Into The Deep

 Into The Deep

I despise a starless sky,

Although, I envy a starry night;

I see the faults on the Moon,

I feel the breeze passing by.

Far away, a colossal creek,

Graced by Achilles;

I take a gentle plunge,

Immortality, is what I seek.

As I pull myself away,

A striking arrow wounds me;

Everyone is perishable,

Either tomorrow or today.

Society or Women?

 

SORRY, NOT SORRY

part 1

Society or Women?

I often get asked why I am vulnerable to the fact that I am an Indian. I am particularly not. India is a spectacular country, having a rich past. But is the future similarly rich? Is India a haven for the new and open-minded generation?

I’m proud to be an Indian, but am I proud of India?

I recently came across a post about how Indian women have been degraded over the ages. How they are not well-equipped with their emotions and only allowed to like Pink. Labelling them to house-hold chores because it’s impossible for a woman to earn more than her husband. Isn’t it? The family will be looked down upon if the man is the house-husband and the woman wears the pants in the family.

Why do Indian girls have to wear a skirt to school and not trousers? Is it a rule? Or is it out of pure sexism? An Indian girl is taught to dress ‘properly’ as the society is not a ‘good place’. What makes the society an undesirable place to live? Is it the people? Or is it the mindset?

No matter how financially-stable she is, she will always need a man to protect her. A man to stand up for her and look after her. That is Indian society. Am I still expected to be proud of it?

Although, is society our enemy? The truth is that women themselves are the real antagonists. Struggling to fight their inner demons. Stop pitying yourself and start accepting who you are. Stop criticizing yourself, start being an example for others to learn from.

Society will never let you live with your head held up high, the moment you start listening to it, you get trampled and never be able to dust it off. Shun it out and do what you feel is right, even if it seems wrong.

Stop changing yourself to play the princess in another man’s story, be the queen you are in yours.

#sorrynotsorry

 

The Boxes

 His family had a huge wooden cottage in the middle of the WhiteOak Forest. It was a well-built winter cabin with chestnut ceilings and steep staircases. The family had settled amidst the city and barely visited the cabin. Ignoring it out of simple nonchalance; they still claimed it to be their family’s most ‘well-kept secret’, for it had a dark attic with mysterious cardboard boxes.

The entire cottage, made out of chestnut wood was disturbed by one metal door guarding the attic. Guarding the boxes. The only window was bolted shut and often covered with heavy shades. The family had hired help to polish the cottage once in a while. The help had access to every corner of the house except the attic. It was off-limits. The attic remained grimey and grim while the other rooms were spick-and-span. 

It was once rumored that the cottage was built over a graveyard and consisted of a catacomb which was later, renovated into a ‘basement’.

The hired help would reside in the cabin the entire day but had to leave as soon as the clock struck 6. The attic was supported by a faint light bulb, lit daily at 6:30pm and turned off next dawn by someone. Nobody knew who that ‘someone’ was. 

The local people tried to solve the mystery, but saw no one entering or leaving the cabin after 6. But one night, they saw a yellow light reflecting from the half-draped window. An aged man was spotted, lifting the boxes on a mahogany table and carefully bringing out items and judging them under the weak bulb. 

The man understood how his identity was sacrificed. A wooden case was nailed to the window the next day. 

A young chap; took it upon himself to find out the hidden ‘artifacts’ in the boxes. He impersonated a member of the hired help and was admitted in. He remained in the cabin, lurking in the shadows, only to wait and see the aged man opening the boxes. 

It was 6:45pm and a man arrived, not through the front door, but via a passage in the basement. The young boy heard him treading heavily on the cemented stairs that led up to the attic. A metallic handle rattled. The boy had his way in, but did not follow the man inside the attic, being too afraid to get caught. Instead of gaping at the man, the boy stared at the inside of the attic. It was a mess. Test tubes, flasks, chemicals and books were scattered across the room. He waited until the boxes were opened. The man, who seemed to be a professor of science, walked slowly across the room, carrying his pocket knife to scrape open some taped boxes. 

What the boy saw, gave him the shivers. Various human organs were packed in ice coupled with several DNA samples. 

After a decade, the case was disclosed that the cabin was owned by the professor, he had no family. It was all rumors. His family had died long before the cottage was built. He had preserved their organs, only for a colossal idea of his own.

That day, the headlines of esteemed newspapers read-‘Clones Made in the Attic.’ 

 

Sometimes,

 

Sometimes, I like to imagine,

 A dainty green valley with a clear stream and I'm the only one living there. 

Sometimes, I don't want my phone, 

I want a pleasant view of the hills in front of me, reading a book. 

Sometimes, I imagine,

Floating in a lake all by myself, simply looking at the sky.

Sometimes, I feel like

Shunning this world out. 

Do I get my 'sometimes'?

HAPPINESS IS A SKILL

 

HAPPINESS IS A SKILL

Every day keeps repeating itself.                                                                                                          Everyday is the same day, for you are running in a circle.                                                      Every night, all you hope for is a better morning. Every day is full of uncertainties. Nothing is planned, anything might fall upon you. Just like a frail hatchling, it seems like you are learning something new every day. The moment you get adjusted to that, a new challenge awaits you.

It gets depressing how everything seems like something already done before. A series of déjà-vus’ float in front of you. It feels like you are trapped inside an hourglass, every second you are buried under more and more sand. And it is soon before you catch your last breath. Truth is, nobody knows when life will take a turn, nobody knows if it will.

Hence,

Enjoy every day for you never know when you laugh for the last time. Do whatever pleases you even if it does not satisfy society. Life is too short to be thinking about others think, and the current situation makes it even shorter.                                                          

Choose something that makes you happy, do it, just go for it. The world is your oyster; the sky is your limit. Nothing is stopping you except your pessimistic inner thoughts. Shun them out. The most difficult job that exists, is ‘keeping oneself happy’. It is the highest paid job there is.

Once you master it, there is nothing stopping you.

Make Way For The Night

 Make Way For The Night

As the sun sets behind the hills,

The spasms of red and orange make way for the blue and black.

The creatures of dawn go into hiding;

Making way for the night’s pack.

 

Leaving the horizon, taking all the warmth away,

Letting the Moon to glimmer and glow;

And letting the stars to dazzle and dance,

The breeze from the East serenely blows.

 

Scattering its faint light on the plains so green,

Shimmering over the dainty sea now and then,

Guiding those, who need her light.

And before they know it, its morning again.

Google is the Death of Libraries

 Have we ever thought deeply about the impact Google has caused in our lives? 

It might be beneficial in numerous ways, but it surely acts as a threat to libraries. People have lost the urge to walk into a library and issue a book. Either they have read chapters of it online or have googled its summary for a book report. Everything is just an 'Ok Google' away, and that's what attracts people. Today's generation is all about saving time , they don't care about the knowledge they gain from a book, as long as their work is done in about fifteen minutes. Everything is available on google, be that a general wonderment or some sample papers for the Boards. Most importantly, Google has turned people to be indolent. Google is seriously the death of libraries. 

Would libraries even exist in the next decade?

I Am The Way I Am

 Racism, the most common topic nowadays. They say "Beauty comes from inside." Although, only a few believe in it

 "Don't wear that dress, it makes you look fat!" 

"You should wear some makeup, atleast try to hide your scars." 

"Oh no! That colour? That will make you look even darker." 

So what if she has tattoos all over her body, so what is she has green streaks in her hair, so what if she wears a crop top yet she has stretch marks.

She is so alluring, 

I wish I had her hair. 

She is so good-looking, 

I wish I was just as fair. 

She has the perfect smile, 

She is as fine as a wine. 

She has the perfect weight, 

I wish I didnt have to lie about mine. 

But, 

I am smart, 

I always have my friends's back. 

I have a good heart,

But they still call me black. 

But, 

I don't care what they say,

I don't care how much I weigh.

I am better than the rest,

I KNOW I AM THE BEST.

She is beautiful the way she is. Don't try to CHANGE her. CHANGE your thoughts. 

Sunny Side Up!

 We all are familiar with that lazy feel we get on a Saturday morning.

You hate to get out of your bed but at some point you know you have to. For me, that point is usually around 11am, when my father barges into the room and snatches the blanket away for me. I usually haggle around for "15 more minutes" but these days, it seems like a waste of energy.

I prepare my lousy soul to put on the work face and speak in an incohorent manner for a few minutes. However, this Saturday, I was quite energetic.

Father had prepared a special Saturday brunch after almost two years! I absolutely love to eat that.

It was a truly colourful plate consisting of the king of meat, bacon. He added two types of eggs. The toasts were exactly perfect and the poach was round and bright. That red meat was the star of the plate. The chopped and glossy bacon enhanced the whole meal. The brown toast had scrambled eggs on it which was equally scrumptious. In a sentence, the whole plate was nothing but perfection.

This was my Saturday morning and I know that the Sunday will pass away quickly as well. Looking forward to the next weekend but before that, I have to survive through another dreadful week. 

The Strangest Person I've Ever Met

 I was sitting on an old bench with an Agatha Christie in my hand while the wind blew my hair across my face. Being a disturbed soul, I got up to find my missing hair-tie, keeping my book on the wooden oak bench. When I turned towards the bench, I found a woman, in her mid-thirties, sitting there with my book and the same hair-tie that I had lost. She was a raven-haired woman with eerie hazel-green eyes. Moderately dressed, she did not speak a word and continued to ignore me.

I felt a bit intimidated at first but gathered up the courage to talk to her. Her attire was unusual and quirky. Naturally, a woman in her thirties, does not dress as a teenager. Her orange shirt attracted a few. Her long nails were crumbling the pages of my book. Her shoes amused me. It had little butterflies on them. Her nonchalant expression made me believe for sometime that she was differently-abled. Her legs were crossed and her arms were lying solemnly on her lap with my book. I lent out my hand, explaining that I was in the need of the hair-tie. She looked at me, scanned me from head to toe and handed me the tie. I was occupied with the ideas hatching in my mind that I forgot to notice how queer her hat was. It had a Quail bird on it surrounded with colorful berries on an ochre base.

"Hi, if you are done with the book, may I get it back?"

I blurted out.

She turned towards me, paid no attention to my desperate behavior and leaned back on the bench, seeming to enjoy the book. I had to leave soon as my mother had requested me to buy fruits on the way back. I decided to leave my book with her.

The next morning, I tried to find the woman, but she was not there. I found my book on the same wooden bench. Page 234 was folded and as I picked it up, a little note fell out. It was a 'Thank You' note with a little piece of candy.

An Artistic Detective

It was a casual night, with pleasant topics to chat about.
My father and I were discussing about current topics and suddenly a name came up, “Platipus Maximus” who is meant to be a detective.
One might be curious about the background of this name, but oddly, there is none.
It was an on the spot genius idea!  Being an amateur artist, I came up with a little competition. I challenged him to draw a cartoon that fits best with the name.

The next day, we both had our drawings prepared and ready to be judged.
Mother, being an extreme diplomat, ruled both as the same and wished to end the topic.
If I may describe Father’s art, it was unbelievably awful. Not being a pessimist, but drawing a few sticks and describing them as bodies, that’s where I draw the line.
My art was well-received by others and also achieved the deserved credit.

I would be flattered to post my Father’s creation but it would hurt my integrity deeply if one sees our drawings side by side.

THE VIEW FROM MY BEDROOM WINDOW

When I open my eyes in the morning, I see a picture of a beautiful dawn. The wind coming in sways my cobalt curtains and the dream catcher chimes. Holding my mug of coffee, I await the pleasure of seeing the mesmerizing sights from my window. While opening the window, the light creak of the wooden pane alerts my dog. I sit down on the comfortable sofa, and simply observe the passersby.

While I enjoy my bowl of cereal, I see women with bags of jute hurrying off to the market, little girls plucking daisies and kids chasing after the bubbles they blow. A group of introverts jogging, wearing earphones.  A bevy of elderly women, having their tête-a-tête under a canopy shaped dome. The fragrance of the resplendent flowers united with the aroma of mint plants rejuvenate my soul. Looking across the garden, the hustle-bustle of the road add a new aspect to the view. I can almost smell the delicacies being cooked by the vendors while the motor vehicles move at a quiet pace. The people greet each other and move forward. While the cars stop, men and women come towards the car and showcase their variety of wares. Some have garlands while the other have pretty cloth bags.

The sound of the environment is a mix of honking and the laughter of children in my building. The smoke coming out of the far away factory, spoils the look of the light blue sky and the whole picture. A Koel bird sits on the edge of my window pane and keeps cooing while my dog is fascinated to see a bird that close. A stray dog across the street has finally found a good place under a tree to rest.

As I observe almost every little thing, it is time for me to get on with the rest of my day. I leave the window ajar, sit on my study table and begin with the History lesson.

The next morning is still far away.

Forests and I

They say that forests are essential and support life on Earth. They are even great for tourism and other adventurous sports. However, I seem to oppose that fact.

Since an early age, I have an irrational fear of animals. The street dogs always haunted me when I was a preschooler. I really don't know why but I never liked animals. 
And lucky me, my family frequently planned trips to national parks. I do not know whether that was to help me overcome my fear or just simply annoy me.

My motto, when it comes to nature is " Let them live, let me live." Wilderness is not my cup of tea. 
The brown branches, rustling autumn leaves, sudden drizzles, roads that lead to places beyond imagination and then there is me with tension in my eyes, and a vein popping out of my head.

When I was eleven, I fondly remember my experience at one such park, Rajaji National Park.
 It was somewhere near Rishikesh, a beautiful hill station with mesmerizing temples and statues. The weather changed every now and then but the breeze was chilly and relaxing.

The park was fully secured and our ride was an open jeep. I spotted some leopard paw marks on a bark and kept looking up, assuring myself that no animal will jump on me. The only thing that could protect us was a gun. We were advised to wear light-coloured clothes and not to wear fragrance. The first half of the journey was very enjoyable and we saw a handful of animals. A herd of elephants came to a clear water hole to hydrate themselves. It was pretty humid that day, hence we didn't need any pullovers. The mother elephants sprinkled water on their little ones and others, simply licked their children. 

It is amazing that nature has it's own way of things. Nobody ever taught these animals how to take care of themeselves. Even though they have it all figured out. We encountered some peacocks,  a variety of birds, deers and lastly, two cheetahs.
That was a fine moment for me, although I didn't feel anything maybe because my heart stopped beating for a while. There were two of them, hidden by the bushes. Thinking that either of them could ambush me. The jeeps applied a sudden brake and asked us to remain quiet. I gladly obeyed that because I had my tongue in a knot. The duo was gawking at us and everyone had their cameras ready. We remained silent and stood in awe for a couple of minutes. It was dusk by then, and the sky looked brilliant with spasms of red and orange. 
We slowly departed and made it to the main gate by six. 
  
The experience was almost good, if the cheetah did not appear in the story. I would like to visit zoos where animals are kept in certain cages and cannot harm me. It sounds very odd and weird that I dislike animals, but that is true. 

I await for a day when animals will come to visit us in cages...

Rain here!

RAIN IN MUMBAI! 

Rain here is not a special word, unlike in Bengal. Mumbai has adapted itself from the torrential rain it receives every year. Although, people in many parts of Mumbai, still suffer immensely during this time of the year. Though, it’s a progressed city but rain here is a very decisive calamity. Surprisingly, kids enjoy themselves and so do adults. People intend to work casually in the middle of this season. 

Appreciating this, people here are also habituated in the scorching heat. Folks here are hardworking unlike in Kolkata. 

Rain here is unpredictable. The minute the sun shines brightly above you, you are supposed to expect rain in the next minute. Carrying umbrellas and raincoats here are no problem. The uncertainty gives people no benefit of doubt. 

Overlooking the rain, there’s no winter here! It’s just summer and monsoon. So the advantage of that is that you can swim in the month of December! But that comes later, most people worry about their lives in the month of July to September. It’s a monster worry here. 

Apart from this, monsoon brings a humongous amount of fresh water, which delivers potable water in the homes of most. The refreshing raindrops and light dark skies are a treat for sore eyes! The chilling breeze forces you to get up and arrange yourself a hot cup of chocolate and blanket! 

I myself, get wrapped up in a blanket and gape at the phone screen for latest updates of weather. 

Here’s a little something  that should provide you with a clear image of the famous RAIN here: 

Life In Mumbai

Well, it has been over a month now in Mumbai, and I seem to have managed well enough till now.
I have made a handful of friends here and doing well in my studies.
Mumbai seems to fascinate me. Its too weird that I have been living in Kolkata for thirteen years and now here I am. I am not saying that it is a bad thing, I appreciate being here. In fact, I was the most positive of all about moving here. People seemed to worry and panic a lot, I was calm and collected and thought about life here. And how I would manage in school.

 Will I make any friends, and will I miss my family and cousin? It wasn’t incredibly tough for me. On the other hand, Baba was the one to freak out!
He gave a lot of thought on this sudden change. And it would be better if I don’t speak about Ma.
She literally drove me crazy in March. I still remember her speaking in her sleep!

It has been a thrilling experience and I am perplexed that we all are still thriving against the monsoon.

Well, this is our home now and I have welcomed it with open arms. Ma is having a little difficulty, but she will settle down eventually, and if not, then GOD BLESS HER!!

The Fantastic Four

Friends are an important part in life.
To cherish all the joyous moments between my three close friends and me , I came up with a little poem for them.

This is for Disha, Rishab and Aryansh.

Here goes:

One thing, that's special about my friends,
Is that they all follow a unique trend.

I will always love you guys,
No matter, how you have told me lies!

Disha's the cutest,
Aryansh's the funniest,
Rishab's the coolest,
Well, not to boast, I am the smartest!

They play extreme pranks,
And always put me in ranks.

We are friends from the core,
Known as the FANTASTIC FOUR!

Saturday Breakfasts

Saturday mornings. Breakfasts are big! I probably eat the breakfast of three countries together! Relax, that's a hyperbole. Normally there is a ton of things on my plate. Some sweet, some salty, some large, some small - the plate looks like a buffet from a plush restaurant.

Sausages,scrambled eggs,bacon, toast,and...orange juice. There normally is everything. I take ages to complete the breakfast and normally skip lunch. Who can eat lunch after such a  monstrous meal!

Thanks Baba for making such wonderful breakfasts for me on Saturdays. 

This wonderful Saturday

It was a Saturday and I had a whole lot of plans!
I love Saturdays because I go out with my mom and dad and have fun.
This Saturday was so packed!
We went to a restaurant to have some Bengali food in the afternoon on account of my dads birthday celebration.
My friend will be there who I am meeting after a year .
My aunt will be there with her too.
In the evening...I got a wonderful birthday party. Not mine but my cousins and friends.
We are going to have loads of fun... I am gonna see all my cousins and have fun with them.
Well we are gonna play some games too but for me and my cousins, we chat a lot!

Oh! I don't want this Saturday to end!
No studies
No boring classes!....

Happy birthday Rhea!

Dedicated to my lovely sister..Rhea
Happy Birthday!

You are greater than the Nile,
Your face lights up with a smile.
You are the sweetest girl I have ever seen,
The cutest you've ever been.
You love books and books love you!
You have curiosity even for a dew!
I love you very much and you love me too...
So here's wishing a very HAPPY BIRTHDAY to you.


Have a wonderful day sister!!😀😀😀

             

Today I begin

Today I start my blog. 

I love writing poems and random things. I also like to sketch. Sometimes when I am in a good mood I write some book reviews also. 

I also like to watch some films on Netflix and I will review them from time to time. 

That's that. 

That's me Anusha and I am 13 and this is my blog : All kinds of everything