PHOTOGRAPHS

I love the way everyone shows up a smile while posing for pictures. All worries, woes, anxieties, pain forgotten in a jiffy. For pretence comes in so naturally even when it comes to freezing the past.
           Aberrantly I have always wished for life to be confined only up till picture albums. Vehemently wishing that the joyful facade we effortlessly put up, sinks into our daily lives. That sugar coated captions work effectively whenever anything goes out of way. Oh, but aren't albums long lost just like our happiness, the phone galleries successfully replacing like plastic smiles we put up every day?


              

FADED HORIZON 🌌

She was a perfect embodiment of light and hope and every night she loved to gaze at the night sky, fascinate the tiny sparks and wait desperately for a shooting star. A beautiful intermingling of darkness and light lured her more than anything. Staring at nothing she found everything. A magnificent bewitchment where gleams of light overrule darkness at times to form a beautiful image, a constellation, because hope too has similar traits. Wouldn't light and hope have lost the battle long ago in absence of darkness and despair?
             As she survived every night, she evolved bit by bit. And then she glowed the brightest that night as everyone's eyes reflected her light, as she was one and complete.
            She was the moon.
       

Be Free, Be Proud!

The guy next door, happens to giggle insolently evertime he stamps over me. Your mother takes enough precautionary measures to wrap me tight with an opaque substance.
                       Yeah! I am a "tampon", a "sanitary napkin" and I demand to know the reasons that I have been shamed for.

     Peek-a-boo. If you get to sneak a glance at me. Your hormones start playing their part. The blood boils in your veins, like a ripe potion in a cauldron. The TV commercials publicising me seem to have an adverse affect on you.
                Yes! I am a "bra". A part of every girl's attire. 
         This isn't something which aims to elevate your romanticising thoughts. It is a silent cry from every girl and woman who is being looked down upon for going through a normal monthly procedure. Such an irony, a girl is being shamed for going through her 'period' while if she isn't on one, she is being cursed as an 'infertile rag'.
        This is an infuriated charge from every girl, who is being eyed hungrily from every man looking at her chest. This is even more shameful for a man than a girl going through her 'period'.
This Women's Day live yourself, free yourself and help yourself.

Of coincidences and serendipities!?

To the scorching daylight, 
In anticipation  that it would be soothing someday.
To the random pencil strokes,
In want of a perfect masterpiece.
To the ear deafening chaos,
In search of a beautiful melody amongst it.
To the frustrating rush-hour traffic,
In need of stealing delightful moments between them.
To the selfish stone -hearted crowd, 
In greed of a selfless, lovable person amidst it.
To the damaged and dusty books of the storeroom,
In hope of grasping the perfect novel.
To all the torn and unsent letters,
That someday they will find the person addressed to.
To the lonely, creepy and dark street I get lost in,
In hope that it might lead to you.
Will all this be just a play of coincidences and serendipities?