pixie dust.

[lemonadesandlavender]

Grief is the jewellery in my mother's wooden boxes.

Swipe to read.

I am my mother's future.

My grandma always read in her jain 'aagamas', we are living in the 'Dukham ara', which is symbolic of unhappiness for the next 21000 years, and I always took it by surprise.

Until I took a look inside my mother’s eyes, the wrinkles on her forehead, the tight bangles she has wore since I can remember, and the pallu tucked in a side of her saree.

I guess the 'aagamas' don’t lie!

Does my mom know what will become of me in the far future? Is that why she wants to give all the smiles she can right now? Is that why she sacrifices a little more each day? Is that why she is drowning to hold me afloat? Does she secretly hope we go back 2500 years to start anew?

How selfish of me to think she is always thinking about me! She IS always thinking about me. Prove me wrong.

I think she pretends to be eclectic when she’s adorning herself with the jewels she has collected over the years, in the hope that one day her daughter will inherit those, in slight dismay.

I’ve never been a brave girl my whole life, but she’s not said a word about it, maybe she knows the bravery comes by itself as we grow.

All of the pools of seawater I see inside her eyes and in the wrinkles of her forehead hold a mystery each and I am not even curious to destroy them, my maa has never taught me to be eager to know answers.

She says in her sleep, ‘the later you know, the better'.

My maa gives me happiness while she drowns in grief. I am scared of water and she has been telling me to learn swimming. Now, I know why.

[lemonadesandlavender]

His money in gambles, our future in shambles.

Swipe to read.

Every god is a dad but every dad isn't a god.

He is sitting there still, maybe blinking two times in a span of 4 minutes and intertwining his fingers in the hope that god likes complicated, unsolvable things, especially when men do them. He prays to god, let this be a good game, let me be a good man, let them breathe clean air.

His hands sweat so much that the cards are now soaked and losing their colour little by little, but his eyes don’t. They want to win. They want to inhale the scent of victory and fulfillment.

God looks at him and cries salty tears, bitter even. He made brains and the man left them to rot away, dusting a day here, a day there. It is not supposed to be like this. Oh, it hurts. He cannot cope with any of it anymore. He has left the premise.

The man has been sitting there left alone and he doesn’t even realize the absence of god and keeps trusting the darkness. The clouds turn gloomy and all the other eyes are now sharp and lined with kohl. Losing a game had never felt so pointy before.

The ropes of his traces are loosening from his hand now, he doesn’t even try to hold onto them. Maybe he just wasn’t supposed to carry all of this load on his back, maybe he just isn’t made by god.

The little eyes are now devoid of any moisture and the little ears do not agree to listen to anything except the deafening white noise. Maybe the little noses are accustomed to smell the reek of alcohol from a mile away and maybe the little throats try to puke as soon as it hits them.

The god looks at them and cries sweet tears, bland even. Hoping to be a good god, hoping to be a good dad.

[lemonadesandlavender]

I lie awake in the night

Swipe to read.

Idk how schizophrenia feels like.

I rest my head on the pillow pretending it is your shoulder or a burning pan on a cold winter night, and focus into the nothingness of my room or your slow beating heart, it doesn’t matter what I choose anymore.

I look at all the things I left unattended on the chair, on the desk, on the floor, a quarter filled mug with coffee and a lipstick stain I wore for nobody in particular, a worn off sweater I was supposed to hand over to grandma to fix it up a little bit, cause I cannot sleep if not wearing it and a pile of safety pins mom gave to fix up my kurta, I heard ‘emotions'.

They have been taking various indifferentiable shapes, the lights are facing the opposite side, some look like your arms extending towards me and then retracting as soon as i go to touch them with my fingertips, some like a welled up form of you, remembering all the times we didn’t kiss and left each other’s presence.

I have not blinked my eyes since then, just for the sake of not losing you into the oblivion, just so that you could keep living with me forever and look into my eyes to say how I looked so beautiful even with severe bed hair and groggy eyes.

I don't think you have a name or an identity card of any kind, but I know you exist, you definitely do, at least in my mind.

I lie awake in the night, night after night and it doesn’t matter what I choose anymore.

[lemonadesandlavender]

Don't be the seconds hand of the clock

Swipe to read

I'm a fool like that

I will be standing here when there is 12 on the clock, waiting for the deepest dark of the night to pass and the sun to rise in its full glory

Or maybe on the 3 if you want, waiting for every belly to be filled with food.

I will be watching you coming towards me at 6 on the clock, so that we could watch the sunset and feel the jitters of the almost cold wind.

Maybe on the 9, so that the lullabies dont sound so strange anymore and I will do this over and over again until the 3 of the next day strike on the clock, through the night, relentless and sleepless.

You just have to promise me, you will not be the seconds hand, passing by each of me like a passing current of wind, trying to be worthy but failing miserably.

At this point, you’re supposed to say, I will stay for as long as you want, unless it’s eternity.

And I will be happy and working again, relentless and sleepless. For I'm a fool like that.

[lemonadesandlavender]

A father's ability to choose his children over the pots of gold kept at two extremes of the rainbow might be so unbelievable to the god himself, that he kept it in the books altogether.

[lemonadesandlavender]

Create a little ebb of eternity everytime you die inside.

[lemonadesandlavender]

A movie that demands to be seen!

The Kerala Story, a movie released on 5 may, 2023 is a true crime documentary based on the wrongdoings the girls of kerala have been suffering from.

Shalini, geetanjali, nema are the three girls which are focused to be taken in an extremely well planned trap by a community of hundreds of muslims. They are set to be converted and sent in either as sex slaves or suicide bombers.

The movie shows how atrociously the Muslim ruin the lives of the girls one by one. Thousands of girls from kerala have yet to find justice and the perpetrators are still roaming around freely in the towns of kerala without any remorse.

This movie needs to be seen by the younger generation of girls to be aware of the happenings around us. And by the whole world to be ready to protect each and every one of us.

[lemonadesandlavender]

We were like January and December.

Swipe to read.

Opposites attract.

The story starts with me and ends on you.

You're like the last month of the year,

Everybody wants to sleep in your vigorous addiction

Me too.

I’m like the first month of the year.

I mark the end of your cool.

As soon as you come anywhere near me you lose the barrier of the tough exterior

The thick woolen shawls get replaced by a smile and long sleeve t shirts.

Your eyes count the stars under the moonlight and I go in the living room to turn on the cooler.

The story starts with you and ends on me.

[lemonadesandlavender]

How honest do you want me to be?

Swipe to read.

The real questions.

Should I tell you all the ways you don’t stand a chance against my ever increasing fear of god and a little bit of crippling anxiety?

Should I crawl over the mountains on all fours and try to jump off the cliff only to wait till you come finding me and tell me not to, hold me tight until I forget all of my sorrows?

Should I just park my car in the no parking zone?

Should I kill everybody who even thinks I am a b*tch? You ask how do I know? I can walk into people’s minds on my fingertips. God gave me a superpower the day he made me.

Should I tell you the story of that time my mum beat me until I stopped crying and locked myself in a room until the next sunrise only to cry the whole night?

Should I tell you how I wanted mum to see my puffy eyes after that night just like my mum did? I am my mother’s daughter after all.

Should I tell you how I think this is world is absolutely unfair and it still looks a little lavender and a little yellow to me?

[lemonadesandlavender]

जैसे पेड़ से फल गिरते हैं।

Swipe to read.

तुम कैसे बाकी की दूनियाँ से अलग हो।

माना था मैंने एक ज़माने में, तुम जैसी आखे मैने न अपने बरामदे पर खडे रहकर सडक पर से अपने एक हाथ में राशन से भरी थैली और दूसरे हाथ मे अपने नन्हे की उंगली पकडे गुज़रते हुए किसी अनजान की देखी है, न शीशे में।

कई साल यूँही बीत गए, अब भी हम रोज़ सुबह शाम एक दूसरे को देखते है, कभी प्यार तो कभी तृष्णा की नज़रो से।

बाहर आँगन मे इकलौता पेड जो तुमने इतनी शिद्दत से पाल पोसकर बढाया है, मै हर दूसरे दिन उसे पानी पिलाती हूँ, वह मुझसे यूँ बातें करता है जैसे मै बहती हवा हूँ, उसके जीवित होने का एक मूल्य कारण।

उस पेड़ पर अब कई फल उग आए है और मैं वादा करती हूँ, जैसे ही वे फल अपनी जगह उस नम ज़मीन पर बनाएँगे, मै एक एक फल को रसोई के ओटे पर रखी लाल टोकरी मे सजा दूँगी, ताकि जैसे ही तूम लौटकर आओ, तुम्हारी आँखे मुझ ही को तराशे।

उस ही पल मे मुझे ये भी समझ जाएगा कि तुम्हारी आँखे इस पूरे ज़माने की आखों से अलग नही हैं, बस उनकी अगन मेरे आँखो में झाँकते वक्त कुछ कर बैठती हैं, जिससे मेंरी साँसों अटक जाती हैं और मुझे जीने की एक और वजह मिल जाती है, बिल्कुल उस गिरे हुए फल की तरह।

[lemonadesandlavender]

Tempt, clap and intend.

Swipe to read.

Self control.

Someone claps in a corner of the world seeing some indie musician singing their heart out, a guitar hanging around their shoulder, surrounded by expensive golden lights and people well dressed. The plates in front of them seem fake, their pants aren’t rightfully heavy.

Someone intends to turn up their defense mechanism and somehow wakes up on the wrong side of the bed and starts inhaling anything but life.

I am tempted, I really am, but my dad’s smile and my mum’s moist eyes remind me of one thing I inherited, self-control.

[lemonadesandlavender]

List of reasons to keep breathing.

Swipe to read.

Know your worth, seek help.

1.       By your warmth, The ice on your palm needs to melt and the water then needs to evaporate to go into the clouds to give the earth a beautiful rainy season and the annoying umbrellas and mud.

2.       Your eyes need to experience a shooting star once in their lifetime or if not, maybe a searing scar.

3.       The bus you once spent your childhood in going back and forth from the school needs to see your face once again, to hear your shrieks once again.

4.       The books in your tbr list and your desk need to be read still.

5.       The sun might just stop radiating it’s Sundays if your lungs stop working, who knows?

6.       Your grandma is preparing the kaccha aam for the summer mandatory achaar, and the porcelain jar might go to waste if you don’t taste it anymore.

7.       The bracelets your ex boyfriend once gifted you need a wrist to carry them, we don’t leave the past behind, we embrace it.

8.       The heart in your chest is made by the god to beat at the rate of 72 beats per minute and you will be called a felony if you try to do otherwise.

9.       Your pinky finger, alive at that, still is meant to get linked with another.

10.   Just because you are worth every cell in your body.

[lemonadesandlavender]

One eats you and you eat another.

Swipe to read.

Two types of grief.

You see, us human beings go through several tunnels in our life. Some we see and deliberately go beneath and some we don't know about like those in trains.

My grandpa showed me through his actions, there are two types of grief.

Type one- It eats you up raw from the inside,

The gall bladder starts releasing all the dark colours of bile, mostly black.

Eyes, which once looked like a sunflower turn into something vile, dangerous, dangerously empty. If they popped out of their sockets the next moment, wouldn't make a difference.

The trees which used to sing to you once, now don't even take a look at you, you feel breathless due to the lack of oxygen.

If you keep looking at the lines of your palm, they start shifting away from each other, coming to a point with no visible lines.

The ice now melts the second it touches your searing fingers.

Even if you interlace your fingers with a warmer hand, you start doubting every second of it, start playing 'among us' in your heads.

Type two- You pick up some drops of water and put it in your eyes or maybe glycerin.

What if the world knows, proving yourself grieving is important.

You see a pair of eyes everywhere, you can't rub your hands towards the sky in peace.

You scratch the key on a metal desk to listen to the satisfying screeching sound and then you get to sleep.

You turn the fans and lights off and wear two to three layers of clothes in a may summer.

You don't want to but you do, grieve I mean.

[lemonadesandlavender]

The most unsettling book you've ever read.

Swipe to read.

Me.

There’s a bookshelf full of books, some grey, some black, some dusty, some brand new, some shiny, some dull with time, some scented, some foul in your study and you roam your fingers through all the books in search for a perfect one time read like one does.

Your fingers land on the one book you should’ve never even bought. You pick the book up,

Eels are crawling all over it,

The book is covered with cobwebs,

Some pages have been eaten by bookbugs,

Each chapter is gut wrenching,

Your eyes get blinded by the beauty of it all,

The Achilles heel in the previous chapter pulls out your insides and the space is occupied by a green bile,

You need to continue the next chapter to get rid of that bile,

Your eyes are starting to burst into little firecrackers,

It is a murder mystery, fantasy, fiction, romance, goth, self help, autobiography all at once,

You feel like you’ll throw up after every other line,

The cobwebs are starting to shift onto your brain through your ears,

Your hands are getting slippery and clammy but you hold on tight,

You’ve not finished the book yet and you throw it in the nearby stash of books you will never even touch again,

That book is the most unsettling book you will come across

 

That book seems to resemble me from some angle,

That book is me.

[lemonadesandlavender]

Would you kiss me under the rain?

Swipe to read.

Question to ask to your soulmate.

If you had a chance,

Would you taste my blood on your tongue everytime I make myself bleed scratching a mosquito bite too much?

Would you look at me like you looked at the northern lights that time we went on that trip?

Would you be willing to entwined your fingers into my hair even If that means your hands get oily and clammy afterwards?

Would you turn the bed post corners all rounded just because I hit them too often because of my clumsiness?

Would you come with me to the other side of the world just to climb a thousand stairs in total to reach to the beach of my dreams?

Would you put some extra sugar in the coffee I drink every morning, cause you know I don’t like my coffee bitter?

Would you take my feet in your hands and pull out the thorn out of it in the middle of a crowded street?

Would you dig your hands inside my chest towards my heart just to find a lot of blood with your name written on each drop?

Would you kiss me under the rain and drag me into the sweetest oblivion?

[lemonadesandlavender]

What do they sell at the world's costliest markets?

Swipe to read.

Too much hurt.

1.       Some tears packed up in a bottle, cause people with heavy pockets don’t cry, their eyes are parched, either the sun is too bright or the earth isn’t in their favor.

2.       Crochet bralettes, they need each woven thread to be holding onto them, they don’t have pinky fingers and hearts to hold onto.

3.       Strawberry cheesecakes, melting away with increasing temperature of the body and taking what little control they have over themselves away.

4.       Some white powdery substance packed in little transparent packets sold in the hidden corners of the streets, they can’t look at the world straight no more.

5.       Huge diamond chandeliers, everytime they sit right underneath, their face illuminates like the sun itself and the present is too naive to think about.

6.       Satin pillows to sleep on, they don’t want their hair withering away like their blood already has with each streak of fire raging around them.

7.       A little more money, their pockets aren’t heavy enough, they want to keep filling them until they are submerged into the ground with so much weight their head explodes.

8.       Grey contact lenses, the world is a little too colourful for their taste.

9.       Ice filled cocktails, mimosa and margarita, sleep pills mixed in them.

10.   Little pieces of heart, missing pieces of their heart, which they have find everywhere until they land on the perfect one.

[lemonadesandlavender]

What do they sell in the world's cheapest shopping markets?

Swipe to read.

Not a little bit of heart.

1.       Ice lollies at a lorry not too far away from your childhood memories now that tall buildings surround you and your conscience.

2.       Oxidized jhumkas I am sure will fall out after a night or two just like your hand dripped from mine.

3.       The pedhas my mother made me cause she’s no longer here and I would rather eat the taste of her death than die myself.

4.       A little grief locked in a toy refrigerator along with the pea sized apples and bananas.

5.       Wigs made out of pig hair just so you can remember how it feels like to live in a marshland full of lotuses and still be mime.

6.       A bottle of water which tastes a little salty with all the salty tears of content mixed in it.

7.       Uncanny books which you’ll never find anywhere for writers weren’t of value even of being in the world’s cheapest markets so their books had to.

8.       A perfectly round but extremely fragile mirror so that your hands don’t get wounded but as soon as you tip it, your palm’s of no use.

9.       A diary to write mainly your expenses in, but turns out to be a list of every trauma you’ve ever suffered from.

10.   A key to the world’s costliest shopping market just so you know what they sell there and If you can afford it.