We've grown up now. Is it okay to allow myself to feel pain now? Because we have grown up. We can't hide behind our age, we aren't supposed to be teenage drama queens anymore. Love always hits us in the face, as hard as it did before. We think we have learned to fall and then balance but just as you love changes, pain does too. Pain doesn't fall out of your body through your tears, it hits the walls of your skin vehemently, struggles to find an outlet. Sometimes tear glands don't work. When you see a picture of the one you love in the arms of another, when you wake up in the middle of the night to check your god forsaken phone with the hope to see their name on your display, when you smell the rain that surprised you pleasantly in the hot summer only to remind you that it feels just like last year when you were in their arms, in the same balcony. Your skin tingles outside, your organs tangle inside. And here I am standing in my bathroom, looking at the moon, listening to your favourite songs and smoking a cigarette and trying to tame the pain that's thrashing my insides by coating it with another pathetic layer of nicotine. Poetic, isn't it?
The Evils of Untouchability Start From Home I've always loved kids and believed that children are the manifestation of God and innocence. But a few weeks ago, an interaction I had a with a four year-old child and her mothereally angered and disturbed me. I was talking to this little angel of a child and we were at a wedding and you're bound to find at lea st 4-5 children hopping around on the dance floor at a typical Indian wedding. I thought it was really cute and watching them have so much fun delighted me. A little while later, I saw this other little girl standing all by herself in the corner. She was really shy and timid and I tried to take her to the place where the other kids were so she could enjoy herself too. As soon as I reached there with her, the cute angel looking 4 year old hit her and said "Nahi, koi isse baat mat karo. Yeh Laxmi ki beti hai, aur yeh kaali aur stinky hai." (Laxmi being her care taker/ domestic help). When I told her moth...
Comments
Post a Comment