She is a complete package

A sentence so many young girls are hoping to hear. The burden of perfection is so huge, yet we put all of it on the ladies. So much on our plate, and the added requisition of perfection. Damn!

Young ladies, adolescents mostly, hope to lead perfect lives. Be a perfect package. God knows most of us adults hope for the same, even now.

The society matters.
Public opinion matters.
All opinion matters, except the one inside.

As an adult, I have heard ‘perfect package’ in different instances. For others, and sometimes for myself too.
And it has never been a compliment really.

It is a responsibility. More of an expectation. A perfect package is rarely a good thing.

Because, there is nowhere to go from perfect…


A perfect package
Properly gift wrapped
The bow was so neat
The package, exquisite
But a perfect gift
Is the wrapped kinds
The one that stays
On the mantelpiece
Never undone, untouched
A joy of perfection
From afar
Perfect sounds good
It sounds so tempting
But perfect is perfect
Only from afar


~ There’s no such thing as a perfect package


The Ambivert

I took a Caliper assessment test recently. It gave a result that I lack aggression.



Because people around me would swear otherwise
I am the angry young woman. Or maybe not..

I was always the introvert personality all my life. I never spoke to people myself, did not know how to initiate conversations and never tried to. A huge part of my life was spent in front of the mirror trying to build my confidence and the remainder was spent in getting it shattered by the seemingly better-at-conversation individuals. I never had the required self-reliance to even speak for myself. Add to that, the lesson of ‘putting others before yourself’ just silenced me further.

As time passed, I got diagnosed with a syndrome with no cure or apparent relief to its symptoms. My need for speaking up increased and my will did too. The jokes on my illness made me find a voice I thought I never had.

Today, 10 years later, I still find an introvert living inside me. In certain situations, my discomfort is unexplained and internal.

Perhaps this introvert inside me makes me less aggressive
My fight with it makes me irritated.
I don’t react.
I stay quiet.
And I explain it as observing.
And it seems that I am angry.


An ambivert- a mix of introvert and extrovert.
I prefer silence, but not always.
I love being on my own, mostly.
And I can speak, sometimes.

— Poetic Silence —

I think before I speak
I think so much
I do not speak.


~ They always said extroverts are better

The voice that should be silenced

Teri soch chhoti, aur aawaz bahut unchi hai
Sambhall jaa, soch le, rukk ja zara
Kisi din zindagi ne chup karaya
To aawaz kya, lafz bhi kho jayenge hamesha ke liye


Men fight for rights as if they have never had any this entire time. The lighter color of the population continues to dominate the darker one, irrespective of character. Dominance is exhibited in this world around me as if it were a prerequisite to live. People dominate on the basis of color, money, and so many more things.

The powerful have dominated over the powerless.


It is wrong to question the ways of the society. This is how it is, this is how it will be. That’s pretty much the bottom-line of everything that is wrong and can never be corrected.

I was sexualized at a very young age. My skirts were monitored, and any attempt at dressing up was scrutinized and met with a disgusted glare by family. I was made to live in a box made by the society where I was the one to be dominated over.
By parents.
By guys.
By men.
By relatives.
By teachers.
By the world.

But, thankfully, the universe was kind. It made me a black sheep. The bad egg. The weird one.
I grew up to not care. I grew out of the box without my family looking and now, I am beginning to grow wings.


I see the powerful dominate the powerless, and I know it is wrong. I no longer call it ‘the way this world works’.
There are many of us aware now.
And change begins after acceptance.


— Poetic Unrest —


One day this world will shut you up
For all the dominance that you have
The power well will soon dry up
And you’ll fall in your own trap

The day will come, when this era ends
When all humans will be the same
When color, gender, power won’t matter
When there will be no place for blame

That’s when you will shriek, “Unfair!”
And you will ask for your rights!
But the universe will take your voice and words
And your silent face will be a sight

Your whims and fancies won’t matter
Your dominion will come to an end
What you call majority, power, perfection
Will be the only dying trend.


~ All lives matter

The glory of fiction

“I will make you an offer you can’t refuse”

Quoting the iconic words from the movie ‘Godfather’ puts the idea of a perfect situation in words. The brilliance of unprecedented odds, immense power and luck makes us forget the reality. Movies are like that, they show us a make-believe world, erasing all that is practical and possible, momentarily.

From the world of make-believe, we carry some expectations into the real world as well. We think of ourselves as the hero/villain (whichever suits best) and we imagine all the good things happening to us. And then, nothing of that sort ever happens.

Life has a cruel way of making us realize that we’re too small in front of it.
We are too meek to affect the grand plans.
But, I say
But, I know
But, I feel
We are all at least a part of the grand plan.
I might not affect it, but I am a part of it.
And in the grand plan, I shall play a vital role.


‘Sometimes it is the people who no one imagines anything of who do the things that no one can imagine…’- Alan Turing


Perhaps the best movie scene won’t happen to me, or maybe the perfect moment will never come in life. But, in entirety, I want to look back and smile.

Nothing is perfect, it just works, somehow.



They described perfection,
As what the society called right.
Ostracized, she described irony


~ There is no underdog or hero. Don’t wait for the perfect movie scene. Live your life.


To be or not to be

Dilemma. Drama. Doubts. An age old war of the wise thoughts and whimsical instincts.

We encounter dilemmas in all forms. Professionally, personally, everything in life has its way of walking up to us in the least expected form, and knocking on to our doors at the least expected time.
Dilemma has been a prominent part of my life. I am overly critical of myself and unnecessary doubts stem out of the criticism.
I think, therefore, I am.
I think too much, therefore, I am not…

Often, the dilemmas I land myself amidst are a product of the immense thoughts I put into matters. Thinking is a good thing, but an excess of everything is pretty bad for life, as we know it.

This little thing called life shouldn’t be taken very seriously perhaps. Maybe we could just walk through it. Like a stroll, through a garden. There are flowers, beautiful trees, thorns, and some terrible insects as well.
I don’t have to think a lot.
I don’t have to mull over everything to make it more confusing.
I don’t have to do anything that I don’t want to.

When in a dilemma, ask what a child would do.
It will be the most honest and perfect thing to do in that situation.

— Poetic musings —

As a child, they taught me to bow
As an adult, they said stand upright
I do not know what to do anymore
Amidst a dilemma, I fight

As a girl, they said speak softly
As a woman they say, let your voice be heard
I do not understand what to do
Amidst a dilemma, I have no words

As a daughter, they said, be a son
As a daughter, they said, be one properly
I do not understand what to do
Amidst a dilemma, I am no one

As an adult, they said, find some company
As a lady, they said, not right for you
I do not understand how to choose
Amidst a dilemma, I have no clue

As a human, they said, learn to help
As an individual, they said, keep yourself first
I see persons stepping on others to succeed
Amidst a dilemma, I witness humanity that is cursed

~ A single dilemma can change the world. Or not.

Peace of mind

We often equate peace with constant routines. A relaxed atmosphere. Minimum challenges. If we are in a clockwork cycle, we must be at peace.
A kid that goes to school everyday cannot have mental challenges.
An employee that keeps his head down and works cannot be the one to question the on-goings.
A family member that is quiet at gatherings is probably someone who can take all those terrible jokes without letting it affect his self-esteem.

Common is often equated with normal.
Routine is often equated with peace.

What of the battles within? What of the struggles to recognize life as it is? What of the terrible dark days that scatter themselves amidst the seemingly normal life?

There are A-graders who cry alone at night and top-bosses who think too much and worry themselves into a demotion. There are happy people who indulge in self-harm as well.

If I am an outsider to your situation, I can assume you have a happy life.

“… each person comes with a story, and a string of personal struggles…”

{—Poetic Trials—}

Every morning she woke up, with a smile that wasn’t hers
Made her bed, opened the drapes, and did the same for years

She got dressed, looked in the mirror, and smiled to it
It smiled back, looked so happy, she was a perfect fit

A walk down the street, she met people with a smile
Her pretty face, twinkling eyes, everyone loved her style

She worked well each day, talked and laughed
She was a happy person
A perfect job, a life that everyone loved
There was no burden

And then she came home, in quite a lot of pain
She had things in her head that hurt
The day had blocked the voices out
But at night, there was no way to part

She played loud music, read books of love
But the voices never stopped talking
She calmed herself down, remembered happy things
But the bad thoughts kept knocking

She went to the mirror, smiled at it
The mirror smiled back, without asking why
The pillow she slept on, was always drenched
At least, she had taught the mirror to lie


~ Nothing is as it seems

Lost in a crowd

I gasp for some honest air amidst a crowd of liars

I have been away, lost in a crowd of people. Buried quite deep, so much that I had forgotten who I was. Things happened, some I caused, some on their own. And then, everything spiraled out of control. I am still gasping for air, amidst a crowd of strangers.

One constant held on, bled on my broken pieces, but held on. Still holds on.
And I hold my constant back.
My constant pulls me out of this crowd every night and lets me sleep.

Yesterday, while returning, I came across an old man. He was screaming loudly, to all those in a hurry, “Yes, run! Run! Be fast! Be quick! Run to get no where!”

Where am i getting?
No where…

I drown as I breathe.
I learn so much to be a fool.

With each passing day, as close as I get to destiny, I am leaving myself behind.

This post had so many thoughts, none really made sense.

~ Happiness is a concept not meant for the thinkers

Over the last few days

Festivities mark the onset of good times

The last few days have been super-celebratory and full of cheer! Diwali, Halloween, the works. People all over the world are in a great mood because the lovely colorful autumn is here.
As the saying goes, “Autumn teaches you how beautiful it can be to let things go”

Beautiful, absolutely.

Though, I have also heard that depression rates run high during the holidays as well. Not quite sure of the legitimacy of this fact. But it got me wondering, anyhow.

Over the years, I feel, generations have spiraled into an independent culture. Alone and lonely are no longer synonymous. Marriage is no longer a “when”, it has become a mere “if”. The search for deeper meanings is so frantic that nothing else is important anymore.

My mother keeps pointing out to me how unhealthy I am for wanting to be alone for so long. And that if everyone would be like me, then this world will not survive.
But that’s the whole point. In a world of 100 people, only 20 are like me. There are 80 others, who will make sure the world goes on. I don’t have to be a part of the 80, I feel good being one of the 20.

Maybe this seasonal depression would find its roots in comparison as well.
“His life is better than mine”, “they are more liked than us”… So many nagging thoughts make home inside our filthy heads.


I am on my own
But I am not lonely

I have a beautiful world
Beyond imagination

Maybe one day, I’ll invite you in
And let you look around

But not today, not yet
Because I need you to see

This world has set certain rules
And they do not match my reality

~ Remember to love yourself a little more, it definitely doesn’t make you rebellious 🙂

I don’t want to be renowned

My name will die with me, my karma will stay behind

I don’t want to leave my name behind. Fuck what the world says. I do not want to leave my name behind. I don’t want to be interviewed because of something huge that I did. I do not want to be the person who leaves a huge name. But I want to leave behind a legacy.

There is a difference I feel. In my name, there will be a person involved. A tangible figure. That’s exactly how I don’t want it to be.

No persons. No name. If something good ever comes out of my life, I hope the good isn’t overshadowed by my name.

I don’t want to be famous for what I do. Heaven knows we could use less names and more deeds in this world full of people who would kill for credit.

— Poetry —

She fought for credit
He died without any
She struggled as his work lived on

~ Karma lives longer than generations and civilizations

My love for Marilyn Monroe

“She is a dead girl, stop being her fan!”

Her beauty is talked of even after decades of her passing away. Marilyn Monroe rose to her iconic status with her confidence, acting, looks and many other things. I don’t remember exactly when I got to know about her. She just became a vital part of my life very quickly and completely.

I have seen her movies, the lovely white dress scene and her beautiful photos at different points of time in her life.
The red lipstick, blonde hair, a troublesome personal life yet twinkling eyes. Picture biographies told me so much.

But there is something I remember more than anything else.

During my adolescent years, when I started to grow into a lady, a part of being an introvert teenager was being self-conscious. I was unsure of what was acceptable. People would comment on the developing curves. Men would stare. Women around me told me that I shouldn’t show my teeth while laughing. I couldn’t understand which body sizes were okay and which weren’t. I did not know how to laugh, talk or make my hair. And the magazines did not help either.

Then came Marilyn Monroe with her closer-to-real-life size, a wide smile, dyed hair and very bold clothes. She was a doll, and she made me feel that it was okay to be anything you wanted to be.

Marilyn Monroe made me feel confident about my body. So, whether dead or alive, she is the most lively person for the self-conscious introvert inside me.
And also for the real lady that I am, everyday of my life.

~ Inspiration does not stop even if life does