In a space.


In a space where
life beyond grace does not exist,

In a space where
grace is fooled to be taken to levels beyond life,

In a space where
fear fears disgrace and disharmony,

And in a space where
harmony befriends disharmony and then cheats on it,

There alone will there be a balance of thought and universe,
though that in- INEQUALITY, PREJUDICE, PURPOSE and PAIN.

– Stuti

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Change but why?


An age undefinable,
A period unidentified,
Equations changed,
Without a clue, without being glorified.

Her ideals she wanted to wrap,
And throw them in the trash.
Her lessons she wanted to dump,
And term them ‘system crash’.

Maybe the world will never know the real reason,
But could she care less?
Maybe the world will mock on her actions,
But she had her own interests at the behest.

She was once proud of it all,
But now couldn’t detest the feeling more.
Once a champion of these situations,
Her heart now inconsistently wept like a drum roll.

Too much pain all around,
She chose what she had to.
Adorned a smile pretty to hide her tears,
The girl now determined THROUGH AND THROUGH.

-Stuti

Betrayed.


She opened her eyes,
And felt blessed to have been born.
She blinked only once,
And her misconceptions were gone.

 
Her breath she realized,
Was a pain to others.
Her freedom only stifled,
Was shown exaggerated to her brothers.

 
She did one thing,
Was interpreted as another.
Her effort always taken for granted,
She wondered why even bother!

 
Each passing day alternated for her,
One day fair, next two unfair.
She despised living in this world
Of unfair treatment and beastly despair.

 
When asked to summarize her position one day,
She was at loss for words.
Yet she picked up a pen and paper, only to write thus:
I was born happy and bright, but now I feel BETRAYED”.

-Stuti

Ideas.


A speak of blue,
A silver speck,
A yellow blob,
A red freckle.

A mind in a maze,
The girl amazed,
Today a surprise,
Tomorrow a puzzle.

She walked towards it,
Or on its own it neared.
The problem cornered her,
Considering her dear.

Ideas million in her mind,
She always thought about them.
No time to do them any,
Time only a lame defense!!

One day all ideas disappeared,
And only a pool of abstract remained.
That day the ideas all ditched her,
No ideas now, NO PAIN?

-Stuti

Pained.


There was pain in her eyes,
But no one could see it.
There was pain in her thoughts,
But no one could feel it.

She stared at the people around her,
Muzzling like a million bees at once.
She stared into the space around her,
Suddenly making her feet cold.
 
She found herself in a precarious position,
And feeling weak at the drop of a hat.
She felt betrayed but as if for no reason,
And knew there was no reason to be glad.
 
Overwhelmed, she wanted to cry,
But could not really.
Emotionally deflated, she wanted peace,
But could not find it really.

She trembled at the thought of smile,
Yes, that much did it scare her.
She shivered at the thought of joy,
A wonder, the thought could even strike her.

So instead she chose to close her eyes,
And imagine happiness, contentment and peace.
Because really only there and there alone,
Did the concept exist, did she feel comfortable, did she feel AT EASE.

-Stuti

The message.


As she typed out the last message,
She resolved not to type another.
As she read up the last reply,
She decided never to wait for another.

She had always contemplated the non- obvious,
And was scared of it.
She had many times thought of the non- precarious,
And prayed it was not true.

Yet these messages today
Scared her, made her uneasy.
Yet these messages today
Made her hate her destiny.

And as she decided to wrap up this chapter today,
Her mobile blinked and made a noise.
She turned around and checked to find another message there,
Picked it up, typed a reply, sent it away,
She had once again broken her promise to herself,
Her heart in her mouth, she now just could not bear the PAIN.

-Stuti

Unknown


She stifled for reasons unknown
Her heart sang some song in a non- chalant tone
She wanted to sing, she wanted to dance
Her throat refused to co- operate, her legs did not give her a chance

 
She was happy that day,
For reasons mysterious
She was jolly that day
For which she had reasons of her own.

But as she danced, she was reminded of someone
But as she sang, she was reminded of that one
These people had broken her heart time and again
These people did not matter to her, but still managed to give her pain.

 
So, she talked, she talked, she talked some more
And gradually it turned into a whisper, a whimper and then nothing more
Her ideas, her pen, her stories untold
Her pain, her shallowness, and fears UNKNOWN.

-Stuti

The couch and the connection.


The red couch called out to her
She hadn’t been on it for some days now
She had fondly always called it her ‘thinking couch’
It bore this tag like a crown.
The couch was seated in the main area of the sitting room,
It looked out to a green park
Whenever she was upset or happy,
She would sit in it and rejuvenate to get her spark.
But now the couch had seen her cross it day and night
She did not stop, she did not show delight
It knew that something was wrong
But what could it do, it was only a couch and didn’t know what to do about her plight.
Then one day after some days,
She came back to sit on the couch.
She was not at ease,
The couch could feel the ouch.
The girl cried and cried and could not stop
Her tears would just constantly drop
And as if the couch had ears and could console her,
She talked to it and talked again
She revealed her story, she revealed her pain.
Her eyes swollen, her voice numb,
She disclosed her pain, her voice barely a hum.
She cried because she felt sad about how she could not help that some things happened
She cried because she could not help that some things anyway happened.
Her story the couch heard patiently,
It wished it could tell her that-
Happening and not are a part of the same life,
One must learn and teach from experiences wide
But just then the girl shouted out loud
She shrieked, she howled, she fell down on the ground
And that is when the couch just broke and fell too
As if to prove that, with every happening, there existed a CONNECTION TOO.

-Stuti