Open letter to my mother

Amma,

You’ve always been with me. A constant presence in my life that I could not do without. The one who I follow around at every party where I see strangers I am related to but I don’t know. The person who gives me delicious food everyday, even though I may not fully appreciate the greens. You called me your sweetie, your smart princess. The one jewel you loved over all other.

But amma, when did I stop being that to you?

I used to love dressing up and showing you just so I could hear “pretty” from your lips. But now everything I wear is either slutty or old-fashioned. Suddenly my dresses make me look young, some make me look old and others make me look oddly thin. Some are too boyish, others are just ‘wrong’. Amma, why do I now have that one moment of fear before I show you the clothes I like? And even when I succumb to your wishes and wear something I hate to see myself in, why do you not call me “pretty” anymore?

Amma, it means more to me from you than from anyone else.  Continue reading

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Of little girls and the masks we all wear 

Whenever my parents speak of my childhood, they start with this one particular story. I was barely three, and they’d taken me to a wedding where we scarcely knew anyone. They took their eyes off me for a few minutes, and I disappeared. After searching for me frantically and nearly giving my grandma (who was at home) a heart attack, they found me in the midst of a group of kids almost thrice my age. They’d all gathered around me, patiently listening to some grand story I was telling them in baby-talk. All of them came to wave me goodbye when it was my time to leave.

And then they turn to the present me with a sigh, and remark “Where has that little girl gone now?”

I dont know. I like to think that she’s still hiding inside me somewhere Continue reading

How my Art grew when my Heart broke 

During my second year of college I had to deal with a lot of crap. My depression started affecting my daily life to the point I often left early from class. I had body image issues and the slight teasings from classmates made it worse. I lost a few friends and it hit me hard. The final nail in the coffin was my boyfriend at that time telling me I had become unlovable.

But every cloud has a silver lining- this was the time I realised that drawing was catharsis for my soul. So I drew. I experimented with many styles till I found one that suited me. And then, I drew every time something brought me down.

This might not shock you, but it did me. I’d never drawn something this grotesque before.

They’re not all great works of art. Most were done in between crying sessions, so they were quick, messy and frankly not very aesthetically pleasing. It it was very different from the perfection I usually practiced.  Continue reading

On Family and Why I don’t want Children

WARNING- highly emotional rant ahead.

So, I’m going to state a really unpopular opinion of mine, simply because I’ve held it in for so long that its threatening to devour me from the inside.

I love my family. I truly do. But I am not a fan of how they treat me at times. Actually, I absolutely despise their actions at many occasions.

There are instances where their words leave me gasping for breath in-between crying sessions all alone in my room, and then there are happy times when we sit together watching reality shows and make jokes at the expense of the participants. My mother is amazing at juggling work and house work, my dad is the softest person I know and my brother has the most amazing memory. We have so many great family moments that I feel like a little bitch for ever thinking that I want to move away from them.

But I do. Oh I do.

Recently, Continue reading

Dread

Some nights I sleep with a smile on my face

Others I spend in an unfeeling daze

Yet others set the stage for my tears

Which wet my pillow with my dread and my fears

 

Some nights I dream vivid, pretty dreams

Castles and cupcakes and joyous screams

But at times I dream that the ‘bad man’ has come

And I hug myself tighter, cold and numb

 

Sometimes it’s my classmates, pretending I’m dead

Sometimes it’s the monster drooling under my bead

Sometimes it’s the boy I love, calling me a slut

And then I awaken with a knotted gut

 

Sometimes I fear my dreams are parallel worlds

And there exists one where I’m without my curls

And one where my parents sell me to another

One where my friends change like the weather

 

Other times, they’re scenes from a long time ago

The doubt in her eyes that hurt me so

The lies from the one who hates me sans reason

The words from his mouth, bitter acts of treason

 

But sometimes I dream of all that’s good

Some people around love me all they could

They say that my broken self is just fine

At least for this moment, their hearts are all mine

 

The dreams are yet to be subdued

At times, it feels like a timeless feud

But change has come- now I long to be free

I’ve found my kindred, and they’ve found me

 

Finally my wings have begun to sprout

Before long, I believe I can try them out,

Conquer the world I had feared for so long

And set right all that it had done me wrong.

 

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For all those who are at war with their own minds 🙂 Keep fighting.

(Sorry for the mostly forced rhymes :/ I’m not very good at poetry yet.)