Open With Caution

‘Open with caution’, he warns
You may not like what you see
Thousands before you have feared
The real picture of me.

I open the box with hesitation
Mixed with fear and elation
The creek opens an empty cabinet
Is this his biggest temptation?

‘Ahh, I see you have found it
The mirror of my heavy spirit
The box is empty and so am I
This is what you are to commit.’

I look in his eyes and see
The opposite of his reality
He is so full of life and love
He’s a lock and I’m the key.

My hand on his cheek I say
‘I’m willing to take the risk and stay’.

Poisoned by Lead(ers)

There was a girl,
Born with the world In her hands,
but she didn’t share
No she couldn’t care.

And this prodigious girl
Knew from the start,
Blessed with beauty and brains,
she was Destined for fortune and fame.

The girl knew she was destined
To lead us poor souls, restless
To make it to the top
It was her birthright, of course.

Who else would take the reins,
The rest were all too plain.
“The mortals should be honoured
To have me as their ‘mother’.”

However, some were not convinced,
And she determined them to be minced.
She demanded their respect.
How dare they object?

So she sent out a message,
To all the non believers,
And this is is the response
Of one such receiver:

I got a message the other day
From someone with too much to say
Told me I should make them my leader
And who am I? A bottom feeder?

Oh my dear sweet innocent ‘leader’
Let me tell you why I’m not a believer.
Why should I stand by you?
Became you tell me to?

My leader won’t ask for my respect.
That’s something for me to accept
Don’t try to buy my reverence,
It is not your defence.

There are many that proclaim,
“You are not worthy of such fame.
Entitlement is not an accomplishment,
With nothing to your name, you’ll repent.”

So my dear sweet child,
The world is rarely so mild.
Be ready for a rebellion,
For we, the followers, will be jubilant.

Littles

I took your tiny hand
So fragile, soon to expand.
And wondered who would ask for it later?

When the sparkle in your eyes
Would light up the skies
Of other man,
Another caretaker.


“It’s over.”

“Why?

“I’m in love with someone else. Me.”


Why do people say they have to ‘find’ themselves?

You aren’t lost. You’re just dormant.


Do what you want to do.
By doing what you need to do.


“Stop pulling my cheeks, bhaiya!”

“Why? You always wanted to be a model. Now you’re my modelling clay.”


“Why did you have to leave the little girl behind in Kingston town?”

“She’s not my little girl.”


He looks into the puddle. He throws the ring into it. He watches the ring dissolve into the murky water.

All trace of her will evaporate.


‘How did you know she was the one?’

Rubbing his ring between his fingers he says, ‘When I stopped thinking of what my life would be like without her.’


I’m a Queen.
Of a different world.
All those around me can’t understand
The shine of my gold.


I wish you had never written me anything. I wish you could have said everything, so it would have been lost in the wind.
Then I wouldn’t have to make a choice.
To delete everything.


“I wonder if you would reply if I was someone else.”


He has never felt a real love towards a person, just a person behind a screen.


“Here.” She hands him a necklace with a pendant shaped like the infinity symbol.

“Why?” The sadness in his eyes is permanent.

“It doesn’t mean that I will love you infinitely, I cannot promise you that, but I can promise that in this moment, my love for you is infinite. And nothing, not even time can take this moment away from you. This necklace is to remind you of what we have, even if it becomes what we had.”

She touches his face. He moves away.

Then she picks up her bags and walks out of his life for the last time.

War

“I feel like I’m waging an internal battle.”

You’ve heard this line uttered by countless teenagers and 20-something’s and this is the point where you make up your mind about this being just another cliche melodramatic rant. You would probably stop reading here.

Let’s try to think out of the box here, just for a second. Every battle is not the same. And mine doesn’t have two sides; it has many.

There is no good or bad, wrong or right side to my battle because a) there are more than two sides and b) if I knew which side was right, don’t you think I would have resolved this war?

So coming back to the point, I’m battling the different parts of myself:

The part of me that believes that our education system retards creativity versus the part of me that wants to get into a good college.

The part of me that doesn’t care what other people think of me versus the part of me that got upset when a boy called me a hypocritical airhead.

The part of me that yearns for human interaction versus the part of me that dislikes most of the people I meet.

The part of me that feels horrible when I say something against a person versus the part of me believes that differing opinions need to be expressed to bring about change.

The part of me that wants to stand out, but only in the ways which are socially acceptable.

The part of me that wants to have all the freedoms of being an adult versus that part that desperately clings to the shreds of childhood I have left.

The part of me that refuses to fall for the stereotypes the media subconsciously urges us to believe versus the part of me that tries to conform to ‘pretty’ almost every time I go out.

The part of me that knows I need to exercise more often because my health is deteriorating rapidly versus that part of me that just doesn’t exercise, because, exercise.

The part of me that rebels against high school drama versus the part of me that feels insufficient if I’m not involved in a high school drama.

The part of me that believes I’m special versus the part of me that thinks I’m just another human walking on a planet millions of human have walked on before.

I’m a walking, talking hypocrite inside. But isn’t everybody?