It's tough being a girl
in a world that is neither progressive nor backward.
You have to fight, fight, fight.
Sometimes your own expectations
for standing up for yourself.
Sometimes others
for standing up for yourself.

Then there are times when you don't
just want to take a stand at all.
You want to curl and lay back.
But no! The progress of this society rests on your shoulders.
A responsibility you did not take!
But when you are fighting for your,
just your own rights, all alone,
you wish you had taken the responsibility.
Maybe, just maybe you would get more support.

Girls can't drive!
You throw like a girl!
Clich├ęs. Bias.
You want to curl up and cry.
What's wrong in the tiny, salty droplets?
You are human and a sensitive soul.

And each time, you feel stronger,
ready to take on the world,
let not the ogling or the low mentality get in your way.
You have pain,
in your back,
in your stomach,
mood swings, PMS.
You want to curl up and sleep.
You want to not step out
because these periods are uneasy and difficult.

It's a gift.
It's your friend.
It's a sign of your productivity,
they say.
It's a freaking achievement!

Feminist. Feminazi. Fem whatever.
You made these tags.
Then you fight the stereotypes.
You judge, sometimes your own kind.
You just...
You just want to curl and just be you.
Whatever that is.


I wish your memories
were like the clementine in my hair,
It would fade, fade, fade.
Until that one day, when it would be gone.

And sad as I would be,
Life would be back to normal,
boring even.
But pure. Without an eye sore.

I had wanted you like I needed air,
And once you got into me,
I couldn't breathe.
You had to go.

It took time,
But I excepted my fate.
I had to say goodbye,
to my clementine.


Are you lonesome tonight?
Do you miss me tonight?
Sings Elvis Presley in the background.
I don’t.

Yesterday was my birthday.
Today is a new day.
Sitting at a wedding bar,
I drink nothing.

An old aunt, one that I always avoid
catches me.
I know the question in her mind.
After a few pleasantries, she spells it out.

So, when are you getting married?
I tell her my standard reply
As soon as I find someone worthy.
She calls me picky.

I want to yell just two blessed words to her.
But I stay quiet.
I don’t want her to complain to my mom.
My parents have their own challenges to fight.

But seriously, that question has hounded me for long.
I wish there was an easy answer.
But there isn’t.
Initially, it was a grieving heart.

Then it was the angry one.
Emotions fogged my eyes.
I pushed people away.
Then I complained no one stayed.

I was never devoid of attention.
Even though I was Xenia or Wonder Woman
Who slayed people with words.
But the search never ended.

Am I picky I sometimes wonder.
Yes, I am. And proud of it too.
Because just liking someone won’t do.
I want love, the never fletching type.

The one that is not afraid of the storm,
Or the rough weather.
The one that supports through every crack and

The one that protects you while you have doubts
And empowers you to fight the big bad world.
The one that asks and talks.
The one that is practically contemporary.

If there was ever a term like that.
The one that is so deep that it doesn’t needs
boxes or terms to put it in.
The one that accepts all the flaws and celebrates it.

The one that teaches and learns.
But most importantly evolves stronger with time.
And it is complicated. I don’t deny.
But that is where its beauty lies.

Yesterday, was my birthday.
I look at my old aunt,
Raise a tequila shot to my name
and walk away.


He talks
I talk
We write words
But I don't think we really communicate.

Cause at the back of my mind
I am alone
And with him
more misunderstood than ever.

He sends me an image
There's no meaning in anything anymore
But what if all I am searching for
is something buildable.

These pieces that he is putting together
Make no sense anymore.
They would have
if I wasn't this damaged.

But that's alright
Cause I have made my peace.
Like a Gypsy Queen I fly from
person to person

in search of the magical portion
that will restore my faith.


There is no one else,
I would talk to rather now.
Sharing words, exchanging thoughts.
Your words comfort me at times.

And yet, I feel alone.
Defeated by my thoughts,
Words that fail me
I have a difficult time,
Understanding them often.
Mostly so, when others speak a language I have a beef with.

In a world that is sexist.
In a world that discriminates.
I demand. I control. I fail.
Respect is earned.

My mind craves intelligence,
Conversations that are beyond the usual.
I don't think normal, cause I ain't so.
In a hustling world, I want to push forward
in any direction, in all directions.
Because some thoughts are defeating, some people disappointing.

I want to raise above them.
With you or without.
There is no one else,
I would talk to rather now.
Because you... don't, just don't
how crazy I am turning out to be.
Or how unafraid we must all be in this beautifully cruel world.


He and me,
We play with words.
Cause that's all we have
to give each other.

We are not lovers,
not even freaking friends.
Just two crazy souls
in love with words instead of people.


Let's take it slow
I say to him
Cause he is messing with my mind.
The push and pull,
the hot and cold.

He is the fire
to my cold existence.
But the pace he wants to run at
is simply not my style.

Call me old fashioned
or plain cautious.
But this girl didn't turn over night
into a woman.

I have my doubts on him,
so I will let him run a while.
Alone. If he returns,
maybe, just maybe 
I will let him walk besides me.


Between the goey chocolate cake
and a few laughs with friends,
I didnt realise how late it was
or how slowly the drizzle had turned
into a downpour.
I was stuck.
It thought it would soon disappear.
But life was about to laugh at my naivety.

I looked around in panic,
My buddy was silent,
Lost in his own concerns,
worried about getting home.
I should have said something, anything.
I didn't.

In my panic, I didn't realise
how lost my other two friends were.
Conversing with each other,
without a care for the weather or their situation.
She smiled. He talked. Vice verse.
They knew it would be only a matter of a few hours.

As soon as the clouds walked away,
so did my buddy.
He could have been my night in shining armour,
but missed an opportunity.
Instead, the couple waited,
held my hand and led me to safety.

As I travelled in the chaos,
All I could think of was these two.
Friends. Trust partners. Comfortable allies.
I needed to learn a thing or two
absout life, about love, about friendship.
About being human, about caring, giving and receiving.
About these stupid rains and about having fun.


We are not stupid people,
just people making stupid mistakes.
Stuck on my ex,
stalking him on Facebook.

I finally confessed to my bestie.
She said I needed a
kick up my bum.
But then she understood.

Together we blocked him
from my Facebook,
then Snapchat and Twitter.
I am on my way to recovery.


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