My Pisces Girl

Born between a merciless winter and an enchanting spring
She tries to bring joy wherever she goes
But gets bored of staying at same place and she moves on
In search of new experiences and ideas
Because she is confused of what exactly she wants

Even though she shouts out 100 times she is selfish
Deep inside she has always been selfless
She forgets not because she has a poor memory but
Because she forgives and people call her clueless for that

Creative she is …..sees the beauty of a sunrise
And the sadness of a fallen flower
Distracted by a bird’s chirp
Splashes of colour ,a train of words
Is enough to keep her busy for the day

She rather adapts than resists
But deep inside she remains the same passionate dreamer
She fights because she fears humiliation
And hides away from the sun to escape a silly burn

Full of contradictions …..emotions pulling her apart
She tosses a coin when in a dilemma
But she tosses it again and again till she gets what she wants
She makes her own luck and chooses her path

An idol job for her will be that of a librarian
So she could fool around with books
But even more exciting will be to travel to Amazon
And to get a snap of an unknown species

She likes to remain unique and special
But she knows everyone is unique and special so that plan fails
She chose black ink over blue ink
Not because she likes black, but because blue ink is so common

She has a strong heart but when it is broken
It’s hard to patch it up again
But as time goes on she heals herself and
We could see her singing and dancing again
Simple wishes make up her day
Sometimes for a clear sky so that she could go for a walk
Sometimes for a rain so that she could drench in it
There are two true loves in her life
Her family and the beautiful nature
How could she ask for anything more?

Sometimes she is a lazy bones
Being a couch potato all day long
Saying she is relaxing her muscles and bones
And it won’t be too bad if she could win a lottery
And travel the world and spend all the money
Dinner at a 5 –star hotel and breakfast at a roadside shack
Life in luxury as well as in ruins
At last she will come home and say
I did miss my home and I was a fool to leave it

She is sensitive to insensitive people
Thoughts flow to her as her tears flow down
A girl who hoped magic to be true
She has always preferred fantasy over reality
And that is my pisces girl

Notes:

"Those of who know me well, may recognize which pisces girl I am talking about in this poem"

Star gazing

When I was little I used to ask a lot of questions like any other child growing up. A lot of curiosity and imagination drove my life back then. My dad & I used to watch stars at night when I was little….He was not that interested but he accompanied me. The one thing I love about him is that whenever I asked him a difficult question he tried to stick to the facts. Its difficult to explain to a 3 year old the science behind why stars glow but he tried to explain it to me and didn’t invent stories like they are glitters that god has thrown over the sky, and that kind of absurd stories. Even though I didn’t understand it that well he used to say stars glowed because there is gas on them and its burning to give light.  As a grew up I learned more about it and I felt grateful to my father because he tried to give me reasonable answer to my childhood curiosities. Still I imagined things, I thought if I looked long enough at the stars they will look back on me…  it was a time of expectations….truly stupid and fantastic expectations……

                  But times have changed I don’t do star gazing anymore. I cannot see the star clearly as before……city smog has hidden most of the little stars ,only the bright ones have overcome the ugliness made by pollution. And I don’t any longer worry about the complications of universe or its mysteries because its charm has been long lost for me along with other childhood fascinations. I think about things that matter in my daily life……. to be a better human being, to be a good daughter, to be a trustful friend. I have asked my dad why we keep on loving dead people…….. why we r crying over something that is not ever gone come back, they say don’t cry over spilt milk…but crying for the dead is kind of like that…nothing is going to rewrite what have already happened. I think its funny when people say they are going to rewrite history…how can they do that? not even God can change our past… But it is better to cry out our distress than holding all inside and waiting for a tempest to break out inside us.I am not talking about being a crybaby at every turn of difficulties in life… but there are certain situations where tears can do wonders....... the time of crying gives me time to think, and not do or say anything stupid .

               But my father can’t help me with answers now, he tries to comfort me but he also can’t answer all my philosophical questions. And sometimes I keep on wondering and wondering till I scold myself….. girl you are hopeless….. come on…… get a life and move on. So I wake up from my slumber and I am again back to my books, time-killing and usual rational stuff that humans generally do… .One more thing ……I am an idiot in philosophical thinking and it is not my field. Hmmmmm…….I do learn lessons quickly nowadays ……

Alone

One day a little girl was running alone through the streets

She ran so wild and fast that she fell down

She let her wounds open and bleeding

So that she won’t forget the mistakes she made

Heeling might make her mistakes oblivious

She thought about her life

It was an age of questions and doubts

All she knew is she alone…she came to the world

Alone…and she will say goodbye to it alone

Alone in her thought s & dreams

Alone in her fights & dilemmas

Why go for companionship when

Happiness or sadness comes

So she has learned to trust herself

And listen to her conscience

All she knew is she is the creator and destroyer

Of her own happiness

A part of my soul

Falling in love with life..

Falling head over heels in all pleasures

Swaying and melting in with a melody…….

My dreams are on fire..

Adrenaline rush at top..ready for anything that life throws at me

Sneering at all those questions

Because all life has is questions and no answers

So why should I search for true answers

When there are million possibilities of answering a question

I answer as I please… to please my arrogance and self-importance

I live in bubble protected by family, love and care

What happens when I am all alone?

When all my efforts are futile

And my imaginary bubble of protection breaks

I will be as vulnerable as a grass in a storm

My mother says new people will come to my life and

I won’t miss what I had lost

How could I afford to forget my past

How could I let my memories blur when I get new people

I can’t let myself laugh without my family

I want them to be engraved to my soul

How much it hurts doesn’t matter…

Let a part of my soul be kept for them

I will cope with what is left

The colour of beauty

The colour discrimination is so into the grass root levels in our Indian society. That means from grandparents to grandchildren all are in praise of the fair skinned beauties. They say the beauty is in the eyes of beholder but still some have some kind of ‘black blindness’…they don’t see the beauty in black coloured skin..One look at the black coloured skin they write it off as ugly and they don’t give a damn about how beautiful they are…Its like the preliminary test of being beautiful is fair skin and if they fail in having the basic qualification of being fair skin they are failed in the being beautiful test
What made me so frustrated is a question my grandmother asked today. My neighbour gave birth to a baby and the first thing my grandma asked after knowing that the baby is a girl is whether she was fair or dark. It’s not only my grandmother but some others also asked that question. I feel so ashamed when I hear that. I mean not even animals discriminate their babies on the basis of colour but still I see that around me.
This colour discrimination in India have roots from the time Aryans came to India about 2000 years ago (there is still controversy over when exactly they came….)..According to historians the Aryans where fair – skinned ones and they hated the original inhabitants who were dark skinned they called them ‘dasa varna’..so ‘varna’ means colour. Then and there was born the concept of low caste having dark-coloured skin…
Our society is so good at picking up bad habits I just wish they won’t pass the colour prejudice to the younger generation. I wish my grandma would stop bugging me to use turmeric on my face to increase my skin glow . Even though I repeatedly tell her that I am happy with my wheatish colour and all ..she just feels that I am trying to hide my disappointment of not having a fair skin. During my childhood times she even made up a story that if I sit near white people I will get more fairer and if I sit near black people I get darker. She may not have thought about the ripples that piece of information made in a young mind. It’s by God’s grace that I got over the whole concept of colour prejudice. I love my grandmother for so much other things but I feel disappointed when she sneers at black coloured people. It’s not just about my grandmother there is lot of others in the society who behave worse than my grandmother. For example, the TV ads of fairness cream. How absurd, stupid and freakingly painful they are..a dark coloured girl who uses the particular fairness cream … she becomes fair within 4 weeks and some prince charming comes and marry her.. if she remains dark(that is if she doesn’t use the fairness cream) you could guess the rest she will have to settle for a secondary type of guy.. no prince charming because prince charming only likes fair girls... I know advertisements doesn’t exactly give morals but when I think about the people who made that advt concept… they are the so called new generation and they are worse than my grandma…………