A haiku everyday: Motley

Hello everybody, hope you are doing well?

word of the day: Motley (adjective, noun). Meaning: incongruously varied in appearance or character; disparate

Synonyms: varied, eclectic, miscellaneous

Every day I see

A motley of emotions

Dancing inside me

The beauty that fails to die

Dear words,

Did you ever know that you would be stringed together

With the last or the middle letter to form a necklace I would love to wear?

Dear music,

Did you ever know that a little tap here and a string there

Would melt my heart and soothe my soul?

Dear capsicum,

Did you ever know how green would look on you

As you wore that colour and carried that crispness to lure me in?

Dear Dark Chocolate,

Did you ever know that you bitterness would glide

And arouse someone even as you would melt in their bodies?

Dear Flowers,

Did you ever know that your petals would add vigour

Joy and hope as lay there dead, bringing someone alive?

Dear water,

Did you know how gracefully you could flow, in reality

And in metaphor, washing away my fears and pain?

Dear love,

Did you ever know the many hearts you would touch in a lifetime

Aching, breaking and uniting forever?

Dear Beauty,

Did you ever know how musical you would sound

As I would utter your being in my whisper?

There’s a book lying on the shelf…waiting to be picked

 Ever thought which words shall whisper into your dreams or crawl under your pillow as you lay there, opening a case of pages, immersing yourself into a world far away from ‘reality’? Oh! too long a sentence, was it? Some sentences like it brief. Some like to stretch their muscles nice and long, some like it crisp. Some like it warm. Some like it cold. Some like it fluffy. Some like it flat. Some like to rise. Some like to wallow. As each word dips itself into the last drop of hot chocolate lying besides your lamp, it kisses your lips, quenches your tongue of the longing you’ve always had, slowly entering your bloodstream, permeating the cell boundaries, only to enter the nucleus and make you feel the feel of the words you just tasted.

Your intuition calls you. It slowly rises from ashes, the one you never thought belonged to you, becomes a molecule and fuses with your spirit. In moments of oblivion, when the chatter outside makes you deaf; in moments of catastrophe, when the pieces of self look at themselves, all broken and shattered; in moments of elation, amidst smiles filled with glee, a voice speaks, only to find us no one around. Who do you think it was? Cum’on! I answered it right in the big-inning of the sentence.

As I read the text on language, it’s development and theories, words called me. My body felt hot with all the heat that the city was giving away. They contrarily felt cold. I invited them over. We had a chat, a very small one, just when Yalom wrote “Patients will resist your disclosure”. Our chat was mere a thought which was blank. No word spoken at my end yet understood by them. They knew it reached me. However I knew it too, yet I didn’t understand what chord they struck in me. Some are magic, they are all smoky, light, enchanting, vague and alluring. A swoosh! And they are gone, leaving behind a feeling unnamed.

Did I know Yalom would invite me for having breakfasts, lunches and suppers? No! actually Yes! We all carry answers to our questions we never think we will ever be able to answer. We reach out to those we think shall know. Why? The heart needs comforting, my friend. Far away in the corners of the heart lies a part which hears nothing but words. Words written are what it listens to; those that play music which enters the soul, so gradually, making them feel a part of our veins. The next time somebody invites you to open the pages to their world, give it a thought “Why now? Why them? Why You?” and may be as you shall ask the why’s, more shall emerge as more shall die.

            

Currently reading: Gift of Therapy by Irving Yalom

On the list: Tuesdays with Morrie, Illusions and There’s no such place as Far Away by Richard Bach

P.S: I'm on Goodreads, let me know if you wish to join:)

C( Qu)oated*

Be glad that you don’t have instant manifestation. This buffer of time is really your friend. It’s your opportunity to observe and to ponder and to visualize, and to remember. It’s your opportunity to take an Emotional Journey that might be different from what you’re actually observing.~ Abraham

Before it could even start, I had a lump in my throat; an imagined one. You know how memories haunt you, as you lived your life trying to escape the moments which were only running towards you, following you like ghosts of the past, the past you never know would turn out on you, only till the time you were in present, for real.

Experiencing a vacuum is a phase which many of us have lived and those who have not may wait for. Life being itself has its ways of helping you experience myriads of emotions, only if you stay connected to them (myriad: how I love this word). Of course, vacuum has no air. It makes you feel breathless.  You live, only to question. You live, with anguish that burns through your skin. You live, with your heart that wanders to a place you’ve never been to. You live and that my dear friends, is the sole problem! Why? Cause it’s not really a happy place to be in. Yet it’s a place you ought to be in, in that very moment.

Having been in that vacuum before, the memories rushed through the mind, like blood rushes through the veins, in that fight-or-flight mode. “What if it happens again?”, “This time I shall definitely get crazy!” Work being the most important part of our lives makes its presence felt so vividly that you invariably get dependent on it, not just for income but for time’s sake too. And there stands the time laughing at you, as you walk past it hurriedly for the bus to catch, the metro to ride, or the breakfast gulped in few bites, only to see you walk back with fatigue in your bones and years added to your soul. For the lives that love their work and consider it a blessing, I offer my smiles to you, for those who complain, I offer my hand to you, come along, feel the vacuum, if you must, for it answers those questions you always ran away from. READ, beckon your soul’s voice and you shall be freed!

Not having any work after you have spent your two years of existence, slogging, writhing in pain, fatigue, exhaustion, can be difficult. Work has a powerful way of taking your life away from you even as you live each day to work! It’s a mystical charm that cloaks itself on your life hiding away the true facts, until you see them in your dreams or feel them as a ‘déjà vu’ or daydreams as you nonchalantly swift through your daily chores.

This time, the vacuum beckons me on and off. The grace of words calms me down. Both their words, are soaked in, one who holds the wand of mighty thoughts and the other where death does the talking. There is one more writer who needs to be allowed to enter the doors. His time shall soon come. When will yours?

* read as coated and quoted at once!

Thank you Leo, for the lovely prompt:) Link up at a prompt each day to get your words flowing.

Earth with-out the Sun

“How did you feel when you fell in love?”

“You want to know?”

“Ahan”

“My smiles were the widest ever. My mind didn't feel tired even as I managed to sleep only for two hours out of elation. To know that there is somebody, in this big world, wanting to offer you all the love they carry inside your heart is an extremely extra-ordinary feeling. That is how I felt that night, my dear. My heart fell at peace for having won the battle against my mind, which gave me its erroneous reasons to stay away. One of my dearest friends gave me a sign to take the plunge. I’m only glad I did. The days that followed that mid night of confession were nothing short of bliss. 

Every date would strum a melodious string of the heart. The heart still keeps discovering the unstrung notes and skips a heart beat here and there. Perhaps that's what they call 'still in love'.

You know dear, when I think about us, all I feel is peace, glee and solitude. It’s like the grass wakes up every morning with the warmth and delight than the Sun offers to her. Looking up at him, she smiles. In that smile are all the conversations that are sacred, solemn and enchanting.

Sacred secrets stored

Serene streams sway

Luxurious lake’s lather

Lullabies lover’s laughs

 Even as I wish to proclaim my love for the Sun, it’s the winters that testify my shivers to the world.

The days that he comes by, the chill disappears, and warmth seeps through the soul. His presence and absence are duly felt inside the chambers of my very existence. And let me leave it at this:

“ What would the Earth be with-out the Sun?” 

Inspired by : The movie, Blue Valentine

Beautiful I'm

haloooo! Linking at Blublubling on the second day of Awesome April!!:) Today's prompt, the pic below: 

You know darling,

I looked in the mirror,

Asked myself,

How much weight is fine?

How much flesh do I let dangle?

How much skin can I show?

My thighs screamed,

My legs, oh! so ugly,

My arms hanging with mass,

And then I looked at my picture,

In the frame I smiled,

My eyes gleamed with shimmer,

You know why?

Coz I know ‘I’m beautiful,

As I am,

With what I am!

©Aakriti

P.S: This poem was written with an Anorexic body in mind. As I have been learning about Anorexia in my Gender and Studies Psychology classes, I feel there's a lot we need to understand. 

It's sad that while the prevalent discourses have always been more oppressive for women viz a viz their body,its only NOW that men have begun to feel pressure with respect to their bodies. These words were just a small attempt to bring to notice how precious we people are regardless of what our body types and the ones we try to fit in. The truth is for a women there is no perfect body, it's an idea, almost an illusion which creates a havoc!