Jammed. Unbudgeable like the old, rotten wooden window frame that’s stuck after a heavy rainstorm.

Memories are easy to make. They often choose you but are tough to shake off. They won’t fade until they have taken every single ounce of your soul.

Broken. Like shattered glass.

Splinters strewn. Uncountable, out to draw blood.

Unhinged mind. Fragmented souvenirs. Every time you touch upon them or try to gather it all, they end up searing through your soul.

Musty. Damp, dank smell of stagnancy.

Never moving, rigid and permeating.

When the mind is stuck, the rut seems too deep. The walls close in, slowly but unfalteringly.

I have been stuck in a rut for a while now, three years to precise. Maybe longer. Each time, I feel I am drowning, I have quit whatever I am doing but stayed put. I did not think of addressing the elephant in the room. Until recently. At least, I am aware of my affliction now. I am still not doing anything about it but the walls aren’t closing in. It’s a long road ahead.

Picture courtesy: lifegiva.com

Letter Unpenned

Don’t mind me please.

I wrote a letter to you many times over.

A long one.

It held my feelings –

How I felt about you.

How I missed you.

How much I missed you.

The letter described what we would do,

If we ever got together.

How we’d smile, laugh until our stomachs hurt.

Of shared meals, pillow fights.

Stories told and secrets shared.

Only I never penned the words.

The letter I almost wrote to you,

Stayed with me as you never did.

The Unkindness of Kindness

‘Kindness is not kind,’ claimed he.

Subtle on the outside, it rages within.

Unlike I.

Fighting for a cause, causing a change.

Yeah, it does all of that but nothing’s free!

With kindred eyes, it lures you in,

No gifts In return. All in vain.

‘It doesn’t stop at you,’ said the Devil.

But makes you do it to others,

And others unto you.

Beware, it’s a vicious circle,

There’s no getting out!

But if you like, I can help you,

Just choose your vice.

I am not sure if this makes any sense. The idea of Satan talking on kindness suddenly popped in my head.

Doing good or being good is not easy. A virtue is not easily earned. When it is, it changes you. Your heart changes and you are in tune with the goodness in the universe. But ‘goodness’ doesn’t come easy.

We (at least I) have always pictured Satan as this red beast with horns, a tail and with a trident ready to strike. He is automatically to be blamed for everything we do wrong – the choices, the habits, the sins, crimes etc.

But what if he were a simple and misunderstood being/ fallen angel who just wanted us to know the ‘other’ side of virtues?


Perhaps, in another time,

On another day,

We’d enjoy the sunset far far away.

You and I’d stand together and smile,

the twinkles crinkling your eyes.

As we would plan the rest of the days of our lives.

You’d hold my hand, warming the chill in my bones,

As I would drink the unspoken promises, drowning my groans.

But, if only it were true.

You & I stand today, not together.

The smile causes no crinkles,

As the fabric of time gathers wrinkles.

Wildflower Child

I am sorry.

For many things,

I misled you to believe.

Sorry, I truly am.

For I am not weak.

Nor fragile, delicate or beautiful.

You can’t bruise me,

Flatten, trample or pluck me swiftly.

For I am a wildflower,

Borne from the core,

Simple yet difficult,

Common but not easily found.

For I have braved the winds

And lashes of rain,

I have heard the mountains tremble

And the earth dissemble.

For I am the wildflower,

Deeply rooted in the earth within.