The Importance of Men

Whether you want to admit it or not, men are very important in a woman's life. They shape her personality, outlook towards life and give her the courage to go out into the world and achieve impossible feats.

I'm grateful to be surrounded by all the strong men in my life - my father, my brother, my late grandfather, and even my stubborn little son.

I'm either constantly fighting with all of them or agreeing to everything they say. There's no in-between. I haven't taken a single life changing decision without consulting with them first. 

While my late grandfather applauded my little victories loudly, my father pushes me to do better every day, my brother tries very hard to teach me diplomacy and my little boy firmly stands his ground when we have a disagreement at home.

Perhaps my brain has been transformed into a pressure cooker of sorts or I've moulded myself into a lean, mean, fighting machine. (Just going to chuckle for 10 solid seconds in my head now).

As I was saying, it's extremely important as a woman to have some sort of a working relationship with all the men in your life. They're bold, fearless and strong. Those are values we must definitely imbibe in our lives as well. 

I've been told by my closest girlfriends that I'm in my masculine energy more than my feminine, especially since my husband passed away over 3 years ago. I honestly don't see how that's a bad thing. 

To all the strong men in our lives, let's cheer them everyday and give them a genuine listen, whenever they make sense of course.

Rejection is Redirection

Butter chicken is best paired with naan,

It's creamy, luscious and full of flavour, very different from mutton raan,

Try mixing both meats,

And it may not be palatable to eat,

Why shrink or expand yourself to a raan,

When you know your perfect pairing is with the naan,

Be yourself, whoever that may be,

A social bee,

Or a blunt, heart permanently on the sleeves,

In your face, rock-solid, oak tree,

I'm obviously not talking about food,

I'm simply channeling my current mood,

Which is to either sit and brood,

Or overthink, until my brain tells me, "how rude,"

So I'm just going to accept this rejection,

Like the luscious butter chicken that I am and quickly move in another direction. 

The Ups & Downs of Grief

Time was all it took,

To change my outlook,

On death and grief,

Our time together was far from brief,

When a reminder of him pops up,

It no longer blows up,

I felt all my feelings,

The good, the bad and the ugly, and that was the secret to my healing,

He's most definitely at peace,

Because my heart feels at ease,

I can only be grateful for all that love,

From up above,

I know he's probably stalking the life out of mine-me and me,

And hopefully everything he witnesses fills him with glee.

The Romantics

I wonder why romantics are called fools,

To open up your heart that wide, is in reality very very cool,

There's a 50% chance of meeting the love of your life,

And there's a 50% chance of your life going up in smoke and strife,

This doesn't stop the romantics though,

To keep going with the flow,

I'm convinced it's the ones of us with a broken heart,

That always wants to stay put and not dart,

We don't give up without a fight,

Until the very end is at sight,

To keep showing up, 

And never giving up,

Despite the very obvious cracks,

I think that's courage, to it's very max,

Doesn't hurt to be born into a family of fighters,

Each disappointing chapter, only makes me brighter,

I'm going to unburden my heart now,

Release and allow,

The memories to become a distant dream,

You did good heart, we make a great team.

Breathe In and Breathe Out

Things that are beyond your control,

Shouldn't make you want to crawl into a dark hole,

You gave it your best,

Now let it rest,

That's all you can do,

There's no need to feel blue,

Knowing that you gave it your all,

You stood tall,

During the good times and bad,

Especially the bad,

Now let go,

However slow,

You've been through worse,

Your feelings of disappointment are not a curse,

It just shows, your heart is still wide open,

Despite it being broken,

Chin up,

Rise up,

This too shall pass,

This sinking feeling you shall surpass.

Shallow

Strange this generation,

That keeps running away at the sight and smell of a foundation,

Everything is fun and games,

As long as jokes are being cracked, however lame,

The moment seriousness creeps in,

They choose to throw everything into the bin,

This shallow generation, with their petty games,

They'd rather throw everything into flames,

Than open their hearts,

And play their part,

The whole experience makes me feel numb,

But I know it was'nt dumb,

To have felt everything that I did,

I'll always be this person, unabashed and true, zero constricting lids,

This was clearly not my story,

This burden I must not carry.

Home Alone

Summers are the worst,

Not only do pimples form and burst,

It's also the time that the fam,

Abandons me to do their own jam,

They go on exciting holidays,

Leaving me to my devices and the blazing heat of May,

I'll miss my little bun,

And his sharp shooting mouth, ruthless as a gun,

As he kept crawling all over me,

In the middle of my morning stretches, his face full of glee,

I realised how empty my house would be,

My favourite three,

Go on exotic vacations, year after year,

As I'm left all alone, with no listening ears.

Extra

A Margherita pizza with extra cheese,

Would you eat that or go jeez?

If I had to describe myself as food, 

I'd be the extra on every dish, isn't that good?

I'm always all in or nothing,

Casual is not my thing,

I don't play around,

Or sit around,

My affections are loud,

My actions proud,

I'd move mountains for you,

Or completely back away if I realise none of it was true,

I'm not your prince charming who'd magically appear with your glass shoe,

If you pull a Cinderalla on me, I'd just wonder what I ever did to you,

For pretending to be dead, when you're very much alive,

Every shitty experience only makes me want to thrive,

I'll always continue to never be a ghost,

Closure to all, is a skill that I can brag about and boast,

Even your enemies deserve space in your heart,

I know I've converted most of mine into art,

Farewell dear ghost,

All those memories I've burnt to char and toast,

None of it was real,

And that was always the deal,

I get it now,

I wish I could have seen through it then, somehow.

Parallel Reality

How cool would it be, if I had to fight a Mind Flayer,

Instead, I'm a word document slayer,

How exciting, if I had to enter the Upside Down,

Instead in work, I drown,

How I wish, I could have a conversation with Vecna, with "Running up that hills", in the background,

Instead, I'm home-bound,

If I was Eleven, I'd eat fat-free eggnogs,

Be super cool, but still have all that brain fog,

I'd cycle all around Hawkins, keep secrets from adults,

And save the world, as a result,

Anywhere but here,

For Jim Hopper, I'll always cheer,

I'm clearly waiting for the next season,

Those imaginary demons,

I can't wait to see,

From reality, I just want to flee. 

Impossible Love Stories

Still a believer of impossible love stories,

Although at times, it's the root cause of our worries,

But love is messy and hard,

You either emerge out of the experience more loved or scarred,

Being afraid to open up,

Will only have you feeling blown-up,

There are no half-baked efforts in love,

You either give,

Or move out,

If you are in doubt,

It's mostly likely not love,

The feeling is crystal clear and heavenly, like it's been sent straight from up above,

Still a believer of impossible love stories,

For I've lived and witnessed it, in all it's pitfalls and glories.

Swimmer Concerns

My biggest fear as a swimmer,

Is that my bits and bobs will pop out as unpleasant glimmers,

Straps are pulled tight,

At atrocious heights,

Still, one swift movement,

Is enough for something to gush out, from the back or the front,

My mortal fear, 

And mind's drear,

Is that I'll do an unconscious skinny dip,

With a tiny slip of the hip,

The ogling eyes are plenty,

As any woman swimmer would confirm without much frenzy,

Top that with some skin show,

And I would definitely feel low,

While this worry, doesn't occupy too much of my mind's space,

It definitely gives my brain a chase.

Single Mum

Being a single mum,

Means having absolutely no time to feel glum,

There's lots to do,

And wrap up without further ado,

It's double the love,

Bursting out of this burgeoning glove,

"I'll love you as long as I'm a baby,"

"Once I'm grown up, I'll love you maybe,"

The intensity of love and hate,

Are handed to me in equal amounts on a scathing plate,

Sometimes I'm the meanest,

At other times, I'm the nicest,

There's simply no in-between, 

For my not so little bean,

Wild as a rabbit,

Creating a mess is his habit,

Houses are destroyed, bones are broken,

My various moods are awoken,

Ranging from a calm buddha to a frenzied dragon,

All in a day's work for mumma and baby dragon.

Lucid Dreams

Lucid my dreams,

With way too many plot twists and screams,

I dreamt of hitting a bar last night,

With a girlfriend by my sight,

She got stood up by a guy,

And began throwing up shortly, saying why why why,

Soon, the bar was filled with ghosts,

We braved the night without attempting a bolt,

In the morning, I jumped into a cab,

My friend strangely was nowhere to be found, an exciting day was soon to be had,

The chatty driver, took me to temples all over town,

His career choices made me frown,

We swapped numbers by night,

Soon I was home, feeling fresh and bright,

I walked into my house,

To see my toxic ex-boss looking like a mouse,

Glancing at her face, 

Instantly made me flinch and brace,

Before I knew it,

I was wide awake, what a crazy dream, with every element of a movie script in place. 

Little Me

Maamaa you had a happy childhood,

Mine is tough and not good,

Declared my six year old,

My flood of happy memories, instantly took hold,

Round little me,

As happy as a bee,

Running around wild and naked,

No care in the world and always dedicated,

To thulping down mountains of food,

Life was good,

I called myself the princess of Hemagiri,

And placed a hotpot stand on my head, to solidify that theory,

The youngest on both sides,

I suppose, that had it's own downside,

I had to bite ankles to get attention,

In hindsight, no wonder most of my cousins didn't have a good impression,

Of me,

Even though I was as vibrant as the sea,

Is what I'd like to believe,

It's all in the past now, but all that love stays intact and will most definitely not leave,

I admit, I was a royal pain in everyone's ass,

But I'd like to assume, my personality now is absolutely first class. 

My Terrible Handwriting and I

It began with love notes for my grandmother,

When I took to writing like no other,

In poetry I found solace,

Somehow my emotions looked flawless,

On scribbled paper notes,

I used the pencil as my throat,

Everything felt right,

When pencil touched paper and my imagination took flight,

Until, I had to write exams,

All my thoughts I had to cram,

On a single sheet,

My fingers met their defeat,

My rabid thoughts and writing speed, didn't match, 

And my teachers just gave my answers a scratch,

"Illegible, hard to read,"

"Deserves to be scrunched up and shred,"

I still have the most terrible handwriting,

Thank heavens for laptops which ensures no one is left crying,

No one is subject to my scribbles anymore,

Truth be told, it's worse than before.

Rebel With/Without a Cause

The flipside of being a rebel without a cause,

Is that we don't stop or take pause,

We trust too easily, we blabber endlessly,

And we give recklessly,

The world is black and white,

Simply no areas of grey, in our sight,

We're simple souls,

We don't do casual strolls,

We're focused and fixed,

Factory settings completely pre-mixed,

We fit no moulds, we fight the good fight,

And take nothing light,

We're fearless, we're bold,

With hearts of pure gold,

We're too much for some,

And just right for our closest bum-chums,

Definitely, the life of every party,

Our laughs are loud and hearty,

This is us, this is me,

As real as can be. 

Naadan Fried Chicken

That distinct aroma of Kerala fried chicken,

Instantly makes my heart quicken,

A scrumptious red,

On a lush coconut bed,

The crunch of the coconut mixed with aromatic spice,

Makes you want to have it thrice,

Team that with porotta,

End that meal with sapota,

Just kidding, end it with a huge blob of icecream,

And that's your happiness scheme,

For life,

Just you and your porotta with fried chicken, and a dash of icecream served as a big fat slice,

Burp,

And slurp. 

The Post Lunch Killer

The break between lunch and dinner,

Puts my head and tummy on a spinner,

Eat, eat, eat, seduces my now tiny tum,

It's going to be yum, yum, yum,

She croons, 

Like a saucy little goon,

For she knows the key to my heart,

Is through art,

Not the inedible kind,

The one that makes my teeth grind,

This love-hate relationship with food,

Sometimes makes me brood,

On most days I rein in my tum,

But the killer gap between lunch and dinner, makes her hum,

This fight i must win,

Every single day, so that my chin,

Stays as one,

And not as a shapeless, gooey bun,

I will not go back to being a little ball,

And for that I'll put up every single wall,

Shoo and scram little tum,

Let's stay little and not listen to your crazy, crazy hum.

My Little Boy

My little boy, with a big mouth,

Sometimes your words can go south,

But it's better to speak up and live your truth,

Even if you sound like a brute,

You'll break hearts and probably get yours broken too,

For human beings are strange creatures, even I still don't have a clue,

But love with all your might,

Refuse to go silently into the night,

People will come and go,

The right ones will refuse to let go,

So find your tribe,

They will listen to you with zero jibes,

The world can be cruel and unforgiving,

Rise above the white noise and remain giving,

Keep an open heart and mind,

Always be kind,

Smile bright and laugh loud,

Temporary are dark clouds,

We're fighters, you and I,

We're ready to face tsunamis in the eye. 

Tears

There is strength in tears,

For it wipes away all your fears,

A good cry session,

Releases all agression,

You shed skin,

Your mood eventually elevates and it's a win-win,

After excercise, tears are a great stress buster,

It works as a magical duster,

The moment your brain goes back to a memory,

You feel temporary misery,

But your tears have already done the job,

Of easing your heart's painful throb,

So cry and cry,

Without questioning why,

It's the doorway to happiness,

And helps you put away all the nastiness. 

Happy Endings

There's something beautiful yet sad,

When endings aren't too bad,

Parting with a joke,

Perhaps all is well and not up in smoke,

Not knowing that it would be the last time,

For endings always happen with no reason or rhyme,

The least you can do is end well,

There's no need to go into a shell,

One ending, 

Always leads to another beginning,

So let the days pass,

Just live and continue being a badass,

This was not your story to write,

Although for fleeting moments it felt right,

Let go, let go,

And before you know it, your heart will stop being in such a row.

Erase

An erase button for the brain,

To stop the throbbing of your heart's veins,

How nice it would have been,

To not feel so many prickling pins,

Feeling less

Is the easiest way to avoid being a mess,

The eyes a dam,

It keeps your whole body in a jam,

The memories don't stop,

And you rewind everything non-stop,

There's nothing you can do,

Except for feeling blue,

The sun will shine again,

Until then it's okay to let your eyes rain.