LOL: Life Of Leo

(Pic: le Jardin, 1962, by Max Ernst) Nothing feels safe anymore I have been to hell and back I do not want this cruel existence I'm waiting to fade into black Beautiful blue waters know my pain Thoughts wander along the barren sand Happiness evades me by the second Unable to produce the magic wand The lush green trees haunt me Reminding me of all my crimes They were seeds a while ago While I smothered my own chimes A son they expect from me Seven daughters I had to kill My womb has become a cemetery Trying for an heir to their will I loved my unborn daughters Wanted them to see the world Those around wouldn't let that be With every birth, abuses were hurled Arrows are supposed to lead to a way But for me, they pierce my soul I'm only a child bearing machine Confined to a dusty hole They do not understand my agony I'm prisoned, until I bear a son Tied naked to a lone window This knot can never be u

Now that I have finished more than half a year of being married, I think I can talk about it. For those new here, well, I got married on the 22nd of March this year. Since then, I have been itching to write about the most talked about union in the word. But I waited patiently, for some experience, to learn a few things and unlearn more. Marriage sure is an eye opener, not necessarily because love is blind. Mostly because you start seeing a new phase of life, unfold before you. As much as I want to say that marriage doesn't change anything, the truth is that it does. Not me as a person, but the way I interpret and understand things. It might be different for different people, but I would say that marriage has brought out the best in me. Like I said, marriage has only changed the way I interpret things, not me as a person. And like I always say, its only a marriage, not rebirth. People who I did not even know existed have began to ask me as to why I haven't changed afte

" You know I love you na ." Sam whispered in to my ear as I was busy looking for yellow bangles. I turned around and give him the look that he is very familiar with. He smiles sheepishly as he pulls the dupatta from my hand and stretches himself to the topmost shelf of bangles. He finds the perfect shade there, and I see a look of triumph on his face. " What would I do without you? " I say as I try on the bangles. He drags me towards the mirror as I pose highlighting the bright yellow. The bangles glisten in the sun and shine on my face. The afternoon heat was not as much as I had expected. A weekday was the best to shop in the streets of Bangalore. Sam as usual had insisted on accompanying me. He stared at me in the mirror, with love lorn eyes. I look at him and smile. " You know I love you na ." He says lunging forward to hug me. " Sameeeeeer ." I yell and run towards the bhaiyyaji to pay him for the bangles. My bargaining skills we

Her bright smile hides everything The red dances on her lips Her brushed hair stands shining  Falling with melody down her hips The delicate earrings shy away As her eye elongates its sight The mirror recognises her face And the strange others at night A day of her hard work Means looking ready and nice The men who ogle at her must think That she is worth their price Every scar must be hidden Flowing tears should leave no trace Presented to hungry wolves likes a toy Shedding her clothes and her grace Her red lips get hurt and bitten Her tiny waist pinched and burnt To bear it all was the only lesson In this place that she had learnt Her day starts with the setting sun Being held up proudly on sale Her master has the art of selling To the prying eyes of the male They walk in and out of her room Without allowing her a second of rest Taking away her soul and dignity Praising her for being the best The other gi

With a very heavy heart I forgave him the first time I ignored it like a mistake When it actually was a crime He accepted that he cheated Said that he had stooped low Hiding my self respect in my heart For love, I just let it go Everything seemed fine after that Like a queen he treated me I was back to worshipping him Then he stung me like a bee He had strayed again Without an ounce of guilt I left him one Friday night My trust for him was spilt He cajoled me into returning Said he would never do it again I was lonely and vulnerable He took advantage of my pain He held my hand and swore to me I only love you, he repeatedly said I did not want to believe him But for him, my heart bled I was a head strong woman But life without him was an empty pit Forgiving him again felt like a sin Cheating was becoming his habit I thought for hours and days If I should end it or go back If he had to go to other women

I said here , that a writing forum has asked for my interview. Here we go guys. I'm feeling so thrilled and proud that I have no words to express it. It could not have been done without the support of you people. Thank you so much. I'm indebted to all of you. Read my interview for BlogAdda here . ~ Soumya

Life Moves on Sun shall shine The past must leave Be prepared for it Nature intended this How can you try to change it Destiny or fate, it is yours It is up to you, which path you take Pain of yesterday or smiles of today This is my first attempt at an Etheree . The below one is a reversed Etheree . She watched from far and shed a silent tear When he kissed his bride at the alter She smiled and laughed at his tales Knowing he loved someone else Stood by his side always Without him knowing More than herself Him Truly She did Love ~ Soumya

Screech! Sunil brought his car to a halt. Beads of perspiration dripped down his face. He closed his eyes and breathed in. Then, slowly he stepped out. He walked up to the shop in the corner. The shop keeper looked at him suspiciously. " Water bottle. One. " Sunil said pointing to the fridge. The shop keeper got it for him. Before he could mention the amount, Sunil grabbed the bottle from his hand and opened it. Splash! He threw a few handfuls of water on his face. And emptied the rest of its contents down his throat. He threw the bottle in the dustbin beside the shop and pulled out a clean white handkerchief from his pocket. Thud! He heard a noise. He looked down to see his bunch of keys lying on the ground. Cursing himself, he picked it up and put it back in his pocket. He wiped his face clean and looked at the shop keeper with a raised eye brow. " Twenty rupees. " The shop keeper said. Sunil handed him a five hundred rupee note. The shopkeeper

Honestly, I was never a fan of Indian writers. Having grown up on Danielle Steel and Jeffery Archer, I always found Indian authors to be not up to the mark. Well, I was no one to judge I know, but I do have the right for an opinion. Chetan Bhagat managed to change my mind when " Five Point Someone " came along. But I was soon back to square one after his next. I had turned cynical and refused to pick up another book from an Indian author. My next experiment was " You Are here " by Meenakshi Reddy Madhavan. Two chapters into the book and I couldn't bear it anymore. " Almost Single " too had the same effect on me, except the fact that I stopped at two pages instead of two chapters. " Two States " was the last Indian author book that I read. And I was determined to keep it that way. When I decided to toy around with the idea of writing a book myself, I wanted to check what was it about Indian writers that irked me so much. I might be o

green becomes red natural progression no bias - life! This haiku is written for the Write Tribe Contest 2 at Write Tribe . ~ Soumya

( image by crilleb50) With your thoughts in my mind Waiting for you I sit here all day I've been here since forever I have the will but not the way Its been really long since you left How am I supposed to get over it Time just paused that very second On the day they lowered you into the pit The land is no longer barren Tiny flowers have began to sprout Am I the only one frozen in time I've begun to have my own doubt My tongue hasn't said a word The chirp of the bird is all I hear The chimes of time do give me company Ticking away without any fear My walking stick has not walked a step A part of me has been brutally torn My clothes are covered in dust Your memories are what I adorn When will the melancholy end How does this chapter close Even if time does actually heal What is the prescribed dose Written for  The Magpie Tales: Mag 189 . ~ Soumya

Read Random Rant #1 here . The best part of life Is that it goes on It all falls into place After dusk, always come dawn ~ Life's been pleasant and smooth. No longer I have to worry about the calm before the storm. ~ The team of Tamarind Rice is the best ever. They sent me heavenly gifts for my winning post.  ~ The book of poetry they sent me has blown my mind. This had me thinking, maybe I should publish my poems too. But do others love poetry as much as I do? ~ I finally narrowed down on a concept for my book. The plot, characters and emotions are ready. All I need to do, is to start penning. ~ I'm learning a lot at my work place. I might climb up another rung in the ladder soon. ~ You need to learn to love your work, no matter what. Else, you wouldn't be doing justice to it. Or yourself. Love gives you strength That's all you need to live The equation is simple You only get, what you give ~ Do good. Always. I&

Patience has never been one of my virtues. And when I say never, I mean never. I am one of those glass breaking, throwing things around, hurling abuses kind of person when I get angry. Normally it takes a lot to tick me off, and I explode only when I'm provoked. But when I do, then God save the world. Believe me, I've done some dangerous things when I've got angry. Its just for that moment or two, after that I settle down like nothing ever happened. People close to me recognize this pattern of mine and play along beautifully. They listen patiently as I spew my guts out and walk away leaving me with myself for a while. A few minutes later they come back and we talk peacefully. Until that topic is mentioned again. If it is, then the cycle repeats. Well, I'm not here to tell you guys how demented I am. You all know that irrespective of what I post. The thing is that I've now realized how important this tiny thing called " Patience " is. Post marriag

I love you More than everything Nothing else shall ever matter Its you who was meant to be mine The one who stole my heart The one whom I yearn for  Shall always be you The best gift of God The best gift of God Shall always be you The one whom I yearn for The one who stole my heart Its you who was meant to be mine Nothing else shall ever matter More than everything I love you This is a palindrome poem. Read it from the top or the bottom it is still the same. Written for Poetry Jam . ~ Soumya

You know that your writing/blog is good when: ~ You get published for the sixth consecutive time on Tamarind Rice . ~ You get the award for the best post on the magazine. ~ A writing forum asks for your interview. ~ You have more blog friends than regular friends. ~ The number of posts per month increases in a ramp. ~ People gossip about your posts. ~ The main topic of discussion on certain issues remain posts from your blog. ~ People take print outs of your posts. ~ You log in to your blog at 11 am and see that 397 people have already visited it that day. ~ People hide under the 'Anonymous' tag to put up their unsolicited comment. ~ Old acquaintances on Facebook send you a message saying that they love your blog. ~ The overall visits of your blog crosses 2,00,000 views. ~ People give away rent free space on their mind, assuming what you wrote is about them. ~ People try to change themselves based on what you hav