Bhavyy_writes

Published Author | Bribooks | Wattpad Writer | Poet | Content Writer | Copy Writer | (Novels, Articles, Essays, Poems, Children's Book, Short Stories)

[thepoeticsoul]

[thepoeticsoul]

In last few days, I realised it's always about which side you choose to see. I was sad, scared, and almost lost hope of things cause I kept listening to people who said- "Why do you write? Now you'll write article about this thing as well? Don't write this it'll hurt people's ego and emotions, it is too saltire. Why do you write so much? It feels meaningless to write so much and nobody will read you" I was scared I had no readers so to build a community to myself I created- Mokthra and posted my fear of not having readers. Then I saw a text, "even if am not your amateur reader but some of your work has resonate with me, and am really glad to be your reader". And it wake the hope within me, May be I don't have consistent readers but I do have some people who read and that's worth more than anything that these few people value my worth. So, thank you everyone who ever read even a single post, story or work of mine.

[thepoeticsoul]

Often I wonder, why do I write? When there's barely someone who'll read it? It's been five years since I'm writing and I barely have five good readers?

Often I wonder why do I share these tragic stories of evil happening, why do I want to speak against social issues when they deeply disturb me to my core?

So I try to quit but there's hope within me which never die, May be out of 10 things I wrote, one will be read and understood. May be I'm raising awareness among the people who follow me.

And I realise nobody really cares, But I know someone who really cares, my art, my passion, my fire, the creative explosion that I feel each night before going to be bed. So if you're also an artist like me with nothing beyond our fire to create, don't loose hope till the light in us and fire in us is alive. And someday you'll find the community for you which really cares.

[thepoeticsoul]

If world will never be at peace completely— Why to make these amendments? If women are never going to completely get same rights and opportunities and world would keep failing them- Why feminism? If there's nothing like completely good or bad- Why to justify living? If everything happening in world is natural from killings to Rape- Why speak against it?

The answer is- To make the world a better place. If we do not fight or resist it, it'll keep happening and get worse till everything doesn'tfall apart. Things would never get perfect in world so we've to raise our voices and fight, not for the perfect world, But a better, and balanced world!

[thepoeticsoul]

They say hard work saves you, money, fame, aome men or women will save you with the fairytale and happy endings taught us in childhood but I'd say nothing saves you. You've to keep fighting your Battles till your last breath. I was told that I had a hard childhood, I'd get some good man, still they recommend me to get married for the sake of settlement and stability. But I know marriage isn't salvation, it is another set of expectations, roles and responsibilities which will lead me to further emotional, mental and physical exhaustion. I read in childhood stories about the students who worked hard, got a job, build a life and things got easy in life. But I barely found any ease even though I've those things, that power, growth and independence that I never had. But it all demands more, more hard work, more physical and emotional labour. With time even if I rose to fame or not, get married or not, the suffering won't end, it won't ease. You've to fight, keep fighting, for the sake of survival, emotional, mentally, physically, to keep up with modern rush. There's no happy ending but death is our ultimatum. Living is now, growing is now, Making is now, choice is now. There's nothing beyond present. Suffering is the essence of human living, nothing can save you. So do not hope to be saved, build the courage to fight and learn to live small joys.

[thepoeticsoul]

Feminism needs perseverance.

Because patriarchy doesn't vanish — it reinvents.

Religious orthodoxy and patriarchal values continue to threaten women’s very existence.

Freedom for women is not permanent.

Look at Afghanistan. Iran. Other Middle Eastern nations.

History shows us: progress is reversible.

Even in the safest countries — like Norway —

1 in 4 women experience rape.

So tell me again, how is this world safe?

How can anyone say we don’t need feminism?

In many places, women still can't drive.

They can't lead their own lives.

Girls are married at 14.

Marital rape isn’t even acknowledged.

Child abuse is cloaked in tradition.

Where exactly is society heading?

They say: preserve what you've gained.

Yes — because just as women have come far,

the world still has the power to drag us back.

[thepoeticsoul]

This quote was everything I wanted to talk about since long that loving myself is a home shelter to me, I was searching since ages but I never quite knew how to be loved, or open up myself to someone because of the way the way world is, and the way I've been grown up believing that love is conditional which you can only recieve through your achievements, constant limelight or highs, seeking validation in appreciatiation and applaud from others. But with time I found it exhausting, These surface level human relationship based on the selfish purpose beyond connection and meaning feels foolish and mindless. And when the world works differently everybody advice you to be just like everyone follow what others follow, and it becomes hard to just choose your own path.

And than when you look at yourself from the perspective of world you don't see you but the mirrors of their own projections, Some call you childish, Some calls you ambitious, Some recognize your strength and glory, Others projects their insecurities on you and some helps you to meet better version of yourself.

But it's only you who can teach yourself what to be and what you truly are, regardless of how world perceive you.

The urge to be understood, to be taken for what you're just not your strength but your vulnerabilities as well, and not to just look down on you because you've been low in your hard days but to be able to see darkness and truth in you and that's not how world want to see you. But rather with their own mirrors, yardstick and projections.

But I found it quite an achievement to just to be myself, to stand on my beliefs, to be the change I want to see in the world, by taking real action because I believe words can change the world.

Even though sometimes all you want to be understood, held rightly, But only this unfair treatment and cruelsome view of world which just want be watched but not felt, it's hard to explain depth to it. But regardless, we can create our own safety net and home, ways to love ourselves just like we love others, to be able to give and hold others just the way we want and to keep hope someday, The best of things will happen to us because we're deserving of it.

#love

[thepoeticsoul]

These stars are mirroring my reflections,

This moon is dancing above my surfaces,

As if universe is making conspiracies to patch my grievances,

On the hopes I've given up long ago,

With my longings of last November and December,

With fears, if I could make it.

My illustrated illusion painted by life,

I paddle around roads, gardens, parks, towers,

Like some mad woman toddling around,

What I'm left with?

My grievances doesn't even seem real anymore!

Do I need friends? Do I miss them?

I asked! With nostalgic surreal haze,

High school tapestries, 13th and first birthday hosted,

On 22nd, and the day of 25th when I visited rose mary,

Kings, queens, English beams,

Magical memories, corner of comfort and peace.

Places and stories making references,

Under the twilight sky,

I read the stories of darkest edge,

Drowning deeper, if only life could provide branches hedge,

My strength loosened gripped from reality,

Keys lost in the voices inside my head— calling me crazy'.

Send me somewhere I belong,

Tell me when I'm wrong,

I closed my eyes— hoping to see the reflection of my soul's core flight,

Watched a friend's face and gripped edges of rope in race,

Calling an invitation for this shoulder— she could always rely on,

And my fears were so true and real— on the making of stem corns.

There were voices inside head,

Which had known ways to reality,

So I watched myself fight, struggle,

Against the odds, I made crocodiles as my Amity,

Fighting against the tides, I won't,

Drafting all the new rules, defeating the purposes in line,

Reddish slate of silk like a fresh view in my mind,

But they wholly seemed my kind.

Infant's cries, mortal fries,

Each place full of repression,

The crystal clear castles of snowflake,

Rivers, oceans, caves, Oasis,

But what's worth?

Sufferer is still a sufferer,

Viewers are still viewers.

Those hands which seemed like hope to hold on,

Had drinks to cheer on,

Watched the flashes, the shimmering cages,

Bigger the places, smaller the people,

The greater was shine, greatly hurt were my invisible my creepers and wine.

I found myself lost at sea,

Finding against odds,

And finding myself up on those hills,

Hearing children's stories and their proud claims,

Asking questions of life,

Even at the verge of happiness and victory,

I found myself hopeless and vain,

Still surrounded by wrongly and sin.

[thepoeticsoul]

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

[thepoeticsoul]

A Life Reimagined | Short Film

Most awaited moment has arrived. Our short film has been released on YouTube. Must watch🙌

[thepoeticsoul]

Staring out of the window,

I couldn't come out of the shadow,

Shadow of you in my mind,

Making me almost blind,

Cause all I ever wanted was to hold you,

And all I ever did was pushing you away,

Still in the morning it's the first text from you I received,

Still during the night your text is the last one,

And I wish to respond more and text more than all those ones,

Which I sent you,

And I don't know what to do,

May be you're the mistake I'll make,

I don't want to make this mistake,

And I want to make this mistake at the same time,

Do you think of same as well?

Cause I think of you all the time!

And I want to hold you all the time!

Is this craving of youth?

Or is it a poison in my body, soul and mind,

Exploded with your words in time,

Sometimes I want to ask you,

Can I go?

And I know you'd find someone else,

I would stay here being chased by enormous wolves!

[thepoeticsoul]

I guess I was made to love you.

Those four years in prison were a straight link to heaven.

Whether it was you, who was so beautiful, that the world used to get blurred,

Whenever I saw you there.

I guess I was made to love you.

Because that was the first and the last time

When the sight of someone else was infatuating to me.

I drank the drink of immortal serial haze in a mortal world.

I guess I was in love.

Each time you disappeared from my eyes,

All I had were tears in my starry eyes.

It was the first and last time I found hope in agony,

When I loved to cry in someone's agony.

I guess I was made to love you.

That was the only time when waiting felt like an immortal drink of wine.

We were that part of cosmic love.

I'm still not sure whether to call you mine,

But I've heard your friends say that whatever was between them was true.

I guess I was made to love you.

To be sure, this poem is not about you.

This poem is about the existence of my feelings for you.

For they were the first and last I had for someone else,

Where I treated man like a god,

Where the love was holy as the thought of being someone's dream.

When I look back, all I think of is

Whether again the world would get blurred at the sight of someone's arrival,

Whether whispers in the air will disappear when I hear someone's sound.

I hope you are happy.

Sometimes it makes me wonder

Whether you will find someone who will love you like me,

Or let it go like all the times.

But now it's making me believe

That love without insecurities, so heavenly, comes once in life.

And I loved once from the depth of my heart, selflessly.

[thepoeticsoul]

Each night before going to bed,

Ghost shook the teeth,

Which were trembling out of rage,

And wise man said, "It's our mind that ghosts us often, more than people' ever did".

Each night before falling asleep,

The mind blocked all its senses,

Shaking whole body,

Suffocative reminders of past took away the breathe,

With a reminder of wise man, "It's our mind that ghosts us often, more than people' ever did".

In each sleep every dream ghosted,

With reality which a lot costed,

And every action bit by bit became regret,

And each thought suffocation,

Finding ways to breathe, wise man's words repeated,

"It's our mind that ghosts us often, more than people' ever did".

Days were like Kafka's notice of life,

The endless working hours,

With my drowning selves and each time,

Something crossed over mind,

The endings seemed Sylvia's kind,

Though I'm none of them,

And wise man repeated himself, "It's our mind that ghosts us often, more than people' ever did".

[thepoeticsoul]

अक्सर मैं इस खामोशी के गहरे समंदर को पार करके अपने मन की सुनना चाहती हूँ,

पर ना जाने क्यूं हकीकत दिखाती है जो मानो एक मन की सुनी नहीं,

कि किसी गहरे दलदल में डूबाओ का सिलसिला शुरू हो गया,

ना जाने कल मेरा था, आज मेरा है, या कल मेरा होगा,

अक्सर ये उधेड़बुन के सवाल सताते होते हैं और केवल एक सबक के साथ छोड़ जाते हैं,

"जीवन आज में ही है"!

[thepoeticsoul]

Often our happiness is condemned on the door of our thoughts patterns,

Often our worse phases remain in the figments of our imagination,

And each day they keep getting worsen with more thoughts,

Cause they say, "We suffer more in our imagination than reality",

And with each cause our reality deals with the perpetual shaping of our imagination and thoughts,

May be these tunnels of thoughts are never ending,

May be these momentarily pangs will keep going on,

Yet to allow yourself to be free for a while,

To allow yourself to come out of that patterns of thoughts for a while,

Might make a lot of difference,

To be Happy just for a second's renaissance,

To have a momentarily desire to live freely like any other in your surroundings,

Might take you to heavenly boundaries,

Even if it's just momentarily,

Yet it is curated beautiful,

For the life time remembrance of what it is to be alive and to live.

[thepoeticsoul]

वक़्त आने पर ये यादें महसूस करने का ज़रिया बन जाएँगी,

क्या हुआ अगर आज ये मन महसूस करना भूल गया,

तो क्या अगर आज प्रकृति सुकून का जरिया नहीं,

बस एक ख़ालीपन की निशानी है,

पर मेरे अक्षर इस ख़ालीपन को भर देंगे,

मेरी यादें मुझे एहसास दिलाती रहेंगी,

प्रकृति व प्रेम को मेहसूस करना एक वक्त पर मैं भी जानती थी!

[thepoeticsoul]

Daydreaming is living for those,

Whole lived most of their lives inside the head,

Esctasy of fantasies are escape to those,

Who remain troublesome by the life they had,

Imagination is for those,

Who let themselves slide into that unfathomable madness,

When reality was capable of giving them nothing,

And mind could give them everything,

These daydreams, fantasies, and imaginations become the way of living,

When one loose touch with reality,

When they lost themselves into that process of self,

Where there self becomes an endless of ocean of mystery,

Cause at the end overthinking is for those,

Who wants to torment themselves for the sim they never committed,

Or the one who thinks their life hadn't been in their control.

Often these terms contradict each other,

Yet they represent each of us humans.