February

I have absolutely no idea why I didn’t post anything for so long and why I am writing this right now. I am at a loss of words to describe how light headed I am feeling right now. By my right, on the table stand, sits a cup of green tea – rather majestically – staring at me with it’s ,well, judging eyes because I have abandoned it to write this shitty post which has absolutely no meaning and is not going to help you guys in any way but I still felt like I owe this cutie blog a post. I mean, no one should be ignored. Sentranced is family. And family means no one is left behind. So here I am, trying to let you guys know that I am still very much active on the blog, that I am not dead and that I still love to read. Maybe I will do a book review the next time but I am not quite sure because the way I feel now, with nothing in my head, I kinda like that feeling so maybe I will be enjoying that a little more – while I can.

“Love me, baby” Ha, sure, you son of a bitch!

If there is one thing which last year has taught me is that the more you care about people, the more likely you are to be hindered in things which are most important to you. I have had to face numerous failures just because I was too afraid to let go of the people I love and I was too naïve to realize that those people, on the other hand, did not give a damn whether I lived or died, literally. I was a game. A game they thought they had played well. A game they thought they excelled at. So, here adds another resolution for this year – Do not give away your love as if it holds no true value. Stop showering worthless people with attention they clearly do not deserve. It’s better to be labelled bitter by a few than sacrificing your happiness and spending your valuable thoughts and time on pieces of shit. That is my advice to every Pisces out there because we tend to be really emotional over the smallest things and although we cannot exactly rule that out of our nature, we can try to be more selective in the ways we spend our love, attention, affection and tears. I mean, we will still be cry-baby but let’s just reserve those tears for Lord of The Rings, Dead Poet’s Society and Sherlock, of course.

Two letters

Dear Future Daughter,

The sun hadn’t broken through the misty sky yet. It was still dark and beautiful. It was quiet and mine. And this kind of environment gives you a lot of time to think about what you want, what you have been doing, what you want to do and why what is happening is happening. And this was exactly what I was doing at 4 in the morning a few days ago. With each brush of the cool, gentle air across my cheeks, my head became clearer and clearer and the position of the woman to whom I look up to became evident to me. Her mental position. What she goes through every day. No, it’s not anything too bad. It’s just how much her mind is troubled and how much she decided to tuck away in that deep mind of hers and doesn’t allow it to show on her face. Her husband is a very loving man or at least that is what I choose to believe. He cares for her but for selfish reasons. Because he knows that if she is gone, who will look after him? Provide him with the moral and emotional support every man needs from time to time to help him through the many struggles of life? But what he fails or maybe refuses to realise is that the same kind of care and tenderness is needed by his wife too. Desperately. But that is of little importance because she is so good at hiding her emotions and he, on the other hand, is not good enough to look past the thin veil. I remember when I related to her how Desdemona was killed by Othello due to suspicions based on jealousy. How he did not bother to ask his wife of the truth and how he could not look into the eyes of the woman he supposedly loved so much and could not discern whether she was telling the truth or not. And how, on the other hand, Desdemona still did not betray her husband when asked at her death bed about her killer. How she lied just to make sure that nothing ill befalls her husband when she is gone. I can distinctly hear the woman’s words now, what she said to me in reply to what I was referring to.

”It is a man’s universal nature, love. You cannot change that. He will always be the more jealous and he is subject to do things that he might regret later. We just have learn to live with it. No matter the evolution of the human race, a man’s pride and jealousy cannot be changed. We, as women, have to bear it.”

And at that time I wondered if it was her own experience that had led to such thoughts and convictions or was it her own mother who had passed on the words of wisdom to her daughter in order to make it known that ”it is a woman’s duty to maintain the marriage. To hold it all together as long as she can. And then, a bit longer.”

And it broke my heart when I realised that how much oppression they must have faced back in the day. If not physical, then mental which is worse still. How many harsh words her mother and her mother before that must have gobbled down the throat just because ”they must hold it together.”

To you, darling, I say, ”Screw that. Don’t be afraid of being single. Of being alone. Alone is fun. Alone means freedom. But never bow down to some douchebag who knows not how to respect someone’s emotions. And that person can be a man or a woman, it doesn’t matter. Find yourself someone worthy and until then, be alone. Don’t be afraid to break it off, no matter how many years you are into the shit. If you think it’s killing you, you have the right to leave and never look back. You were born to be happy. You were born to make your own choices. You were born to adore yourself. You were born to be with someone who can look into your eyes and know instantly that something’s wrong. With someone who respects your emotions. Never settle for less than that. Your mother never did.”

 

To her Future Husband,

If you are anything like what is described above, don’t bother!

 

 

 

Two Girls

Two girls sitting under a tree,

a rose in one’s hand, in other’s a chocolate for free.

Their Aunt is generous. She comes, now and then,

to scold their parents for the times when,

 

Didi was eight, Riya nine,

when their dad’s words mighty fine

choked their throats, bled their souls.

They sat, under the tree, crying alone.

When their mum pulled their hair and screamed,

‘Why did you happen to me?’

They cried and held each other while their parents fought a bitter fight.

 

Today was the same, yet again.

They sat under a tree,

the younger asked the elder,

‘Will we ever be free?’

– Rashi

 

Note: This is something I stand for. Because I know how fucked up emotions can destroy your life. Not a personal experience but it still hurts to be conscious of the fact that there are such children out there going through all this shit and not being able to stand up for themselves. Because, how can they? 

 

(Image via Pinterest – “…PSA ads by Juvenile Protective Association visually illustrate that “Verbal abuse is still abuse.” These ads were created by EuroRSCG Chicago, USA.”)

 

 

You

So, I read it…and wow! I mean, so beautifully written that I just had to reblog it. Kudos to Chris Nicholas. 🙂

The Renegade Press

If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die. That’s what they told you from the very start. If an author pines for you, you’ll be immortalized in their words. Your eloquence will be captured in their prose as they strum at the chords of your heart and kiss the innermost chambers of your naked soul. So let me take off your clothes and take you in my arms.

Let me enfold you. Let me take your heart in my hands and feel it beat my name. Let me be the air that fills your aching lungs and swells within your chest. I’ll breathe life into your soul and be the man who basks in a beautyfar greater than his own. Throw your bones against mine and feel the solidarity of my embrace. Let my kiss your skin, stroke your hair and settle your racing mind.

You…

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