The Moon and Me

I sat at my window tonight, a soft breeze in my hair and the moonlight on my face.

I stared at the moon, contemplating my life and it stared back. But tonight it wasn’t just the moon, it was a poet, a storyteller. A person.

She didn’t just illuminate the night sky, she whispered to me. And I whispered back.

She shared stories of distant stars and galaxies. She sung songs of the valor and exploits of space pirates. She recited ballads of the past, all the people she had seen, all the beauty she had beheld. She told me about the various blemishes on her face and I shared my flaws and insecurities. She spoke of the silence and I talked about being alone amidst all the noise.

We talked for hours and hours. She cried about her lifelong longing for a companion.

She just wanted someone to listen and I just wanted someone to understand.

And we sat there, stories at our lips, talking of our fears and fantasies, until it was morning and she had to go.

I stared at the sky, long after she had gone, replaying the conversation in my head.

And finally, when I  moved away from the window, moonlight was shining through the cracks in my heart.

Varsha

वर्षा (Varsha) [n.] : rainfall, rain, volley, shatter

The first drop falls on my nose, causing my mouth to open in an involuntary grin. Slowly the road around me becomes a mosaic of wet and dry cemented ground.

The trees swing around, dancing and singing in an ancient tongue. Children run straight into the rain, giggling and laughing, filling the atmosphere with their contagious happiness. A few windows open in the nearby houses, letting the sweet summer rain in.

The clouds rumble overhead, laughing at the childlike delight on every face. Some women rush out to gather the clothes hung out to dry, swearing at the children to move out of their way.

A few flowers fall off the trees and rush to the ground, as if to kiss the exact spot where the raindrops land.
The wind blows at my face and dances through my hair, wanting to share the stories of distant places. It carries the ambrosial aroma of rain with it, that fills my lungs and fixes the cracks in my soul. The leaves dance wildly, in bliss and euphoria.

The soft melody of the shower falling on the ground, the laughter of the clouds, and the songs of the trees pull an invisible string in my heart. I close my eyes and let the music fill me up and heal all the wounds inside me.

The children jump puddles and make paper boats. The adults gaze at the sky lovingly and comment on the pleasant change in weather.

And me?

I just stand there, eyes closed, arms wide open and face the grey heavens.

I listen.

I listen for the soft drops of rain as it kisses the ground.

I listen for the distant tweet of a bird rushing to its home.

I listen for the sound of wind chimes as wind rushes past them.

I listen for the breeze as it whispers secrets into my ears.
I listen for the sound of happiness. And my soul is washed through.

I am new again.

You Are Enough

Have you ever seen snowflakes or looked inside a kaleidoscope? Are two snowflakes or two patterns in a kaleidoscope ever same? No, never. They are all different. And yet they are all beautiful and breath taking. Honey, we are all snowflakes. We are all broken mirrors inside a kaleidoscope. We are unique. We are beautiful the way we are, just the way we are. Would a kaleidoscope be as much fun if all the patterns were the same? I don’t think so. And this is true for people as well. The beauty fundamentally lies in the fact that we are all extraordinarily distinct as unique individuals.

Stand in front of a mirror, and for once don’t scrutinize yourself. Don’t think about how you “need” thinner legs, or a flatter stomach or fairer skin or a prettier face or longer hair. You don’t need all these things. You need a better self image and a change in perspective. You need to know that you are beautiful and it’s okay to shout it out to the world. It’s amazing to love your body regardless of the size of clothes you wear. It’s wonderful to talk about the things you are passionate about without curbing your emotions to keep others comfortable.

You are not too fat, or too skinny, or too short, or too tall, or too dark skinned. Your nose isn’t too long, or too small for that matter. You are not your weight, or your skin colour or your body structure. You are the books you cry over, the songs you sing out loud, the sound of your laughter, the tears that you shed, the way you talk about things you love, the things you believe in, the people you love, the conversations you engage in and so much more than just the way you look.

Look down at your body and for once don’t focus on its shape and size. This body has been your home for your entire life. Think of all the places it has taken you to; all the wonderful memories you made, thanks to it. Think of how it fought for you when you were down with a cold or a broken heart or maybe broken bones. It doesn’t care how other people see it. It doesn’t care how much you hate it. It still loves you and will always be there for you, when those judgemental people are nowhere to be seen.

So just remember this, you are enough. You. Are. Enough. Paint it in your walls. Sing it to the world. Scream it out loud. Chant it out like a mantra. Do whatever it takes to embed this into your minds: You are enough.

You always have been and you’ll always be.

It’s time to stop trying to make everybody else love you and start loving yourself.

#selflove #YOU_ARE_ENOUGH.

Monsters

Don’t be afraid of the dark, child
It does not harbour monsters.
There are no spirits lurking in the shadows,
No ghosts beneath your bed.
You will find no monsters there;
The monsters roam in the daylight.
They laugh with you, they sing with you,
They even say they love you.
They look nothing like the monsters you heard about,
They are so gentle and sweet.
You believe their sincere smiles
You befriend those monsters, child.
But you don’t see it coming,
You are taken by surprise
The knife comes leisurely out and finds your heart.
Darling, sleep well for your bed is safe,
No demon will grab your foot from below.
Oh, but beware the people you meet,
They’ll tell you they wish well
And smilingly push you down the cliff.
Beware them, O child,
Beware the monsters who walk beside you.

Believe

Fight, my dear;
For you have fire inside you,
The fire that once burned in a star.

Heads up, my dear;
For you have strenght inside you,
The strength of the mountain standing tall.

Fly, my dear;
For you have dreams inside you
Your dreams – the wind beneath your wings.

Laugh, my dear;
For you have mirth inside you,
The mirth of a river skipping towards the sea.

Dance, my dear;
For you have rhythm inside you
The rhythm of the rain falling on the ground.

Believe, my dear;
For you have light inside you
The light of the stars that burned up to become you.

Ocean

It’s hilarious, I think

The way you claim to know me

I am an ocean fathoms deep,

You only dipped your toes in my water.

You have watched my surfacefrom the shore,

And once in a while, a gust of wind,

Might have brought my droplets to you.

You know me from my surfaces,

You know not the roaring depths.

In the deep waters of my soul will you find me,

You’ll discover me then, my dear

Drop by drop, as you plunge deeper

But would you have the strength?

The strength to hold your breath that long?

My waters are not hostile,

You’re welcome to witness the calm and the storm.

But do you dare, dear?

Do you dare to dive?

Library

My soul is a library that screams out me.
Within its caring, loving shelves,
It holds the story that is me.
There are books old and yellowing;
There are books unwritten, waiting to be opened;
There are books I read over for old time’s sake.
These hold stories unspoken,
The things they make me.
Would you read through me
Or would you leave the pages half read?
Oh, but hold these books with tender hands,
For they hold treasures within;
These books hold memories,
They hold people in them.
Some people are simply sentences,
Others own complete books.
They all make me, shape me;
Their inky marks adore my soul.
Would you roam into the darkest corners of my library?
Would you blow the dust off and read?
I sure am writing you down, my friend,
But my dear, would you write down me?

WORLD –A GLOBAL VILLAGE  

 

The internet has brought us close,

It’s just a click away; the entire world’s grandiose.

The world is now a global village,

We’re ready to provide each other with anchorage.

It’s no longer us and them,

We are one; we are the same.

On this tiny speck of dust suspended in sunlight,

No help will ever come from outside,

To save us from ourselves.

This is our own battle; so arm yourselves,

With love, empathy and kindness

Come, let’s fill our lives with warmth and tenderness.

This world is your family,

So be as affectionate as you could be,

We’re all here together, can’t you see?

The one thing that I wish to invent…

tardis_leaving_by_guile93-d5rb6wxThe one thing that I wish to invent is a machine like the T.A.R.D.I.S. which can instantly teleport us to all of time and space, anywhere and everywhere we might want to go.

The universe is big.  It’s vast and complicated, and ridiculous.

And believe me, somewhere, something INCREDIBLE is waiting to be known.

We spend all our lives living in one corner in one country, in one continent in one planet that is a corner of a galaxy that is a corner of a universe that is forever growing and shrinking and creating and destroying and never remaining the same for a single millisecond. And this is so much, SO MUCH to see.

And I truly believe that we’d be collectively less stupid as a species if we all travelled more.

And just imagine if we could also travel through time as well? We could witness all the great events that ever occurred in the history of the Earth! We could even go and witness the Big Bang itself; see how it all began; how we came into existence and solve the mysteries regarding the birth of our Universe. Oh, wouldn’t it be great!

So I wish to invent something like the TARDIS and travel away to my heart’s content! ❤ ❤

THE JOYS AND SORROWS OF CHILDHOOD

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It is well said that childhood is the golden period of a person’s life. It is the most beautiful of all life seasons. It is a time that once gone never comes back. Thus we should live this time of fun and laughter to the full extent.

I feel that we children have more of joys than sorrows. Childhood is, after all, about finding joy in every little moment. And this is, in my opinion, the greatest opinion of childhood : Finding a smile in every tear. Another joy of childhood is that we are carefree and don’t have any responsibility of earning money and running the household. Children are also honest and innocent. Once they become adults, they turn into strange creatures. Grown-ups are quirky and have secrets. Childhood is about living every moment to the fullest extent and laughing off the problems of life.

Children are open-minded and are able to make friends with everyone easily. adults grow to become more conserved and less social. Childhood is surrounded with love and protection. This is a joy but can converted into sorrow for some. Some children feel that they have been locked up in some sort of a cage and that their uniqueness and personality has been taken away. This happens when the parents and guardians become over-protective. Children are free birds but when they are forced to follow strict rules they feel their childhood to be full of sorrows. They look up to the independent life of adults and become eager to grow up and lead an independent life. In this, they completely ignore their childhood… and when they realize this it is already too late.

I don’t find any great sorrow in childhood. Dependence is probably the only sorrow. But what I dislike is that children, in their eagerness to grow up, forget to enjoy childhood. Their eagerness  will not make them grow up faster but only make them miss the most treasured of life’s times. I would like to tell them that ‘Childhood is a journey not a race.

Because Pablo Neruda said, “Everything is ceremony in the wild garden of childhood” , so let’s celebrate chilhood!!!

LOVE. LIVE. LAUGH.