Poetry

Real.

493ss_thinkstock_rf_purple_bruise

Real as the purple bruises
Real as the vulnerable me
Find peace in the real you,
For being real sets you free.

 

Sukanya.

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Poetry

Raw

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Unknown Artist

 

 

 

Have you stayed raw lately

With your flesh still clinging to your soul

changing skins

For every excuse and rationalisation

Raw is denied, raw is abhorred

Raw is uncomplex, naked in all senses

From raw we escape

And raw we want to seek

And no, it’s not a necessity because

Sometimes you’ll pause and stare

For you’ll forget your real one

With all the masks you wore

You’ll often call the false one your own.

Until it will give an itch

And crawl up under your skin

Infect your heart

And murder your soul

You’ll realize you’re sick

Struck with a terminal disease

Life will become a nauseous ride

And plenty of time of endure

For I am raw.

 

 

Sukanya.

Poetry

Work.

 

Alex Pillin.jpg
Artwork By Alex Pilin

 

The dark sheets are tangling,
and so is my spirit to keep myself awake
in the wee hours of the morning.

I have to work
and by work, I intend
lending my knowledge and substance
to thieves smiling in suits.

They call it called work.
The ultimatum of fifteen years
of dreaming with open eyes
of having the power to change.

I am being consciously robbed by society.
And my people are the accomplices
because of their worldly possessions
of talents and the ability to dream were snatched too

They want you to exchange
these treasured belongings of yours
like your gift of creating magic with sounds
or evoke feelings with mere words

for coloured paper with unmatched worth
they put a price tag on your ways of life
ask you to sell your worth

in replacement for attractive litter
calling commodities obligations of life.

You know, you know all.
Yet you prefer to blindfold your eyes
and enjoy the distress

Your real riches are validation
You celebrate sadness
Your value misery
And misery you chase to seek,
and recommend your loved ones too.

Like pills, society prescribes it
drugs themselves of ignorance.
My ancestors did it, and so will I.
I will go to work too.

 

 

Sukanya.
©reserved.

Poetry

Me and my storm.

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I stand on a slippery rock
while huge waves roar beside me,
foaming white and grey.

I quite not remember how I arrived but,
The hard blue sea is the only horizon I see
for my eyes don’t reach lands, or any humanity

This sea is powerful,
but I wonder whether it ever exhausts
of being in a constant storm and conflict

I am tired, of watching this sea every day.
I calm one wave, a thousand more erupt

And then I send a bottled message to my lover,
“Please help me.”
desperately crawling around the small rock,
bearing the wild sea, waiting for the aid

Perhaps it is a mirage
but the rock I am stranded on,
becomes smaller,
and the sea ever more monstrous

It is beyond my control, this havoc
I am tiny to this mighty phenomenon
There is nothing I can do
except wait for the rage to calm itself

The only thing I dread that
I may have finally accepted that,
this is where I belong.

Me and my storm.

 

 

Sukanya.

Poetry

Vase.

I imagined myself as a solid vase,
having a set of true colours,
and the strength to contain
the secrets of the world.

But I am still a piece of clay,
gyrating in the hands of people
disguised as potters.

Each running a hand,
skilled or unskilled,
giving me a shape,
and a direction to incline.

Fingers are those which make me,
and break me.
Some pointing at me,
and some pointing away from me.

Unaware of my outcome,
and frightened by the potters,
I do as they say.

“Of course I cannot sculpt myself,
it’s foolish and daring.
I will rotate until
they are tired of playing.”

I contemplate.
I feel the joy of admiration,
and nightmares of crashing.

Can I be a vase?
Or is being a vase
the potter’s false dream?

 

 

Sukanya.

College & Else.

“I keep forgetting to put some things in my backpack!”

I used to think that oftentimes until I became used to the things I habitually need while backpacking for college. As I mentioned in my previous post, I am going to give an insight into my bag. Wanted to do this since so long.

Apart from the tiny titbits, it is very essential that we do not forget to put the books and study material needed for the next day in college. For that, put a reminder on your phone (Google Reminders are the most reliable). If you tend to snooze your alarms and notifications, put multiple reminders, say one at night and one early in the morning.

It is better if you always carry things for yourself in the backpack, keeping in mind not to rely on anybody for any supplies. Hence you must carry:

  1. Two pens (blue) as preferred by you.  Having two pens is just right. It is useless to bring too many pens because we know we won’t use them. At the same time, having just one pen can cause a lot of embarrassment and inconvenience if the ink dies midway (I have been in such situations).
  2. You must carry a mini pack of tissues because they often come handy, sometimes to clean your shirt stains or blow your nose in case you catch a cold. Tissues are disposable and can be used in all places, whereas cloth handkerchiefs cant.
  3. Always carry your ID cards wherever you go. Often make sudden plans after lectures to go to annual festivals or events in various colleges and one must recheck every day whether they have all of their identity cards in place.
  4. It is often dusty (especially in my city) while we travel so I always carry a face wash and some sunscreen, chapstick and a mini towel. I head straight for the washroom as I enter the college gates and freshen up before I reach my classroom. Even in the afternoon, my skin becomes really sweaty and I hate feeling sticky so it is always a great idea to keep these in my bag, and maybe in your bag too.
  5. Your notebooks must be in order. Always check the notebooks that you carry, and take a brief look at the notes before you enter your classroom.
  6. One must carry a bottle of water. Buy a cute water bottle from your favourite store and hang it with your bag. Do keep that cute bottle with yourself because people steal bottles and I don’t know why. (Someone has stolen my bottle wtf)
  7. IF you like homecooked food over the junk food, you are blessed because I couldn’t resist myself and gained a lot of weight with that food. Also I felt lethargic so it is a great great idea to carry a lunchbox. I recommend taking boiled eggs, salads and other healthy foods.
Poetry

Wide Awake.

Ever felt the moment,
when your pseudo self dies,
and your conscience awakens.
When your minds opens wide,
collecting the present reality.

Forget the scheduled meeting,
forget the fight, the race,
forget the crippling inferiority,
and watch the world pass by.

You are a living being.
Savouring the grooving branches,
the bright stonepath,
the breeze teasing your hair,
whispering praises in your ears.

Nature indeed loves you.
She vowed to protect you
and nurture you to your best.

But her kids are now spoiled
with all that affection
they are greedy men and women
who can kill her for themselves.

One fine day,
just as the one you’re walking upon,
she would swallow us in her,
buried in her carcass.

And you realize,
there is much more than desires,
market and capitalism,
public image and rumors.

There is us, and nature,
the simple natural beings
who have a mission to breed earth
with love and positivity.

And here you are at last.
Mother was waiting for you
to get over the hangover.
You’re wide awake.

 

 

 

Sukanya.
©reserved.