A Cure for Broken Shoulders

When the rain gravitates towards you

be still, my dear.

Be still and let it touch you

like a lover’s breath on broken shoulders.

 

It sings quite softly, my dear,

but when it does, I swear to you,

the world stops spinning to

let the stars sing along.

 

You’ll feel the tune escape your lips

and your soul will dance in bliss,

Be still, my dear, and let the lover’s

breath write stories of magic on your skin.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mulberry Wings

I would give you a long explanation over why I wrote this poem, but it is unnecessary. Just look at it as an expression of anger against all forms of rape and abuse that exist. 

 

The first time i knew the meaning of consolation

was a breath of warm air into my ear,

air that smelled faintly of humour-laced

words and cigarettes, telling me

‘Shhh, you’ll be fine now.’

And I remember looking at his dark

brown eyes and the pockmarks

on his skin as he said this, and the bruise on

my knee stopped throbbing quite as much.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.” I said

as he smiled back at me.

They say how an adult reacts to a situation

has a psychological impact on the child’s

reactions, but those are big words, and I

was but a small child,

and those words to me had nothing to do

with logic

and everything to do with magic.

 

 

 

Years later, I stand in front of the full length mirror,

like a broken sparrow with mulberry wings

and haunted eyes,

and I try to form the same words

but choke up mid-way,

as I see his form approaching,

once so familiar,

now so strange,

as I see his hands reach for me

I realised what words I

once thought were magic

in the way they healed me

were the words that had broken

me in the first place:

he whispers into my ear,

‘Shhh, you’ll be fine now.’

 

 

 

Hiraeth

I plunge my fingers into the ocean

we call the sky and sift through the dreamy

translucent layers that are wings of

a broken butterfly hunched over

with sunlight streaming  and i

play with the wispy clouds

like puffs from a fine cigar and

watch as the birds stretch their wings

to feel the wind bite into their

throats one last time and the ball of fire

that is saying goodbye drenches my nails

in liquid colours until they become

fire themselves

and one by one the stars appear

like a glimpse of a past long forgotten

guided by the imposter that brightens

the inky black of the nights

and my hands submerge into the sky

that swaddles its baby like a warm

blanket spotted with patches of

swirls and a bosom

of motherly affection,

the infinite that keeps us in place.

 

 

Dream-catcher

AN: Dismal day today. Current mood can be captured by A Fine Frenzy’s ‘Goodbye my Almost Lover’.

The dream-catcher came in a little

blue box with silk wrapping

and a satin ribbon, my fingers

gently

clasping the little

strings of hope

woven together

in a cacophony of connections

and I hid it under my pillow

as I closed my eyes,

hoping,

that this time

when your dimpled smile and

shaggy hair starred in my dreams,

it may do what I

could not

catch

you.

Hidden Conversations

“GO” I screamed.

Please don’t, my heart whispered.

“But…” he stuttered.

I don’t want to, his heart pleaded.

“I love you.” he mumbled.

Me too, my heart ached.

“Well, I don’t.” I snapped.

Don’t lie, his heart beseeched.

“Okay, then.” we said together

wiping our hands clean off dust

I’ll miss you, our hearts chimed together

silent fractures achingly exposed

You should leave, now.

I need you by my side.

I’ll collect my belongings tomorrow.

Don’t break my heart like this!

It’s all for the best.

My world is falling apart.

Good luck, then.

Hug me and say it’ll be okay.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

Goodbye.

The sounds of the man

and the sounds of the woman

and the sounds of their hearts

echoed forever in

the strange silence

that followed

and

never left.

Make A Wish

The sunlight landed on the streamers

taped clumsily across the wall

chocolate frosted cake on the table

twenty pairs of eyes blinked at me

hands clapping in glee

“Make A Wish. Blow the Candle”.

mum’s voice blew into my ear

And I wished

that i could eat the icecream

from the cart

across the park

and I wished that

she would buy me that blue

car I had seen in the store.

A group of giggling teenagers

sat huddled across

on a warm bed sharing

snacks and stories

“It’s 11:11! Make A Wish”

they whispered,

And I wished,

that I was more thinner

and less freckled

and that the boy with the

hair like gold

and eyes like emeralds

would walk over and

say hi.

It was a long drive

over endless plains and

the dark sky was lit by

stars scattered

we stopped for a while,

laid down on the sand,

“It’s a shooting star! Make A Wish!”

he pointed,

And I wished,

that my dead baby would

come back gurgling

and playing in my arms

and that

my heart would

start

feeling again.

The fountain was crowded

by hopes and dreams

and I clutched the

penny

skeptically in my palm

“Throw the coin. Make A Wish.”

the signboard promised

and tears in my eyes

and a fervent prayer on my lips,

I wished,

I wished hard to go back

to those times

when my only

wish was

something to eat

&

something to play with.

Iridescent

I’ve always been

white light

as far

back as I recollect

pure

&

drab

then you came

dark swirls

of

lust

over my limbs

knotted

legs and

scratched

backs

peppered kisses

&

stolen glances

heart raced faster

adrenaline

coursed

through veins

they tried

to

tell me

“It’s all wrong;

white is white

black is black

and that

would

never change”

but

you see,

that is the problem (in its entirety)

when I’m

with you

I don’t exist

you don’t exist

I’m not white

you’re not black

we

remain,

together,

iridescent.

Frayed

“I’d like some rope please.”

“I’ll fetch it for you, beta, just a moment.”

“Won’t you hurry, sir? I’m in a bit of a rush.”

“I’m getting them, just wait.”

“Yes, that’s perfect.”

“That’d be 500 rupees.”

“500?! But that’s too much.”

“It’s the finest quality, beta. It

will help you well.”

“Alright.”

“I’d like some sheets of paper please.”

“Ruled or Un-ruled, beta?”

“Un-ruled.”

“How many?”

“Five. I’d also like five envelopes, and a blue pen.”

“That’d be 100 rupees.”

“100?! But that’s too much.”

“It’s the finest quality, beta. It

will help you well.”

“Alright.”

“I’d like to purchase that stool, please.”

“This one, beta?”

“Yes, that very one.”

“We have different colours also, and dif-“

“No, I want this very one.”

“That’ll be 600 rupees.”

“600?! But that’s too much.”

“It’s the finest quality, beta. It

will help you well.”

“Alright.”

He trodded

down the narrow gravel path

his

head spinning

slightly

his hands burnt

around the edges

practising

knots

His empty

apartment

said hello

he nodded back and

said goodbye

went to the room

wrote the letters

tied the rope

and hung

himself

all the while thinking

that the cost

of his

life

had been 1200 rupees.

Quick Review

Hello, again! I’ve vanished from the blogging scene for a long while (cons of being an adult and having responsibilities now).

Okay, not many responsibilities.

Okay, no responsibilities.

Okay, I’m barely an adult.

Okay, okay, I forgot my password to WordPress and was too lazy to reset it.

But, I did get around to it now, didn’t I? (don’t roll your eyes at me, reader.)

I have read tons of books in the past month and I’m going to rank them in backwards order for you now, so enjoy:

Rank 8: Finding Audrey, by Sophie Kinsella

If you know me at all, you’d know that Sophie Kinsella is my all time favorite chick-lit author. I LOVE HER. That being said, I didn’t enjoy the book. There’s no use sugarcoating it. I mean, I still do love her writing, but unlike Luke Brandon or Becky Bloomwood or Sam Roxton or Samantha, the characters here in this book don’t stay with me. In fact, it’s been a month but apart from Audrey, whose name I remember for obvious reasons (re: title), I don’t really remember anybody and that goes to show how less of an impact it has made on me.

The story was okay, the idea was actually really nice, but for me a Sophie Kinsella book has always been about the characters and somehow, these characters didn’t cut it.

BUT. The story is actually funny in a lot of places, the writing friendly and affable and very Kinsella, and it can definitely star as a one-time leisure read. (Unlike I’ve got your number, which I do know by heart by now…or maybe that’s because Sam Roxton…hmmm…)

Rank 7: Bet Me, by Jennifer Cruise

Okay, this ranks 7 only only only because the other books are extremely good. This book is light, chirpy, and everything you could expect out of a chick-lit. Minerva and Cal are two adorable protagonists, the situation overdone but comforting, and the entire book is SO DAMN RELATABLE.

I don’t know, I think it highlights how insecure we all are as humans and the idea of soulmates being finding someone who is messed up in a way that fits our own mess perfectly…ah, dream.

Cuddle in on a rainy day, grab a hot chocolate, and read away…

Rank 6: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

Let me be frank. I’m not one for the classics. I like my reading language to be in something I can understand easily, and relate to. But then again, I couldn’t really not read Jane Eyre and call myself a reader, right?

I think I can effectively review this entire book in one sentence: Jane Eyre has changed my view on Classic Literature. It is not boring (as previously thought by my hasty, jump-to-conclusions, brain), and there is definitely something to be said about the entire concept of a guy ‘courting’ a girl, as opposed to simply jumping in bed with her.

Of course, there are several elements that are a tad bit too dramatic, but I AM from India, and we DO have Bollywood, so I’m pretty used to drama….hehe.

PS: Um, why don’t we have more girls fan-ning over the sulky, brooding, mystery-man?

Rank 5: The Goldfinch by Donna Tart

I don’t think it’d be a great exaggeration to call this book a Literary Masterpiece. Gripping, beautifully written and achingly beautiful, the world of Theo Decker is going to grip you. Quite simply, it is un-put-downable. I’m going to quote one line used in the book:

You can look at a picture for a week and never think of it again. You can also look at a picture for a second and think of it all your life.

All I can say is, the same can be said for books…and The Goldfinch definitely belongs in the ‘all your life’ category

Rank 4: A Pale View of Hills by Kazuo Ishiguro

He’s a brilliant author. His writing is so easy to read and so difficult to understand and aaaah-! He kept me awake till nearly 2 in the morning, and then a further 2 hours researching interpretations.

It is a mind-boggling tale, and while I have my own fragile theories on the book, read this is you want an adventure. It’s set in Japan, follows Etsuko and will definitely tease your brain. However, just because the writing is simple, please don’t read it fast…it’s meant to be a slow read with attention to detail…

….and who knows, maybe you will solve the mystery that is this book?

Rank 3: The Essential Rumi (Coleman Barks)

I have become a poetry enthusiast of late. BUT, I need to confess that I’ve loved Rumi before tumblr posted his “deep sayings” everywhere.

Rumi is soul-food, and I’ll leave you with a lovely line titled under ‘Bewilderment: I have five things to say’

What is the body? That shadow of a shadow

of your love, that somehow contains

the entire universe.

Rank 2: The Bronze Horseman by Paulina Simmons

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH ALEXANDERRRRRRRRRRR

Phew, now that THAT is out of my system, I can begin. I stumbled upon this book randomly, started it, and did not stop until I finished the 800-or-so paged book. For hours, I was stumbling along the roads of Leningrad and hiding in bomb shelters, living with Alexander-nay, Shura and Tania in a Fifth Soviet building, and dissolving through the magic of her words.

If there is something called magical writing, this is it. The words make me tingle. There are extremely raunchy scenes, definitely, fast-paced and thrilling. But it’s the tenderness beneath it all that made me gasp for more. This book is a MUST READ, simply because of master storytelling, excellent gems of quotes drizzled in between, and for Shura- because he is every girl’s dream.

Love is when he is hungry and you feed him. Love is knowing when he is hungry.

You also have delightfully simple love-murmurings wrapped in silk,

I want you to know that should something happen to me, don’t worry about my body. My soul isn’t going to return to it, nor to God. It’s flying straight to you, where it knows it can find you, in Lazarevo. I want to be neither with kings nor heroes, but with the queen of Lake Ilmen.

And, one of my all time favorites (I may or may not have teared up at this part),

Good-bye, my moonsong and my breath, my white nights and golden days, my fresh water and my fire. Good-bye, and may you find a better life, find comfort again and your breathless smile, and when your beloved face lights up once more at the Western sunrise, be sure what I felt for you was not in vain. Good-bye and have faith, my Tatiana.

RANK 1: *tananannana* Essential Gibran (Hachette India)

Refer to Rank 3 where I mentioned I had become a poetry enthusiast. Khalil Gibran is my all-time favorite poet, and my dad got me a Special Calligraphed collectible edition of his poetry for my birthday. It is marvellous, it makes me tingle from my belly and if you want words that will worm your way into their heart of yours and refuse to leave, this is the book you should be reading. Here is just one poem, to tempt you to go read the book:

If sorrow does not carry you

in her womb, if despair does not

feel pain in giving birth to you,

and if love does not bring you

into this world in its cradle of dreams,

your whole life

remains a blank page in the book

of the universe.

And that wraps up the quick review for this month. I have a couple of interesting reads (and consequent reviews, yes) lined up for the next month, but let me know if you have some suggestions!

Quick Reviews

Hey there :3 Yes, I know it’s been terribly long since I’ve posted anything…but, guess what? My college started. Woot woot. And it’s a really tight schedule, so you may have to get used to the really slow posts.

I thought I’d do a quick review thing for all of you. So in the past month, I’ve read: The Devil wears Prada, How to Fall in love, Diary of a young girl and Life of Pi. I’m also halfway through The girl with the Dragon Tattoo and The five people you meet in heaven. (I also finally caught up with The Hunger Games and the Divergent series. But I’m not reviewing that, it’s really too late.)

So maybe that’s not TOO many. But in the past month, I’ve also had one surgery, one trip to Goa, one trip to Mumbai and a lot of movie time. And college. Can’t forget college. ( Socializing, stalking yada yada yada). I’ve finished five seasons of How I met your Mother (yes, I’m aware the ending sucks) and three seasons of Dr.Who. That’s a well spent one month.

Quick reviews work like this. I review them based on rank. From most favorite, to least preferred.

RANK 1 GOES TO….*drumroll*

Life of Pi, by Yann Martel.

I’m sure a lot of you would have watched the movie. In reality, the movie is just a less-graphic, more toned down version of the book. Both are mind-blowing, they question religion, they question morals and values and imagination. It is beyond amazing, but it is DEFINITELY NOT FOR THE QUEASY.

Notice how I both, capitalized AND bolded that statement. I mean it. Unless you want to know exactly how a zebra looks with its limbs torn apart and head severed.

(PS it is that bad. I’m not exaggerating.)

But my god, I’ve not read such a fantastic book in a while. So go read it. It’s first on the list today.

Rank 2 goes to

Diary of a young girl (Anne Frank)

Okay so I’m really late in reading this, and yeah you can judge. But it’s a great book, appreciable in general. However, I did find The boy in the striped Pyjamas better. Anne Frank’s story, though, is a constant reminder of how human nature can be so destructive. It’s sad, really.

Rank 3 goes to

The Devil wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger

SEXY BOOOOOOOK. It’s a typical chick-lit novel, fun and a light read. Nothing too taxing on the head.

Rank 4 goes to

How to Fall in Love by Cecilia Ahern

I’m sorry, but I really didn’t like the book. It wasn’t much of anything, didn’t leave an impact either. It was okay, with a rather cliche story that reminded me of Bollywood’s Anjaana Anjaani. It was…eh…okay.

Books in line:

1) Finish 5 people you meet in heaven.

2) The Cuckoo’s Calling

3) Unaccustomed Earth

4) Silent House

5) Bridget Jones

6) A couple of David Baldacci

7) Sita

8) Be careful what you wish for

9) Half of a yellow sun.

Any previews for me ?

So there you have it. The quick reviews for this month. Stay tuned for more posts. (heheheh wuut.)

 

Review: The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas.

images-22

I am of the belief that there are a few kind of books.

1) The ones that you can’t get past ten pages.

2) The ones that you forcibly make yourself finish it, and then just feel relief once it is done.

3) The ones that leave you in a happy glow with that silly soppy smile on your face, and a sparkle in your eye, and then you begin comparing reality to the book and want to curse at how unfair reality is and WHERE THE HELL IS MY PRINCE CHARMING.

4) The books that leave you sobbing.

5) And then there is The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. It didn’t leave me sobbing. It left me stricken. I literally gaped at the ending, open-mouthed, willing for it to miraculously change, and when it didn’t I shut the book. Found a lovely spot on the wall. And then glared at it.

This was at 1 in the morning. I glared at the wall and then when the wall looked like it was beginning to shrink with all the hate coming from me, I left it alone and closed my eyes. This book was indescribably. The ending, while ghastly, was perfect to give me a jolt.

Nazi, the Holocaust, everything. We’ve heard it all. And it’s always made me sad, don’t get me wrong. I’ve choked up when I saw the bodies, and felt tears stinging at my eyes when I heard stories.

But I’ve never had one impact me as much as this one did. I’m not going to give you spoilers, so you can breathe a little.

And maybe go online and order the book NOW NOW NOW NOW before you continue reading this review.

Yeah, I know the movie is amazing. But that DOES NOT excuse you from reading this book because of the narrative.

It started off simple and sweet. It reminded me, in fact, of an Enid Blyton novel. Simply because the kid was 9.

And then I read the meaning beneath the words. And that was SO profound, I gasped the entire time. The way Bruno called The Fuhrer as The Fury. Not realizing what he was saying.

Heil Hitler,” he said, which, he presumed, was another way of saying, “Well, goodbye for now, have a pleasant afternoon.”

It’s funny when you look through the eyes of a nine-year old, but because you have the mind of a whatever-you-are-years old, you know EXACTLY what that poor kid is seeing.

And then you want to scream and flail your arms and shake him so violently, and say, “BRUNO. THIS. THIS IS WHAT IS HAPPENING.”

But unfortunately there hasn’t been invented a device where we can go inside the book and be of some use to the protagonist, as yet. And so we watch, silent miserable spectators rooted to our spots as we witness the crimes committed around him.

I especially love how he refers to his sister as the Hopeless Case. Yes, capitalized. I adored the writing style because it takes a great deal of talent to fit SO MUCH of depth and meaning in simple words.

Despite the mayhem that followed, Bruno found that he was still holding Shmuel’s hand in his own and nothing in the world would have persuaded him to let go.

 

This quote. ^ This is what broke me, in the end. And when I say broke, I mean it. When I recounted the story to my mum today, I was literally quivering and I had goosebumps all over.

This book is a MUST-READ and I don’t use that simply. I mean it. All the history books in the world that have recounted tales from Nazi Germany pale in comparison in terms of how much you are affected.

I WANT TO BREAK SOMETHING. NOW.

I’ve never been this emotional, writing a review. But I felt that I would do it justice only in this state. When I am still imprinted and scarred by all those visuals I have in my head.

Read it, I implore you. Yes, IMPLORE. Gah. And remember, read between the lines. For that is where this most depth lies.

“What exactly was the difference? he wondered to himself. And who decided which people wore the striped pajamas and which people wore the uniforms?”