Cry

Who says “Stop Crying. You are big enough.”? instead of ” Come, here. It will be fine.” Well, family. I guess family does that.

*Note to self – Just because I am 18, means I am not eligible to cry; means I have surpassed the phase of being capable of feeling emotions and being capable of letting out my anger; means even if I am crying randomly without any reason I have committed a sin.

Crying is a sign of weakness, a sign of giving up, a sign of submission to adversaries, a sign of being dominated by your emotions. It is a sign that you are still human, isn’t it? And being human is itself a sin. *

Thank you for telling me I am big enough to not to cry.

For now I realize that my problems are big that make me want to cry

and I realize that my problems are not just anything,

but something from which my tear glands shed out tears

from which I will learn something.

Thank You.

 

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Delving into the Reality

Sometimes when happiness is all I can feel

I, just like a cynic, wonder

When will Pain and Tragedy

Make me kneel

in front of them

Shattered and Broken

 

Then Sometimes when I am too into reality

I, just like a child, wonder

When will my life be engulfed

into fantasy

 

Cause I sometimes wish,

that the power of imagination could overcome

the pain of reality..

I am Rational

But It ain’t enough

I am Two-Faced

But is not enough

I am what the world wants me to be

But, apparently, it is not enough

Because Somewhere deep down

I wish that people were what they claim to be

But that itself is a fantasy, right?

 

 

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The Family Curse

The mother pitied .

Pitied her Husbands’s fate.

Made to absorb but not to release.

Just to rein the tornado inside and never speak against, ever again.

She empathized and sympathized.

Took the decision to not let the Family Curse be bequeathed.

But what she didn’t realize

She had another child.

A child made to inherit the curse so that

the other could live without it.

So the curse continued

And this time it was Not her husband’s legacy

It was hers.

 

 

The Letter

The letter came.

Honored. Ecstatic. Hopeful. Unexpected.

Maybe life was not hard as she had first thought. Maybe someone had recognized after all, what was the war within and had given her the antidote. Maybe someone saw. Saw and accepted. Accepted and Embraced. Embraced and gave.

But, maybe Life is a teaser. Blink of an eye and the reality dawns.Mirrors are just reflections, reflections of reality that you wish were made more of the fantasies.

Rejection. Desperation. Chaos. Despair.

Yet, the resolution was made. After all, we give what we have. She gave her decision. Time was all that was needed. Needed to show, to prove and to heal. Time is what IS needed.

The letter came,
It stays.
Now, it is a reminder.

Her Hands

Her hands were strong. Robust. Whoever held them felt her support and warmth. Dependence. Acceptance.
Only once did they ever let their guard off. In front of Him. Her everything.
But her lines, scarred and burnt. Endeavoring to make their own destiny. Make own future. Make ownself.