Fighter.


She felt like a puppet,
Not because everybody manipulated her.
There were reasons other,
None standard, yet all better than any other.

Her dreams were standard,
She didn’t hope for anything too fancy.
And so the pauses seemed faulty,
She hadn’t signed up for a ride so bouncy.

But life then questioned her very existence one day,
Asking, “When did I ever invite you over? Now handle it Miss!”
Taken aback, she was afraid that life was right,
She herself infact, was the reason of the bouncy and the plight.

It had started the same for everybody,
No plus, no minus, at the same level.
It was she herself who had made it the way it was for her today,
A puppet, a wishful dreamer, jolted, and each minute A FIGHTER.

– Stuti

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Around her neck.


A dream so lovely,
She couldn’t have dreamt it herself.
A thought so well thought,
It left her thinking hard.

She drew a table for it all,
A chart, a diagram, a roadmap, a graph.
She attempted to organize it so,
Her stream of thoughts didn’t haywire go.

Slowly and slowly as she unraveled the story then,
She desired to master the consequences even.
She wanted to chalk out her own route,
Her destiny, her tryst, her plight, her moods.

Some cold memories, some bitter shocks,
A path uncertain, and sweet talks.
The end is all that mattered but like it or not,
She carries around her neck all the time, a giant ALBATROSS!!

-Stuti

Black Kohl.


Her eyes black kohl laden,
She dreamt but her dreams were black.
She tried to wipe the soot away,
But it stuck there, there in the deep black shack.

She didn’t know how to wipe the colour,
She didn’t know how to keep it,
She knew it had to go but,
The black too dense and bleak-ed.

Next day she did not apply the black,
She put some brown instead.
Surprising as this was,
At day ending, it turned black and dead.

She tried to understand the significance of this black,
A black blacker than black it was.
When finally she understood it (or so she thought),
The purpose of the black was to make the other colours SHOW.

-Stuti

Some days dull.


Some people special,
Others not so much.
Both combined,
Formed her world.

Her life a maze of roads,
She carefully decided what she chose.
A left turn here, a right turn there,
She gaped for air, she didn’t want more.

Her zest for life, a picture colourful,
She somehow saw it black and white.
Her colours in life, more than many,
The only she saw were grey and light.

Some days happy,
Some days dull.
She hated mostly all,
Only loved some special.

Then one day she promised herself,
Not to pursue her dream.
It was difficult very after that,
After she let that one dream go.

But then suddenly just like the change of weather
One day everything got better (and she didn’t know how!)
She felt much eased, her pain was gone,
And then her heart felt LIGHTER.

-Stuti