“At one magical instant in your early childhood, the page of a book—that string of confused, alien ciphers—shivered into meaning. Words spoke to you, gave up their secrets; at that moment, whole universes opened. You became, irrevocably, a reader.” –Alberto Manguel

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Saturday, March 19, 2016

Faded Lucidity

We talk how people should have their bodies to please our eyes or what type of appearance is more appealing to us. Let me tell, I have known a bunch of people who are pleasing to eyes but they can't please the soul. People appear ugly if they don't possess moral and ethics. We discuss what body type a girl or a guy should have, but what would we do when they age. You see, we set heart on temporary things and then when it passes away with time, we find no way out of it. It’s like Siren, who lured sailors to crash their ships to rocky islands.

People possess different ethnicity and genes, to make them feel bad about their appearance is such a terrible thing to do. How bad it is to give someone an experience about an ugly appearance no matter how beautiful are they at their heart(s). Worst thing we could do to people is to make them feel worse about something they are not responsible for. It's like sentencing the victim and letting the criminal run away, ain't it?

There's something about reading and imagination. Some sort of comfort and freedom in having an imagination of a character you've just read about. I understand how sometimes reality can be ugly or how people can portray it worse than it actually is. But when it is non-existent, we have ability to portray it nice and do justice with it. I like some things to be limited to mind and not bring them into the world physically. I can fix it and customize it. It's like having full authority and freedom to do whatever you want. But then mind is a dangerous place, some thoughts you once conceive never fade away.

I love the way we fall in love with a character in a story, how we wish best for that character as we turn the next page. I love how we fall for them without having any idea of their appearance. We fall for them for their souls and whenever asked about your favorite character you never miss their names and sometimes, you reference them and die for them to be real. I believe, people are good at heart. We know what’s right or wrong, we very well know what is ethical and what’s not, and we know what’s good and bad. 

Like people know smoking kills, they have got Goddamn family but they still smoke. They hide from their kids and smoke, ‘cause they don’t want to pass it on to their kids. We live in such a delusion that we do things we know are not right to do. While having multiple experiences, I got to know –when we are sad and in pain, we are pure. I love innocence and it is something nothing can replace. I hate people who make other people feel terrible for things like appearance or their background. I hate people who make other people feel bad any other way. 

I am counting myself too, I hate it when I find I made people feel bad. I hate the fact that unintentionally, I played evil and it is not a good feeling at all. I don’t want to be the reason for someone losing their innocence. It is like we know everything, but we wanna do something evil that we pretend we don’t know what’s right or wrong. We pretend as if our conscience faded away at some horizon and we are too blind to see. Singing out, may God bless y’all. 

Thursday, March 10, 2016

Rough Patch

“Sometimes, things happen and you have no one to blame for. Sometimes, it happens to teach you something. Worst circumstances proves a great warrior and I am not the one who gives up easily, so bring it on. I want to remember, I fought –no matter I won or lost.”

























Flashback 2 decades;
candies were accolades,
paper airplanes and pistols;
card board houses and plastic dolls,
delayed tuition fee at school;
big kids don’t play but they rule,
bad grades on report card;
never been starred,
rented house, single bedroom;
finally had our little home,
jealousy well defined;
got it? never mind,
pocket money over again;
there comes the bargain,
man, all of the trouble;
so I formed this bubble,
stranger who molested me;
must die worst, I wanna see,
teen age and old radio;
my anger and alter ego,
same shirt thrice a week;
think a lot, never speak,
picked looking at right in the menu;
doesn’t matter what’s the venue,
knew mama saved money in a jar;
some wounds don’t leave a scar,
dropped things back looking at price tag;
ain’t no money in my bag,
man who stole my dad’s money;
ain’t no mercy, may he dies in misery,
dad’s scooter in blue;
man I loved that, they sold it too,
people don’t help but pretend;
imma break ‘em if they don’t bend,
working hard, success will unlock;
don’t say, “do” then we’ll talk,
to my friends in Delhi, sorry;
promise, will see ya soon don’t worry,
life’s a bitch I know;
it’s been quite a show,
know it was a rough patch;
like an itch ya can’t scratch,
but it's on, bitch it's on;
miss me when am gone.

© Shreya ♥

P.S. My creation, please do not copy | Copyright © Protected | Image: Google

Wednesday, March 9, 2016

The Becoming

Over time I am getting a little convinced that you be nice to people as much as you could and you did everything you should, but still you can't make friends. You just can't make them meet you before they leave the city for another job, you can't make them send you birthday wishes ‘cause obviously there is nothing mutual, and you can't be part of their wedding. You will get to know by friends of friends about them, see pictures on social media and kind of miss the time you were in touch, shared things and promised they will be friends forever. And then you laugh on the word "forever" and remember a line from Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll. “Alice: How long is forever? White Rabbit: Sometimes, just one second.” And try to escape the thought.

I tell you, you're always gonna wonder why they never tried to communicate. And you will never find a satisfactory answer, never. Contrary to those people, you will have some people or maybe just one person who will never leave you –“no matter what”. You could look ugly as hell, you made zillion mistakes, you broke and broke them over again and they will stay. And you will wonder you don't deserve them or why they not leaving or maybe you'll never understand their value. But, thing is you are doing same thing others did to you.

Things once lost are often loved more, right? People don't talk to you when you’re struggling or seeking help, they kind of don't remember you exist. Some just pretend they helping but hardly do anything about it. But when you become something, they come over to congratulate you or in other words want to know how you did that and suddenly you are around so many people that it suffocates you and you don't understand what's going on. As a result, you shut off. World is a scary place, ain’t it?

Here is the irony: Often, we evolve –we change, ‘cause things changed around us and in us. Sometimes, we just get over the times when we were miserable and that’s why forget people who were then with us when everyone else walked out. Very common thing I noticed, we get job or promotion –we give treat to friends and colleagues. Parents suddenly blur in the background. I hate that, I hate the fact how everything else becomes so secondary. How fast things could change and leave us with excuses.

I noticed people are sort of scared to say things, or maybe avoid saying what should actually be said. Me too! But, guessing is a tough job right. They won't say they didn't like something, they will just react or maybe talk to other people about it. And sometimes, they will say things but won't act. They will tell you they care about you but then they will never be around when you need them. We actually, never need anyone and we have been fine that way.

There is nothing to do with any particular instance. I am writing this ‘cause I want myself to be reminded that things change and nothing is for forever, and so are the troubles. I want to be grounded, no matter what I possess. I don’t want to change the good things in me. I want to think and have things to think about, and I love impressing myself. I don’t wanna get used to anything. I have been stoic and I want to be. We become what we think. So Think!

Friday, March 4, 2016

Money Games

“We at a point of time think money is all we need, and we plan our life that way. But happiness is another equation and money or any kind of number can’t balance it. See, numbers are for business and life ain’t business –so, sooner or later it doesn’t matter what’s your age, how much money you got, how many accounts you have, what’s your car model, how much is area of your house, what amount of luxury you possess, how many people liked (pretend to like) your photo on social media, how many trips you been to, what’s your height or weight. What matters is, are you happy? Because, happiness is something we create and you can be happy by reading a simple text and sometimes you can’t find happiness in 6 figure salary. I especially don’t like people who flaunt their stuff as status symbol. Anyone who reads Neruda, Murakami, Rumi, Bukowski, Sylvia Plath and remembers lines from their book is rich in my opinion. Or anyone, who treats people equally despite religion, cast, sexual orientation, color of skin, country, language, etc. You see, things can separate people in zillion ways.”


























22 new in the city;
big dreams, no money,
standing in endless queues for job;
dressed in old, holding degree.
Staying in a shoe-box;
street 16, opposite to a park,
with 4 figure salary;
missing spot, tryna make my mark.
Lost 6 in this city;
what they call that?
“rat race”, huh!
no feather in my hat.
Saving money for home;
fucked up leave policy,
August at home finally;
but good times pass easy.
Extended hours at work;
but won’t extra pay me,
that’s my job they said;
can’t answer where’s my money.
Story 2 years later;
good job in a big company,
they said, nah not a great move;
bitch now its 5 figures when they tax me.
Don’t even compare the numbers;
you don’t know that much math,
know you must hate me;
but I don’t give a fuck, how’s that?
Dirty money games;
16 months didn’t see my family,
business replaced my priorities;
but numbers doesn’t make you happy.
Know now how shit works;
people are gonna judge ya,
they talk and won’t stop;
don’t worry your mama loves ya.
Struggle doesn’t end here;
the shit gets more real,
friends in 3 digits to say;
no one shows up when you fail.
Tell me I am an ice queen;
and I wish to be one,
world operates on numbers;
and I got none.

© Shreya ♥

P.S. My creation, please do not copy | Copyright © Protected | Image: Google