Let It Go…


A volley of words,

A spur of grimaces,

A wisecrack or two,

A stream of unshed tears.

They were her reluctant weapons,

Inclined to pierce them both.

Every other day and every other night.

No bloodshed. No mortal wounds.

Yet her life drained out.

Nursing a self-inflicted bruise,

She tried to hold on…

But he kept slipping away

Like grains of golden sand.

Like leaves in autumn winds.

It was time

To battle for trust,

To fight and not let go,

To place her faith back in him,

To put a stopper to misunderstandings,

To believe in his love than her nightmares.

No more looking back.

No more burned bridges.

No more drudging up the past.

Only to lose herself in his nook

For a glimmer of hope.

For a chance of future.

For a dream of home.

Badge: Doobster @ Mindful Digressions
Badge: Doobster @ Mindful Digressions

Looking back and bringing up the past often blinds the way to the future. I have no idea how this poem happened when I saw the prompt “back”! First and possibly last poem Stream of Consciousness style.

Written for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt – “back”. Come and join the fun 🙂

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SoCS – The (not so) Big Deal about First Times

We love to experience new things. That leads to many “first time” experiences or even once-in-lifetime events that stay with us right until the very end – if we bother to look them up.

I used to document everything at one point – first lone trip, first crush, first kiss, first cook, first trek, first friend, and first boyfriend, even my first nail paint (I was 7 and it was this delightful pink 🙂 ). I treasured those and believed them to be life altering moments. And then, one fine day I just stopped! There were way too many to keep track of and to be honest for what?

I don’t want to get so hung up on those first moments that put what followed next in dim light! My first kiss… well that certainly will not shadow the heated make outs that came later! My first nail paint… ummm that Thai spa visit was much better! My first exam… okay! That was probably the easiest I have ever given so yeah, that meant a lot. Exceptions prove the rule! The point, I understand first times are important. They are the stepping stones, they are the learning experiences, they are the tear-jerking moments that, at times, simply cannot be matched and are unparalleled. But it becomes an issue when I am hung up on them and refuse to move forward.

An example. I walk into a restaurant and order a chocolate cheesecake. That first bite is mind-blowing – literally an orgasm bursting in my mouth. At that moment, I decide “Best cheesecake ever!!!” A week later, I walk in and order again. But this time, for some odd reason, it just doesn’t make the cut. No matter how hard I try, I simply cannot feel the same way! Which in turn doesn’t let me enjoy the dessert which I would have, had I not gone by the standards set by my first time. See… damn you first time!

Truth is, I am celebrating breaking free from molly-cuddling my first times. Yes they are special.  But no, they don’t make the other times any less special or less worthy. Take these competitive exams! Some poor hardworking fellow doesn’t clear it on the first attempt because of a head cold, but does it with flying colors on his second attempt. Does that make him less intelligent than the ones who cleared it at the first go? I say hats off to the guy for facing those exams again head on and coming out on top.

So I am done rambling I think. In the end, it is not just the first times – every second that made us laugh and happy and made a difference deserve a special place. The moments that stick with us till the last time are that ones that count.


The Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt was: Use an ordinal number, i.e. first, second, third and so on. I slashed at my laptop and wrote with and without thinking if that makes any sense! 😀

Nostalgia is ALWAYS Random

Kala Academy

With this, I go back to one of my favourite things in life – inking a few thoughts out of the fifty four million that squabble in my head. It was about time to be honest. A lazy Sunday afternoon preceded by a gorgeous brunch. With a full tummy and a wandering mind, I opened my laptop intending to watch some chick flick till the time for my hot chocolate came beckoning. Instead I accidentally opened another folder named, ‘Other Important Stuff”.

Oh boy! I felt like I had been sucked into a never-ending underground slide, with a kaleidoscope playing pictures dating back almost 10 years. What I had so unceremoniously labelled as “other” included a treasure trove of videos, songs and photographs from my school and college days. Almost under a spell, I moved through them – laughing and crying as I remembered the times I had spent with people – some of them whom I have forgotten even exist! What struck me was these are the virtual but tangible souvenirs that show the “stepping stones” of my life. With every video, every photograph I was witnessing a change in myself. I was different in each one of them. Those were the times who moulded me into what I have become today – how could I have even forgotten about them.

They say in the face of death, almost every moment of your life flashes back in front of your eyes in that one moment. But how come an entire day is nowhere close to even start remembering the people, the days, the goof-ups, the surprising achievements and most importantly the thoughts that used to go through my head. Discreetly tucked away was my private guilty stash of Mills & Boon novels, cheesy songs and heartfelt letters from back then. Why did it feel like I was prying into someone else’s life instead of my own memories? Or was it really an entirely different person? Have I really moved on so much that I have forgotten where I came from – that I can’t even remember the people, the music, the eateries that were my life? Moving to different cities, meeting new people, entering a carnival named “the corporate” should just be adding and deepening the shades of colours in the canvas of my life – and NOT erasing them. I was heartened to realise that few of those people are still there on my speed dial, that lyrics of those old songs rolled off my tongue as easily as my name. Maybe it is not too late to pick up the phone and give a call to few of them. And plunge myself into doing what I always love (read: writing; yes – you see what I did there!) and rediscover myself.

This was not an epiphany. This was not something that came to me when I was half drunk and feeling lonely. We never book our calendars to watch the old videos and cringe at our hairstyles. It was unplanned and purely accidental – totally random that got triggered with the accidental clicking of “Other Important Stuff”. Which I guess helped in essentially sucker punching me and realize that I owe it to myself to keep in touch in my roots and not completely lose myself in the sad process we call ‘growing up’.

Daenerys Targaryean has made it her mantra – “If I look back, I am lost”. But how do you find your way ahead if you do not know where you have come from?

Welcome back to me! 🙂

Linking up with Stream of Conscious Saturday with the prompt “Memory” I know I am bending the rule here, but my first post was what flashed through my mind with the prompt.