your sense of justice
and drives you towards injustice

If power corrupts you to the point where only your interests matter

If you have stopped learning because you think there is no better teacher than you

If your thoughts are true but your words lie

If your words hurt those who love you most

If your actions are driven by your selfish motives

If the habits that you find hard to break
Are the ones that damage others

If you blame others for your situation

And you can only feel and play the victim

If you find it hard to smile at someone who has nothing to give to you.

If you want what you have never given
If you give what you never wanted

If you bully the one who is already timid
And save face with others like you

If you think that the only way to make yourself look good
Is if you succeed in making others look bad

And if you still want to be called a good human being..

Then read everything above again
And don't be that person, my child.

If you are not sure what to do
Start by being sure what not to do.
And that would be your first step towards being human.

No more

 NO more

Where the mind is without fear
Of shadows lurking in wait
Of betrayal and vitriolic violation
Of evil eyes judging, scorning, feasting
Undeterred, unfettered, unleashed.

Where the mind is without fear
Of being stripped, of every shred
Of dignity and worth
Of those scheming, plotting, debasing
Unchecked, emboldened, enabled

Where the body does not shrivel
On the touch of predators
Under the gaze of lustful vultures
Over repeated attacks on reputation
Brazen, bereft of shame, reprobate

Where the soul is untouched
By pain, suffering and hurt
By passive bystanders and such
By brickbats and blemishes
Where peace prevails regardless

Where she can say No as a matter of right
Where he can take No as a matter of fact
Where she can freely express her opinion
Where he can respect her right to do so
And both can bring their best forward

So where the mind is without fear
And the head is held high
In that haven of safety, let us women survive
In that heaven of freedom, may us women thrive

No more fear. No more.

Migrant 17 May 2020

Migrant

The word itself is wrong

It screams

'You do not belong here

We owe you nothing

Go back'

What is a migrant anyway

Since when

did state borders define domicile

For daily wage workers

Or do you plan govt jobs

For their future

A paradox. 12 June2017

When the rain cries
And the sun smiles,
Colours break free.
And I step out
In quest of the
Pot of gold
Does it exist?
A paradox