Tag: Pain

Too much.

Too much.

It’s been a while. Hey! I hope you like this. It’ll mean a lot to me if you can share this with your friends through the buttons at the bottom of every post. Do share if you like it and let me know if you did in the comments section. Also, tell me what breaks your heart. Enjoy!

Steve was heartbroken the day Husky died but was always afraid to admit it because he believed heartbreaks had become cliché. There were too many poets writing about it, too many eyes crying over it, too many stories ending because of it. He believed heartbreaks had become ‘too much’ and he was born a minimalist.

Continue reading Too much.
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Not all dates are the same.

Not all dates are the same.

Before you start reading, two translations you might need – ‘baba’ means father and ‘ammi’ means mother. I hope you like this

It’s very tough to remember how a conversation played out when it has been a few years and you’ve not even thought about it once. Luckily for me, I had a map that helped me remember every important detail. This map was made out of lyrics and tunes that we sang together. The first song was an instrumental that went on for about six minutes. We spent those minutes just looking and trying to draw mental sketches of each other Continue reading Not all dates are the same.

For all of us.

For all of us.

Creativity stems from happiness
and happiness from us.
You’ll also find it stuffed inside a Thanksgiving turkey
or playing hide-and-seek with you.
I believe happiness is like a new puppy
Young,
crazy,
comforting,
yours.
(also, happiness is a new puppy
or any puppy.)
Creativity often seeps through
a pain-soaked pillow, too.
A pain-soaked pillow is a story-teller
that emphasizes the right words
whispers its way to the tragic ending
and in my case,
bows down when done.
Memories are the best muse
because they’re the 18-hour-long
exact scene to scene replica
of our book
and that’s something we’ve all always wanted.
Why is this for all of us?
Because we are all artists.
Here’s a short story in a poem
or as I like to call it
‘a beautiful distraction’
(I hope you thought of the person
who broke your heart
because I did)
When Rao made sandals
from unused or old car wheels
and smiled when his daughter
didn’t complain about rocks the next day
you should’ve seen the smile on his face.
Happiness. Pain. Memories.
So hi, artist.
You’ve got so much to learn.

Previous posts: Maybe – A shadow dance.
Instagram: @myspirals

Give me prompts in the comment section. Oh, and share this a lot, please?