Let the words write me

I wrote these words. And these words wrote me.

1. Saying hello first doesn’t come under my necessary wants. But saying goodbye is a luxury for me that I can’t afford.

2. I get hurt in small simple things. But the smallest of things and simplest of moments make me happy.

3. I am never afraid of admitting that I own millions of flaws, I have faced many failures. But I am more than my flaws & higher than my failures.

4. I never take anyone for granted. I also don’t let anyone take me for granted. Never.

5. If I trust you, I’ll try hard to not let any situation to slacken that trust and will try harder to not let you do anything that fades my faith in you. But if my trying don’t make any sense to you, I’ll impose neither my trust nor my doubt upon you. I’ll just let you go.

6. Tears drench me often. And I’m not ashamed considering it as my weakness. I feel stronger each time I dry them by myself.

7. I can’t open my heart out in front of everyone, everywhere. You may call me boring for that. Only few people know how crazy & sassy I am. And I want that few to remain few.

8. In the entire world, I love my baba the most. And I know my mami feels happier when I say it. I am nothing without both of them.

9. I don’t have an empire of friends. I have some that I can count in my fingers and store in my heart forever. Some of them can’t even be categorised as friends because they feel a lot like family, a lot like home.

10. I don’t want someone who will say me I love you. Because I say this line to me daily when I stand in front of the mirror. I need someone who will make me feel loved by saying I love Us, with justified confidence.

11. I save my little anger for the people who mean so much to me. I gift that to them in abundance, often, but not for a longer period.

12. In today’s competitive world of comparison, I love to live my own story, fight my own battle which can’t be like any other and I enjoy applauding for the joy of others.

13. I hate full stops. I love to hang as an apostrophe after the names of people I love.

14. I can’t be defined in adjectives because adjectives are meant for comparison. I’m not a synonym because synonyms are meant for replacement. I am the personification of abstracts you don’t know.

15. I am the meaning of my own name. Abhisikta. And I don’t need your validation for that. (Laughs)
©ruchiabhisikta

Unsolved Question

Books publish eminent personalities say
No yesterday no tomorrow only today

Never imagine future nor cling to the past
Live present moment as if it is the last

But often my heart asks my brain
Is it possible to run on the crude path
of today?
Without a peaceful walk in the memory lane

Is it doable to work restlessly day and night?
Without envisaging yourself at the greatest height

How can we separate such a virilely
bonded relation
Like summer spring and rain

Then are we Gods and Goddesses
Or mere men and women???
©ruchiabhisikta

Palak Mathri

Preparation of palak mathri made me realise these things-

1. Bunch of spinach is just like me, just like you, just like an individual, bundling many useful virtues green, protecting some useless goodness wilted, unable to leave few ugly vices weedy. Few are the people who can notice the raw you, fewer are the people who accept the unprocessed you and fewest are the people who put effort to turn you into better you. And in front of the rest world, you will try to present yourself as processed you, cleaned from imperfection, chopped with expectation, ground to crush your individuality, strained for being a bit more ‘fit for the world’ you.

2. When shapeless moisture meets with loose flour, the dough is made, tight. When unbound trust meets with scattered hope, the bond is made, tighter.

3. Rolling the dough balls makes me realise pain is less about the exhaustion of the body, more about that shit chewing your mind with the thought that I have expended this much energy. The body is not a cage to mind, but a meant to free the mind.

4. Cut shapes are like somethings which seem better in bits, not in a size big, which can be kept longer in pieces, not in whole. Adore little moments, store shredded memories. They feel better, last longer.

5. Those poured pieces in hot oil are like bathed emotions in the burning liquid of eyes which turns strength after being fried in adversities.

6. Tasting feels a lot like saying ok. Because good is an overconfident word and bad is a harsh word.

7. Adding spice makes me think why the same recipe tastes better than the hostel when cooked by mother. Maybe always food doesn’t taste according to spice, sometimes unadulterated love makes it yummier.

8. Packing feels a lot like filling effort with no expectation and sealing it with love with no expiry date.

9. Deciding the price after drawing the lines of profit and loss made me regret for not drawing a smile in an innocent face by not buying a chips packet for ten bucks from the kid at traffic who keeps pleading. If I bought that from him, I could have sold some inner poorness.

10. Inserting labels reminds me how I love to hang as an apostrophe after the names of people who are the world to me and feel special when I realise that so ordinary I am in this vast world. It feels good to become solely special for the few who are special to you and to become completely ordinary for others.

©ruchiabhisikta12

Ratha yatra 2020

After an immediate decision of the supreme court, after a prolonged wait of the devotees, it happened, it happened in spite of all the catastrophe prevailing in the globe, in spite of all the obstacles coming in its way. Today, although millions of hands were deprived of dragging the ropes of their sacred chariots, zillions of hearts held the hope that Lord Jagannath would always pull the journey of their lives in the right path. Overcoming the vicious circle of thousand anticipations & arguments, finally He stepped out of his sacred palace along with God Balabhadra & Maa Subhadra, amidst the sound of chants, conches, bells & drums, amidst the fragrance of Sandal, Ocimum, incense sticks & flowers. In recent time, when new regulations, modern technologies are raising their heads to make the notorious corona bow down, the happening of this occasion is the proof that spirituality isn’t a synonym of toxic superstition & devotion isn’t similar to sceptic orthodoxy. This pandemic confined his festival in his native, Puri only; but the feeling for him, the faith in him spread more miles beyond the ocean, beyond the sky. In today’s world of social distancing & sanitisation, He sanitised our souls with deep belief & led our souls towards divinity, towards eternity…

Finally, Happy Rathayatra happened🙏
©ruchiabhisikta

My Lord Jagannath

O My Lord Jagannath!

No pompous poem of any poet can portray your glory

No thought of any philosopher can explain your mystery

No paintbrush of any painter can sketch your beauty

No frame of any photographer can capture your radiance

No sculpture of any sculptor can duplicate your structure

No curriculum of any university can teach your culture

No perfume of any brand can spread the aroma of your Tulasi* and Chandan*

No dish of any restaurant can copy the flavour of your abadha*

No vehicle of any generation can possess the significance of your chariot

No treasure of any emperor can buy your empire

No place of world can have the smoothness of your sharadhabali*

No obstacle in life can block the path of your devotees

No festival of Odisha can overcome the grandeur of your Rathayatra*

Because

You are the only cure to many ached hearts

You are the only solace to many lost souls

You are the only air to many suffocated breaths

You are the only vision to many weeping eyes

You are the only utterance to many muted voice

You are the only support for many disabled bodies

Because

You are the faith

You are the feeling

You are the life of many lives

Whenever I go to your Badadeula*, Your palace

I may return empty-handed but each time with a filled heart.

From my heart, these are not only the mere flow of words but my dedication of love and gratitude to my Lord, my Jagannath🙏

*Tulasi – Ocimum

*Chandan – Sandal

*Abadha – Food offered to God during worship and then distributed among the devotees

*sharadhabali – Sand of this divine land

*Ratha yatra – Car festival

*Badadeula – Jagannath temple

******all these are Odia words

All my beloved fellow writers here, you must visit the sacred Jagannath Dham of Puri, Odisha, India.

Then you can feel the truth of Lord Jagannath’s splendour by yourself😊

HAPPY RATHA YATRA TO ALL🙏

©ruchiabhisikta

My love will

You may thrust me into darkness, but I will return to you as the sunrays that scatter through your window every morning.

You may suffocate me to cry the river, but I will return to you as petrichor that enchants your parched soul.

You may devastate me as the storm, but I will return to you as gentle zephyr that caresses your face.

You may leave my hand in the crowd, but I will return to you as a fallen leaf when you will sit alone.

You may throw me as unwanted seed, but I will return to you as the blooming Zinnia that adorns your garden.

You may dip me in the sea of gloominess, but I will return to you as the wave that kisses your feet.

You may pierce me from within by your words but I will return to you as a soothing melody that alleviates your despair.

You may impel my eyes to moisten my cheeks, but I will return to you as the force that pulls your lips to smile.

You may go away from me when I need you the most, I will never obstruct your path. But I will wait to embrace you if you return.
And I believe that one day my love will return you to me as my true lover forever.

©ruchiabhisikta

Train & Thoughts

Indian railway tracks are always in conflict with the mobile networks.
While travelling in a train,
Sometimes I curse this conflict so much when my stagnant mind can do nothing except staring blankly at the zero network of my phone.
Sometimes I enjoy this conflict to the fullest when my heart succeeds in storing some words and emotions in the memo of my phone.

Sometimes I wanna observe deeply for a little longer to those feelings filled faces of people standing in the station to receive or to bid bye to their loved ones.

Sometimes I wanna ask those group of transgenders if they also want someone in life to share all the moments good and bad.

Sometimes I wanna take that little pale baby in my arms who peeps so innocently from the lap of his young mother in torn clothes.

Sometimes I wanna give the cake from my bag to that handicapped man with soulful voice instead of searching for jingling coins in my purse.

Sometimes I wanna laugh with the gang of friends in wildest of jokes and munching chocos. Sometimes I wanna ask them if there is any other thing to discuss rather than gossiping something rubbish about others.

Sometimes I wanna listen to the abstract thoughts of the person sitting next to me. Sometimes I wanna ask the aunty in the front seat the reason for her keen gaze on me.

Sometimes I wanna untie my hairs and allow them to romance with the wind flowing from the window. Sometimes I wanna move my head, feet & tongue with the rhythm of that repeat song playing in my phone.

Sometimes I wanna do whatever my heart wishes. Sometimes I wanna say whatever comes to my mind.

But sometimes I don’t wanna think, but can’t stop myself from thinking “What if others will consider me as a sentimental fool, an immature misfit, a nonsense girl!”
©ruchiabhisikta

A conversation on beauty

She: I feel ugly amidst all those pretty girls. please don’t compel me to attend marriage functions.”

Her Mother: What is beauty from your point of view? Tell me.

She: Of course it is the combination of genetics and cosmetics.

Her Father: So you mean to say that your parents aren’t beautiful. Right!

She: None can be more beautiful than them, at least not for my eyes.

Her Mother: Then how do you dare to call our daughter ugly!

She: But Mummie! You know well how much backward I am in this world of mascara, highlighter and lipgloss.

Her Mother: Who restricts you not to apply those! It is your personal choice not to use makeup. But in fact, a smile in face and decency in behaviour are the real beauty of a girl.

Her Father: Daughter! Some years back I found such beauty in a girl and I think you had inherited this beauty from her.

Her Mother: But your daughter is more like you.

They smiled at each other
and she laughed louder.
©ruchiabhisikta

A source of sweetness- Aai

Words which flourish when she waters my thoughts-

1. Her smile is the story of her teethless jawline. Her talk is the tale half-swallowed by her, half-understood by others. Her eating is a poetry, lengthy with less volume.

2. Her face is the silent music of Vedic charm tuning in the lyrics of holy purity. She is a Goddess who appears as a devotee, worshipping fervently.

3. Her palms can’t restrict the running nose of water tap properly. But her pat has enough power to cure a bleeding mind.

4. Dye of desert adorns her skin. But ripples of wrinkles are frozen all over it.

5. Her waist has become bent. It’s not just the result of age. It’s the load of responsibilities she has been carrying all these years, as a daughter, as a daughter-in-law, as a sister, as a sister-in-law, as a mother, as a mother-in-law, as a wife, as a granny, as a woman so strong.

6. The charcoal canvas of her scalp is now painted with numerous lines of white. And her mid parted alley is still clear where vermilion walks boldly.

7. Her romance ride has come to a halt. But that bindi kissing her forehead, those bangles embracing her hand, those toerings clinging her toes sing how her love for Ajaa still revolves like a circle endlessly.

8. Autumn has settled in her body permanently without waiting for the arrival of spring anymore. But the season in her eyes never remains dry when she murmurs about the illness of her offsprings.

9. It’s hard for her to learn & use technology. It’s harder for technology to limit & understand her.

10. Her age has withered. Her energy has evaporated. But her significance in our lives will breathe not for life long, but longer than life.

©ruchiabhisikta12

*Aai – maternal grandmother

*Ajaa – maternal grandfather

Wrap your grandparents with love & warm your heart. They need it. You need to do it.

A child bride

Burying the tender child within me

Nurturing the matured bride within me…

Scattering my desire to study in school and play with pals

Gathering the courage to restrict me within four walls…

Forgetting the yearn for an independent life, a bright future

Learning to survive in darkness, to adapt my cruel culture…

Losing my identity as a human, the most special creation of Almighty

Accepting myself as an unfortunate girl, the toy in the hand of destiny…

©ruchiabhisikta

Love of the lifeline

Clouds in the sky changing from ghostly shape to serene sedan
Adorning themselves with hues of white, lavender and blue
In symphony with them, my mind is swaying here and there
In quest of an idea to write something soulful, special & true

Varied thoughts are approaching
Excited are the words to embrace them
But still discontented is my heart
So confused is my soul
Helpless me, exhausted me

Pressing my palms on my ears with my eyes closed
But still, I am unable to stop my mind from moving without any gear
Suddenly I see you in front of me with my eyes still unopened
“Ruchi! Don’t be hurried. Be cool”-My pressed ears hear

“Idea is clear and final” now I am dancing on cloud nine
Simultaneously guilt is grasping me from within
Why I spent so much time searching for an idea fine
when I was already bestowed with you, my emotion evergreen

You, the ripple of motivation to my stillness
You, the tranquility of my stormy situation
You, the glimmer of hope in my dark days
You, my constant in the world of alteration

Your advice, the universal solution to
my every problem
Your presence, the reason for my every enjoyment
Your unwavering faith in me, the slap to my every failure
Your smile, the best reward for my every achievement

Your admiration for Mom- for me it is
the definition of love
Your dedication to your official duty – for me it is the definition of honesty
Your concern for the uplift of our family- for me it is the definition of sacrifice
Your tendency of not to hurt anyone – for me it is the definition of simplicity

Your footsteps, my path
Your lap, my heaven

Your shoulder, graveyard to my tears
Your choice, my confirmation

Yet when in front of me you praise someone’s daughter
When you don’t bring me something without reminding you again
Then either my silence or my shout comes forward to show my anger
Because whenever I feel the slightest flaw in your love for me, I become insane

But many times I couldn’t stand up to your expectation
Still, you supported me as always without any complaint
Nothing can block the flow of your care & affection
Because I am your kid imperfect and you are my Papa perfect

I am indebted to Mom for choosing you as her life partner
My heartfelt gratitude to Grandpa & Grandma for nurturing you
I thank God every day for blessing me to be your daughter
Anything and everything in my life owes you, Papa…Owes you…

I know this post is a bit long
But all these words, phrases, sentences, punctuations, rhythm can’t express
How much I love you
What do you mean to me
Why do I adore you the most
Whatever I may write to you will be lesser than less
Because my day starts after receiving your good morning call
And sleep comes to me after touching your feet on my phone screen
Because your love for me was born even before my birth
And my love for you will grow till the end of my lifeline…
©ruchiabhisikta

A Home

Bricks of words
Concrete of punctuations
Beams of languages
Floor of theme
Roof of imagery
Colours of metaphor, simile, hyperbole and personification
Doors of characters
Windows of simplicity and twist
Rooms of poetry, prose and quote
When nomadic emotions of my heart and scattered vocabulary of my mind fell in love with each other,
then my pen transformed my diary into a sweet home to let them make some memories before they drifted apart one day.

©ruchiabhisikta

Realisation of a selfie

While taking a selfie,

I’m not so good at tilting my head in a perfect angle. I’m too bad at drawing a perfect smile on my face.

But each time I take a selfie,

I gaze at me so close, so fixed

I observe how peacefully hollowness slumbers in my eyes.

I see how my eyebrows have become wayward as if there is none to guide them.

I feel how my nose breathes imperfection so perfectly.

I notice how my chapped lips are tenacious enough not to vent out the volume of my heart in front of everyone.

I touch the pimple on my cheek to know if that full stop is going to fade away nearly or continue as an ellipsis.

I run my fingers on the alleys of my parted hairs and shivers with the thought what if oneday like this parted hairstyle the people I love so much will go in their own ways to never cross my path again.

Reading my face this way made me realize why I can’t fit into anyone’s definition of beauty. I realize how hard I am to be loved by someone.

And before clicking the selfie, I smile a little cornered thinking how this Abhisikta reigns her own little realm happily

with the flaws she possesses

with the elegance, she lacks…

©ruchiabhisikta

*Abhisikta is a Sanskrit word that means enthroned girl👸

Sea & Sky

Tangerine Sky was staring at the sea
solemnly

The slothful sea was humming in its own symphony

Quivering waves were kissing the Sun toasted sand gently

Drenched shore was greeting and leaving the waves in harmony

Romance of nature whispered something to my empty heart

The ink of my pen started drizzling on the pages of my diary

Then my deserted diary got flooded with pacific poetry

©ruchiabhisikta

Menstruation

Thousands of thorns piercing her abdomen

Continuous disturbance between her thighs

Even after swallowing forty-eight hours of deadly pain

Every month she cherishes her rebirth and magically survives again

Menstruation is the tears of grief of her aching body

Menstruation is tears of delight of her soul celebrating womanhood

She is the mysterious creation of Almighty

Poignant yet powerful, tender yet tolerant

©ruchiabhisikta

Voice of vibes

Sometimes my heart seems so hollow to float in the ocean of agony,
to be packed with garbage of frustration.

Sometimes my heart seems so tightly filled not to give an inch of space for hope,
not to contain a pinch of happiness.

I can’t express how fragile I feel at that moment. Then I just want to cut the whole of me into small fragments so that I can vaporize from the lives of people as soon as possible.

But at the next moment, I visualize fragments of me joining with each other in the shape of poetry. Tears cascade down my cheeks carrying all the negative vibes.

And then the whole of my soul gets enthralled with the fragrance of each fragment of mine that emanates positive vibes.
©ruchiabhisikta

That night I explored myself

“Sunken are your eyes
Nubian is your nose
Lacklustre are your lips
Pale is your complexion
You can’t sing melodiously
You can’t dance gracefully
You can’t act brilliantly
You are just good for nothing stuff
A personification of imperfection you are.”
Reflection in the mirror pointed at me sarcastically.

With a shrill voice, I murmured
“I know that in this world of makeup, show off where each one tries to cross the other in grabbing the attention of the crowd, very much backward I am. I feel low, crestfallen for that. But I am not sure if I want to change or not.

I had no courage to face the mirror for one more second. I ran to the rooftop, my favorite place just to cry breathlessly in front of shimmering stars. Cool zephyr wiped away the drops on my cheek before my lips sense the saltiness. I just closed my eyes, put my right palm on my left breast. I felt each of my heartbeat saying something.

“In this world where the relationship has become synonym polygamy, you still wait devotedly to pour all your amassed love on your would-be groom.
Nowadays people make friendship just to gain some benefit. But you avoid those friends for whom you really care, just fearing to get attached with them mentally. Maybe because you don’t think yourself deserved enough to remain in their lives forever.
In today’s age photos are clicked with a filter just to post and grab likes in social media. But you do what! You still caress some precious photos in your gallery, feel those moments before you sleep.
Girls don’t attend functions without dabbing makeup. And you don’t know how to apply even kajal. Maybe you don’t want to hide your natural aura under the layer of artificiality.
Now Youngsters don’t find it necessary to ask their parents for the suggestion in any matter. But you consider the decision of your parents as your confirmation in smallest to greatest matters.
People don’t even think twice to behave rudely with others to attain their mean motive. And you still shed bucketful of tears for hours if you contemplate that you hurt someone unintentionally.
Each fraction of your soul breathes uniqueness. Each inch of your heart is filled with selfless love. Why do you consider yourself as a misfit!
Why do you bind yourself in the rope of inferiority complex!
Never expect love from others by showing them the ‘Fake You’. Love yourself accepting all the flaws you own, all the qualities you lack. Don’t estimate your happiness in the view of others. Redefine your own happiness darling!”

No words can express how I was feeling at that very moment. Maybe then and there I explored myself.
©ruchiabhisikta

A devotee of nature

Jar of colours she is.

With crayon of bounty, she paints smile in his lips sometimes.

With crayon of loss, she draws lines of worry on his forehead sometimes.

She is his Goddess. He is her devotee.

She is the mother earth. He is the farmer.

She can change herself to the extent unexpected.

And he is destined to accept that unexpected.

©ruchiabhisikta

Dear diary

Sometimes everyone turns deaf to hear the thunder arising from my heart.

It seems everyone is blind to see
the flood in my eyes.

I find no hand trying to control that flood.

I trace no footprints coming for my rescue.

The entire world becomes handicapped to comprehend my plight.

Helpless me

At that moment I feel an eye gazing at me from the corner of my bookshelf. My diary

My pen flows ink as if it has been the patient listener to the thunder of my heart since long.

I locate the metaphors of positivity busy in making bunds to manage the flood in my eyes.

I notice a poetry rushing
to escape me from the calamity of my mind
to show me the sunshine of delight.

And I perceive the true essence of pen and paper.
©ruchiabhisikta

Batch Photo

Oneday batch photos will make you feel-

1. The people who once came closer hurriedly to fit in a frame have moved far hurriedly to fit in the world, in the society.

2. The weather of your eyes will change to rainy. Light of delight will shine from the corner of your lips. Your heart will get fertilized with the stored moments from the past. And memories will be cultivated.

3. You won’t notice the flowers in the background haven’t yet wilted. But for a while, you’ll feel the autumn in your body, in your mind turning spring.

4. That few second click doesn’t hold only fleeting candid poses and half-conscious smiles. It breathes millenium. You’ll realize it and a deep sigh will come out.

5. You are still loved and remembered by the people in the photo. It won’t be easy for you to believe this fact. Your belief will remain dangle somewhere a call away, a message away…

©ruchiabhisikta

Composing Complexity

Moments are captured continuously in the camera lens instead of living them fully,

Wearing a plastic smile with caption full of smiley instead of laughing wholeheartedly from within,

Selfies with hundreds of friends instead of loving any one of them selflessly,

Filtering the photos instead of enhancing the inner beauty with virtues,

Chatting with many people instead of giving some quality time to family,

Making new friends each day instead of being in contact with old buddies,

On special days flooding the timeline with pompous status instead of doing some special for lifelines,

Updating each and everything of life on social media instead of sharing secrets with a best friend,

Measuring own personality index by likes and compliments on photos instead of realisation of self-value by listening to the inner voice of the soul,

Peeping into the world of others instead of visiting the world of those who are truly yours,

The people inhabiting in the shade of all these are adored as socially active in the 21st century.

But actually are they weaving a scarf of relationship which may protect their life through thick and thin!
Or they are just tying unnecessary knots in the thread of life which may turn the straight thread of life into completely messy!

©ruchiabhisikta

Loving myself

Never compel yourself to be one among the majority

Instead, heartily embrace and appreciate your own individuality

No need to wrap yourself in the layers of intricacy

Instead, make your weakness of feeling simple things into your efficacy

Neither consider yourself as ordinary nor call yourself as unique

Instead, crown yourself being uniquely ordinary and stay crowned being ordinarily unique…

©ruchiabhisikta

Today more love is needed for myself, from myself🤣After all it’s 12th May😋

The speaking solitude

The sun also giggles

The clouds also cry

The wind also murmurs

The leaves also chatter

The ocean also loves

The mountains also salute

The moon also flirts

The stars also forgive

They are the speaking solitude of nature

Who can express much more

Without any oral communication

Simply by their graceful gesture

©ruchiabhisikta

All men don’t deserve blame

When media feed my mind with the incidents of rapes, domestic violence, & acid attacks, when in front of me surrounding places a platter of cases on eve-teasing, bullying & body shaming, when my heart gets empty seeing the torment of my girlfriends after being ditched for no reason by their undeserving boyfriends, then I don’t find a way without gulping the not-so-infamous sentence “All men are dogs”. I convince my conscience that the mentality & intentions of men are cheap & crooked which can never be straightened for good. I start to doubt myself for trusting the men around me & inside my head. But how can that sentence, that notion chew my belief when I have seen my father behaving his female colleagues with the utmost respect when I have seen him treating my mother like a monarch! How can that notion melt inside my mind when on the faces of my brothers I have seen the hesitation for staying long & overconsciousness for not making anyone uncomfortable during crossing a crowd of females, when I have seen my brother-in-laws making my sisters feel comfortable & fortunate after completely arranged marriages! How can that notion absorb the elixir of my trust when I have seen guilt grasping the man I admire after just saying zero size figure in front me, when I have seen him strengthening me mentally during my period cramps! How can I digest that notion when I have seen my guy friends standing for long to leave seats for girls in a congested place & not leaving until all girls come back during a visit to an unknown place. How can that notion churn my hope in humanity when I have seen my fellow male writers making me aware of the frauds bothering women & when the ink of their pens drop to enhance the women empowerment! How can I propel that notion deep inside my heart when I have seen the doctor in front of whom I once feared to uplift my dress treating female patients so genuinely when I have seen the security dada of our hostel not taking rest in spite of illness just for the sake of our safety! How can that notion continue peristalsis in my mindset when I have seen the driver uncle who drove in a crowded long route after guessing my fright without being concerned about his petrol & time, when I have seen my school guruji bandaging my wound with immense care & my coaching sir being extra careful about his hand movements after an unintentional hand to hand contact while clearing a doubt! How can I change my gratitude into hatred when I have seen goodness dripping from the personalities of many men I know! I think it’s completely lame to throw the mud of blame on a particular gender for the fault of some. Does the crime of some rubbish people of their gender thrust them into the pit of suspicion, don’t they deserve to be treated like good humans! One just needs to possess the right sense of distinguishing.
Biology teaches that it’s the high testosterone that makes a human a man, different from a woman. But who the hell fill the heads of many men that a woman’s body is all about discovering the underneath of bra straps & penetrating inside the panty! How can they forget that they are grown up to this age after being blessed by a vagina & a pair of breasts! If they aren’t feeling grateful for their origins, if they aren’t feeling guilty before committing such heinous crimes, then they aren’t dogs. Because dogs are faithful & these culprits shatter the faith of women in men, in human beings. They are demons meant to be eradicated from the world. They are dust meant to be wiped away from society.
Lastly, let me tell that all aren’t same. So all men don’t deserve blame. ©ruchiabhisikta

Exhausting Ego

Ego is that handcuff which doesn’t permit your hands to hug your beloved even if they are stretched.

Ego is that barrier which prevents the tears to come out of your eyes even if there is flood inside.

Ego is that drug which paralyzes your lips to confess your love even if feelings are impatient to transform into words.

Ego is that drumbeat which stimulates your feet to march fast alone even if they want to walk peacefully with another pair.

Ego is that shield which doesn’t allow your own emotions to penetrate your mind even if they have already escaped from your heart.

Ego is that weed which destroys the beautiful garden of love even if gardeners of love try their best to take care of.

Ego is that cancerous cell of the soul which on proliferation kills the spirit of the soul even if you possess good health and wealth…

©ruchiabhisikta

The love lyrics

Without words my emotions were like sand castles on beach.
Waves of time always washed them away.

Without emotions my words were like wild creatures in forests.
None had interest to approach them.

The benevolent couple, pen and paper
tried to unite my words and my emotions
And suceeded.
Another couple was made.
Another love story started.

Now each night my words and my emotions chant their love lyrics in harmony.
In that lyrics
I listen the voice of my heart,
feel the serenity of my soul…
©ruchiabhisikta

Thank you poetry!

Heart throbbing feelings
Suppressed emotions
If come out through lips
May put all the blame
Throw awful shame
On your name
Which will ultimately raise the flame
Of self-blame

But now inside the heart
They can’t remain as tame
Time has already arrived
At any cost to release them

No need to be worried
No need to be confused
Just unlock your heart
Bless them with liberty

Who knows!
To the world
They may appear as gems
They may achieve immortal fame
They may enlighten your name

Then you will exclaim and your success will make people exclaim
As the progenies of your heart, your thoughts, your emotions, your creativity
although same as before
are not lame as before

Now they have wings to fly in the sky of glee
They have voice to reveal the life’s mystery
Now they have united in verses
They have transformed into a poetry
©ruchiabhisikta

Cacophony of COVID-19

It’s April. It’s Spring. But throughout this month, you are feeling exhausted like summer, hibernated like winter, withered like autumn. This year spring hasn’t yet bloomed in you. Is it false!
Nature has already proved corona as a pandemic. Still sometimes, somewhere deep inside your heart you are thinking this phase of peril as an endemic, so severe, yet so confined. Isn’t it the truth!
At this moment, I’m also doubtful about life just like you. Still, let me tell you this with the hope that you’ll understand.

Now when you feel sad by cancelling your get-togethers, gang gossips, festivals and foreign trips,
Think about that family & friends who are losing the last chance to have the last glimpse of their dearest one by fearing to lose their lives in the hand of same life-burglar, COVID-19.

Now when you feel sad by looking at your covered vehicle from the window of your apartment because it hasn’t travelled miles since long days,
Think about that rickshaw puller whose all-time open house isn’t welcoming guests anymore & his all-time moving feet have turned immobile during these days.

Sitting cosily on a couch during your online classes, now when you feel sad by missing your class benches,
Think about that student for whom having an electronic gadget is a daydream & now mid-day meal of school has also become his/her dream.

Staring at the laptop during your work from home, now when you feel sad by realizing that office is more than job & job is more than salary,
Think about that maid whom you have denied to come to your home now & she has no work to do at her own home other than cursing her fate for getting less ration from Govt. distribution & lesser satisfaction than her hard-earned money.

Now when you feel sad for staying inside the home day to night, for sharing 24×7 hours with the same people, for being imposed with this long unwanted vacation,
Think about those who are also in vacation, but aren’t allowed to move to their home, Think about that person who is too tired of talking to mirror, too tired of taking care of own because s/he have none who feels like home.

Now when you feel sad for isolating yourself in a separate room even after returning to your homeland after long, still not having the company of your family & friends,
Think about that healthcare worker who is too addicted to the heartfelt hug of his/her little daughter/son, to the hand-feeding of his/her mother, to the gentle pat of his/her father, to the goodnight kiss of his/her sweetheart, but now he is bound to abandon those soothing addictions.

You will feel how some people, somewhere in the globe are bearing bigger, heavier & more sadness than that of yours.

And

You feel sad for that tiny plant on your college entrance which must have wilted without watering with its flowers unplucked.
But look! how the plant on your terrace is smiling now without shrivelling with your timely watering.

You feel sad for those stray animals whose stomachs are destined to be shaped according to the leftover food of restaurants and feasts.
But look! how the eyes of those pets are beaming with cheerfulness after getting extra attention which have long lost their lustre lacking a bit of affection from their busy owners.

You feel sad for those alone elderly couples for whom it’s getting too hard to manage household chores without the help of servants, who are feeling weaker each day, yet fearing to go to the hospital.
But look! how the young generation lovers are realizing that love is beyond that so-called ‘long-distance’ & more than the trending ‘physical closeness’.

You feel sad for not making the party plan with your friends into work, for not sharing more moments together.
But look! how the space between you and your family members is now getting squeezed when you have a deep conversation with them after the dinner & in between that when jokes flutter.

You feel sad for not appreciating your favourite street food vendors openheartedly, for not giving extra twenty bucks to the zomato delivery boy.
But look! how your mother is now busy in cooking delicious recipes to serve happiness to you & how a sweet smile gets baked on her face with your compliments.

You feel sad remembering the park who has lost all its fitness freaks, the playground who has forgotten the footsteps of those energetic players.
But look! how the wall near the betel shop isn’t getting freshly painted with spit & the air around it isn’t smelling smoky,
Look! how the people who used to find it impossible to survive without alcohol & drugs are learning to live without those, with the fear of becoming a culprit in front of their beloved families.

You feel sad thinking how the world has come to a halt, how the global economy is crashing down day by day.
But look! how humanity is rising with the realisation that lives mean much more than materials.
Look! how the environment is recovering from the pain of pollution.

Now when hopelessness is engulfing you, search for hope. Hope is staring at you from the place, which you never knew existed.

©ruchiabhisikta

//I dedicate the hearts and stars on this write-up to those hearts who have stopped beating after fighting with corona & to those star humans who are working too hard to make the civilisation win over this calamity.//

That eternal love

You fall in love. People say.
Fall! Seriously!
Does it mean gravity pulling you from the 10th floor of a building or your jump to the mid-ocean from ship unaware of swimming?
At least don’t say it to a girl like me who has a history of being discovered under the bed while asleep.
But I must say that each inch rise of my life is because of love. Love walks with my hand in hand in the thorny path of life, but never let me fall.

Love is blind. They claim.
How can I accept it? Tell me.
I have experienced that kind of love which has x-ray vision.
It detects my bruises, scars, flaws, tears that millions of eyes in the world can’t see.
It even shows me those so that I can be the better version of myself.

Love is a cage. Many argue.
But I never consider love as a cage, but it is a nest.
A nest which has built the today’s me, develops the courage within me. But it is the only thing I seek when I get tired of the whole world.

Lovers.
Two words pop in mind of many when I just said it.
Boyfriend and Girlfriend. Right!
But these two words never make any sense to me in relation to love. At least not till now. This is not my arrogance, but it is my devotion. Because I worship love.I am a devotee of love.
Love of both of yours, Baba & Mami
Anyone except you both has seen a part of me. But you both have seen each part of me, the whole of your Ruchi.
Still, you love me the way none does.
I can never love you the way you both love me.
But I must say that I love you the best possible way I can ever love anyone.
I loved you each passing moment and I will love you each coming minute.
Now wetness of my conjunctiva is trying to invade my phone screen.
Let me stop here.
©ruchiabhisikta

Picture copyright : We❤