We Bleed (To Transform)

(Transmogrify)
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I don’t know what it is about blood. We claim it’s a bad thing yet we can’t stop bleeding. We let others wound us over and over again until gash is a foot deep into our soul. Sometimes we wound others and get wounded in the process.

We clutch tightly to barbed wires of emotional attachments and walk on the burning coals of expectations. And by the end of it when we fall on the ground profusely gushing and wounded to our core, we make promises to ourselves; never again. But as we all know, promises are made to be broken.

The wound is by now infected because you didn’t take care of it well. You didn’t suture it on time and you didn’t put the bandage when you should have. You just let it be; as a reminder of all the things you loved that ruined you.

We fall back onto bed made of thorns of disappointment, exhausted. And bleed some more. We bleed until we can’t. We ache until every muscle in our body refuses to ache anymore. We suffer until pain itself screams in pain. Until the infection has spread onto every small vein and down to our very bones. Until we find ourselves disintegrating- crumbling, decaying, withering.

But,
How else could we have become anew,
If we had not first become ashes?

Let’s Make A Change

(WPC: The SunShine )

“Let me tell you something: no one is going to look at you, broken and shattered 
and think -
damn, you are beautiful.
No one is going to come pick up your broken pieces off the floor and
 assemble them into a beautiful whole.

Hell,
 you won’t even look at yourself and think – 
I made broken look beautiful.

You know why?

Because all those writers lied to you.

Yes, 
all those with their poems of scraped knuckles and 
blood dripping down chins, 
pomegranate songs and loves that ripped through you like 
hurricanes.

Liars.

So you and I, 
we are going to make a plan.

You are not going to romanticize days when your brain tells you to smash that mirror,
You are not going to romanticize the lover who doesn’t understand you 
but still writes about you.

Here is what you are going to romanticize instead:
You are going to romanticize the first day of spring,
Its gentle hands all over your body,
Lifting you up until you are as light as a feather.

You are going to romanticize the tea and honey kind of love,
No hurricanes, 
but sunshine that builds you up from within,
That helps you make it through the worst days.

You are going to romanticize gentle hands of a friend 
in yours,
Telling you that it is going to be okay.

Because it is.

And don’t trust poets, 
we’re no good,
 we love pretending that our jagged edges tantamount to a beautiful disaster, but in reality – 
there isn’t nothing beautiful about shaky hands holding a cigarette and 
empty eyes staring at the cracks in the walls.

You know what is beautiful, instead?

The days when you can look at yourself in the mirror and smile, 
scars and all.
Music that makes your soul flow like a river, 
books that offer comfort, 
families flocking together like overgrown birds to keep you safe and warm,
 friends that give you strength when you can find none, 
lovers who make you laugh through tears.

Baby, 
from now on 
you are going to romanticize healing;
Honey dripping down your fingertips,
August nights that stick to your skin, the day you find your purpose, 
long car rides and singing so loud that no one can shut you up now.

Bad news: 
no one is coming to save you.

Good news: 
you can save yourself.”
– Lana Rafaela (via wnq-writers.tumblr.com)

( Daily Prompt: Millions )

Where The Heart Is 

(WPC: Local :Show us where the heart is.)

Home is in the infinite space surrounding the sky.

The hotel room was surprisingly clean, two single beds were joined together to make it a bigger bed against the wall. The interior was comparatively simple, with green carpet and plane white walls. Two arm chairs with a table in front were placed opposite the bed. It wasn’t very luxurious but it was fulfilling his purpose for now. He gave out a tired breath and let himself fall on the chair. The chairs were conveniently placed closer to the window. He looked at the deserted road at 12 am which still showed a hint of night life as few cars passed by. The summer wind was softly blowing through the windows and onto his face. He closed his eyes to take it all in. Her face flashed in front of him as soon as he closed his eyes. The vision of her hair being softly caressed by the same wind that was now touching his face. Damn, what did this woman do to him, he cursed himself. As clock ticked by, with his tired eyes, all he could think of was her. In all the hours, in all the minutes, in all the seconds she had captured his attention. There was something about her. He couldn’t figure it out and it was killing him.

He felt frustrated, he wanted to hold her tight with a strong grip and ask her to look in his eyes so he would know what exactly she carried beneath those alluring lashes. He wanted to tear off the skin she was wearing so he could see underneath, the soul she was carrying. Despite his best attempts he couldn’t figure out who or what she was. This woman was driving him crazy.

He took out a cigarette from his pack, there were only two more left. There would be none left by morning he was sure. He wished there was something stronger to drown his anxiety. But for now cigarettes would do too. He took out a lighter, burned his cigarette and inhaled a long puff and slowly exhaled it out. Watching the smoke make patterns in the air and then dissolving in the summer air by finding escape through the open window.

This woman was like smoke… Mysterious, beautiful and a killer. She was killing him softly, with her infectious laughter and her enticing eyes.. The way she would touch him, ever so lightly and then disappear in the crowd. And he like a madman would follow her around. Trying to catch another glimpse of her allusive beauty. God Damn, this is getting out of hand he thought to himself. He was probably no good for her or maybe she was too intense for him. He didn’t know anymore. All he knew was he wanted to see her again. He wanted her fix like an addict. It was like this woman had completely taken over him. In his veins, in his blood, in the air he breathed, she was everywhere. She was all around him. He wanted to hold her against the wall, pin her and kiss her till she would beg for forgiveness for all what she made him feel.. If only he could do that. Taste her lips. The lips that lied with a smile. If only he could look deep in her eyes. The eyes that usually betrayed her smile.

By now the cigarette pack was empty, dammit he needed to stop this, he thought. At least they should have lasted till morning. But the thoughts of her were too distracting for him to notice how poison was filling his lungs all this time. He sighed and moved to the bed. He slept as soon as his back hit against the bed.

He dreamt about her. As always.
And he realized that he could never have her as the day dawned upon.
But he knew that in the night he could have her thoughts.
She was a wish never to be fulfilled,
But a dream that could always be seen.
And so he dreamed. As always. He dreamed.


(Flâneur  )

You There

It’s in the way she moves,
Softly, firmly, quietly,
Like she doesn’t wish to be spotted.
Slipping through cracks,
And disappearing into the crowd.

It’s in the way she laughs,
So ordinary, so familiar,
Yet a contradiction to her eyes.

Her eyes, so profound-
Seemingly an abysmal nothingness,
Yet containing everything.
Everything that needs to be known about her.

(Daily Prompt: Flattery Radical Authenticity )

October Is Here.

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Wow, I can’t believe it’s been an year! I wrote this following poem last October but never got around to sharing it. So I thought it’s only appropriate now that another October is here, to post this as an Ode to this month of dying beauty. It’s also a testament to how far I’ve come as a writer and most importantly feeling comfortable enough to share my work with the world. It brings back all kind of nostalgia to think I couldn’t share this last year but now I’m ready to own my writings and the writer in me. So without further due here it is.
_________________________

October is here and September is gone,
while November is soon to come.

The days turn to nights and nights into days,
While I wait for your return.

Standing on the threshold of our dreams,
I stand gazing upon the autumn trees.

The crisp air swooshes by me,
And leaves filled with color fall upon my feet.

I melt into the October sky,
I reflect how so many months have since passed by,
while I wait with my tears all dried,
And coffee turned cold.

The morning sun peeks through the autumn trees,
Solemn air mourns and weeps.
I need your warmth to save me,
From the cold dark nights that are soon to embrace me.

October is here, but not you.
Not yet.

Maybe November, maybe December.
Or maybe in January February.
Someday you will return,
Whether it’s March, April, June or July.

I will wait for you forever,
Even through August and September.

And then October will come again,
Bringing back memories of the day you left.
Leaving behind a flesh of heaving weeping mess,
Stranded on the doorway tracing your footsteps.

October is here again, but not you.
Not yet.

( Nostalgia )

Chords Of Life (A HUGE ANNOUNCEMENT!!!)

Weekly Photo Challenge: Possibility. Opportunity. Potential. New year. New adventures. Let’s inspire one another — show us what’s new.

There is this girl I know. She is one of the first few people I’ve known since the starting days of my blogging. We’ve been friends ever since. I just texted her to ask how long have we known each other and she replied 1.4 years and I couldn’t believe how far we have come since then. It’s seems like yesterday when I started my blog and we first chatted. I love her to bits and pieces, one of the best people I know here. She is as genuine as it can get, kindhearted, warm and an avid animal lover! Who is this amazing person you ask??!!

Her name is Kruti and she writes this blog:

Kruti Mehta:
AUTHOR AND POETESS IN-MAKING “Your Eyes Show the Strength of Your Soul”

Why I am telling you guys all of this today you must be wondering? What’s New? It’s with immense pleasure I’m announcing today that her second book Chords Of Life is out !! *jumps up and down in excitement* Yaey yaey yaey!!!

I’ve read the book and let me tell you *my totally biased* opinion, It’s AAAAH-MAAYY-ZINGGGGG !!! This book is an inspiration to my new year. So for this week’s photo challenge here is an image of her new book I’m reading.

photo 1

“Chords of Life is a collection of strange, morbid, unusual tales of my mind. Our life is like Chords of a Guitar each filled with different emotions at every stage. We may not face the same level of harshness as others, but we do know the bitter truth about cruelty. Each story is crafted with a different emotion within itself.”

Today I’m asking you to show support to this blogging community, support each other! Please go buy her book. You are going to love it.

Here are the details.

For free shipping – http://www.cyberwit.net/publications/734

Other links – http://www.flipkart.com/chords-life-symphony-darkness-english/p/itme39hqsetbeanw?pid=9788182535534&otracker=start&q=9788182535534&as=off&as-show=off
http://www.infibeam.com/Books/chords-life-kruti-mehta/9788182535534.html#variantId=P-M-B-978818253553

***********************************BONUS******************************************

If you guys are still not convinced about buying the book, I’m going to let you in on a little secret, One of my stories is also featured in that book!! Some of you might remember the story from my blog as I posted it once here. (It’s not here anymore so don’t go snooping around for it! Haha just kidding! )

So please please please go buy that book, what are you waiting for??!!

Go Go Go!!!! \o/

*Cheering you on* 😀

(Oh and if you guys could please spread the word any way feasible for you that’d be much appreciated too. Share it through Tweet, Facebook, Reblog, Pinterest, Tumblr? Anything would work. You can find all of these sharing options below the post. Thank you so much ! ❤ )

The Sweetest Victory

I wrote this essay on the topic “Success is counted sweetest by those who never succeed.” I think it is fairly appropriate to share it today as a response to today’s Daily Prompt.

If you want to know what it’s like to win ask the one who lost. The idea of victory is sweeter to those who lose than it is in reality to those who win. I think it says that those who don’t succeed imagine that it taste sweeter then it does for those who succeed and do taste it. Lack of success, is what makes the actual success so sweet. This is the opposite of sour grapes fable.

“Success is stumbling from failure to failure with no loss of enthusiasm.”
― Winston Churchill

“Those who never succeed” place the highest value on success. They count it sweetest. Those who succeed never truly appreciate it—it is only those who fail, or who lack something, that can truly appreciate how wonderful it would be if they did succeed. To understand the value of nectar, one must feel “sorest need”. The members of the victorious army are not able to define victory as well as the defeated, dying man who hears from a distance the music of the victors. “Success”—can best be comprehended by someone who “needs” it.

Those who always win never know the true value of winning and those who never win long for the win all the time. We gain perfection through failure.

“Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.”
― Truman Capote

Through defeat we try to appreciate the real value of success. Those who are in love they can not understand the value of love but those who have failed in love, know the real meaning of love. Just like saying if you have never lost hope how could you ever find it?

Those who have not succeeded are the ones who crave it the most. To a person who never wins, victory is sweet, but to a person who has always won, they don’t really understand the value of success. For those who overcome the great battle, they can not measure the significance of victory compared to the losers. It is in defeat that we truly learn to appreciate victory.

“Sometimes it takes a good fall to really know where you stand”
― Haley Williams

Victory must take its natural route and cannot be rushed. In other words, it must be fully appreciated through an initial, natural defeat before a more fulfilling victory can be realized. Victory could be realized sooner, but it would be neither sweet, nor appreciated.

“Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”
― Confucius

The realization of true victory in the midst of defeat is the true success.

“A successful man is one who can lay a firm foundation with the bricks others have thrown at him.” – David Brinkley

For how can one truly understand happiness without the accompaniment of sadness? Or love without hate? Success cannot be realized without at first knowing the desperation that comes along with losing.

“I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life and that is why I succeed.” -Michael Jordan

Success is the ultimate triumph and is sweetest to those who desperately desire it but have never obtained it. Success is sweetest to them than to the people who already have power and success. Some people work so hard and struggle to reach a goal, but somehow even when triumph is at their fingertips, it still remains out of their grasp. Perhaps in the absence of triumph, success does become an obsession. The fortunate ones who already have success, on the other hand, do not seem to appreciate it as much. To them success is like an everyday common occurrence.

It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed.”
― Theodore Roosevelt

The feeling of being ‘so near and yet so far’, agonizingly brings home the point that it is in defeat that we truly learn to appreciate victory – so much so, that the more the defeats, the sweeter the success.

“Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.”
― Winston Churchill

It is true that the defeated can feel both victory and defeat, while the victorious can only feel the win, then we are stuck with the “grass is always greener…” clause. If done with respect, only then can the winners actually be victorious. Therefore the onus is upon the victorious to rise above the win.

Some people define success by virtue of positions that they acquire and assume in life. But it is not only just about success, but about want and desire, too. As Albert Einstein said:

Try not to become a man of success. Rather become a man of value.

Three Gates

When it comes to criticizing or giving advice or saying anything to the other person for that matter I just keep this in mind:

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