Swings of a rhapsodic mind

"It's easy for you to choose a convenient way", said he. "Yes",  I agreed. It is so easy for each one of us to judge other's action. We think the whole world is on the greener side whereas we are left to deal with our own insecurities. Isn't it easy to keep ourselves in denial than face the ugly truths of life? Perhaps not,  to keep someone in denial is being selfish, it's choosing convenience instead of pushing oneself to face the crude reality. I knew I was being selfish but perhaps I was not being true to myself. There is this threshold in your life which when you reach, you realise you had had enough. Enough of hurting others, enough of being judged, enough of expecting the unachievable and it is in that very moment you come home to yourself :tired, broken yet true to yourself. You question your selfish soul, bargain with your adamant heart, pacify your judged self and at the end you sit down and let things be as they are meant to be. You no...

I stood frozen in time Helpless. Pushed as the shore. The sea, didn't belong to me, Yet, I dared to touch its foam The shells lying around lured me I knew I was cursed. Yet, I felt the sea through my skin There came this moment, I surrendered to the sea I fell for it. I knew it came with a price, Little did I know the sea would suffer Little did I want to see it in pain For, a shore can be near the sea But it's destiny is to love it from afar. The moon jeered at me Yet, the benign sun took care with its warmth. While the sea could shed its tears in pain The shore knew it had nothing to grieve The sea never could be his The sea would remain its muse The only thing that the shore hoped was: For the sea to wash its pain in its shore.

Xunaru (Laburnum) was one of the few trees that captivated my attention as a kid. It's rich golden hue outlining a blue sky was my favourite view that the window of Class V, B could promise . My classmates always dreamt of reaching fifth standard for we had this fascination of being in the first floor as our previous classes were arranged in the ground floor of the building. They would run across the stairs whole day long, peep out of the veranda, whistle across the corridors to show off our promotion to the first floor. But I was more happy because I could be closer to the Xunaru tree which shyed away near our classroom window. There was something about this tree which kept me hooked the whole summer. It's filmsy petals filled my geometry box out shadowing the cruel looking Compass and divider. My way back home from school in a rickshaw brought me stories from the laburnum. Our Kokaideu who used to pull the rickshaw had his own stories. He used to narrate how he had plucked...

And for once let me come home to you Behind the cobwebs of your fading memory I will build my palace: thread by thread I will sing you lullabies, fondle your cute curls I will stay as your innocent chuckle I will bring sleep to your tormented soul Let me stay, let me be your dream. For I would come home to you each night I would stay like a dream and echo under your skin And when I leave, I will shed my skin and bathe in your colours I would die in bits But I would live a little more And in those dreams, I would come alive Slowly and all at once. So let me stay, will you?

I am from the land where the mighty Brahmaputra holds our lifeline. I remember visiting multiple places within Assam as a kid and no matter near or far, the bus ride always promised me a glimpse of the mighty river. My pious mother had instilled within me a faith that this river was not a river alone, it was our deity and needed to be worshipped. Each time we crossed it, she would jerk me from my sleep and fold my tiny hands into a "namaste" to show my obeisance towards the river. I was also taught that each namaste had to be accompanied with a slight bend of your head to show how humbled you felt when faced by the mighty river. Years rolled, I grew from a kid to a confused adult. Confused is the apt word to describe my state because I am preety clear about the fact that a river can't be God and as a matter of fact I even can't explain who to relate to as God but even now some unseen force makes me fold my palm into a "namaste" followed by a brief nod (thou...

A friend of mine got in touch recently after ages and the first thing she said was, "Girl, you still are your happy self".  I was amused by the way she had so easily confirmed my state . I tried to sound intelligent and thank her for complementing but I couldn't fake it. I quietly smiled for in these many years one thing that I have realised is you needn't explain yourself to people with whom you engage in small talks. She took my smile to be a confirming nod and further began narrating how lucky I was to not have those share of struggles which supposedly she had. She began complaining about everything under the sun and I stood looking at her transfixed. My mind was not at all registering her words let alone her pain. "Empathy ", I remember the first time I had learnt the word at school . I kept on repeating the word while cycling back to home for I had found my word, I wanted to be one such human who could smile at everyone and step in everyone's sho...

The burnt ashes of warm feelings Drown in a timeless slumber I trudge forward, A heavy heart pulls back I hush it down, I won't let it scream "One step at a time", I hear my mind order And I plunge not asking why. Someday, I shall make it home I assure my indignant soul.