A Letter To Myself That Will Remind Me To Be A Good Daughter.

Dear Self,

You’ve been so brave this year. Yes, you can applaud yourself. It’s known to be uplifting and pleasing. But have you been loving your loved ones enough? Hmm. That is something to ponder over.

You talk to yourself a LOT. And when the phrase ‘a lot’ is being used, it refers to the fact that you constantly over-think, critique and analyze yourself. It could be in front of the mirror, or while staring at the ceiling of your bedroom or just looking out of the window.

But amid all this, how do you leave out the most important thing to think about?

So think: we always choose to take for granted what is already being given to us. Things such as food and emotions such as love. Like, you feel the swift rush of love in your heart when your Mother says something that is sweet and intrinsic to her maternal nature. But sometimes, you fail to reciprocate and then you end up becoming the worst daughter this Earth will ever host.

You forget what her favorite food dish is.

You forget her shopping list.

You forget what makes her tear up.

And, you forget that apart from being a person who caters to all your needs, she is also a brilliant woman who has desires of her own.

You forget that sometimes when you go shopping, she furtively expects you to come back and surprise her with something she has desperately wanted for a long time. It could be her favorite lipstick that just ran out or the fancy shampoo she has wanted for a long time but is somehow hesitant to buy by herself because she hates Materialism and loathes high maintenance even more.

You forget that your decision to help out in the kitchen should not be born out of obligation but out of compassion.

You forget that rambling on about your life and your miseries sidelines what she is feeling.

You fall. You fall like an ill-prepared solder on the battlefield. And so this letter should help and serve to you as a reminder to not view your mother as your mother ONLY.

View her as this goddess who experienced such visceral pain while giving birth to you that she almost blacked out.

View her as a woman whose mind is filled with drowsy dreams and candid curiosities.

View her as someone with a cerebral mind and a warm heart.

View your mother as a human being and not as a refuge to dump your emotional baggage in.

View her as your everything.

Yours truly and sincerely,

Conscience.

Renovatio. 

Probably the lengthiest poem I have ever written! I hope you like it. Please give me your honest opinions in the comments below! 

P.S The title of the poem is in Latin and translates to rebirth. 

She was made up of words,

They all said. She was meant

To be an author, they proclaimed.

But her mother, Mrs. Smith

Cooked dreams of an early

Marriage and a crawling toddler

For her. Thus, she ran.

 

She ran, leaving a world

Behind only to step into another.

She would paint her own life,

Embellish it with colloquialism,

Flowery words and further,

In her haste, she could only

Collect what her greedy hands

Touched. A toothbrush. A

 

Satchel and not as much a

Glance to the lady who was

Constituted of belligerence and

Hostility for her shaky career.

Betty was the bird emancipated

From a wooden cage. She would

Flap her wings around a strange

 

Place. She would grasp the

Feather and let it sink into

The welcoming ink and let the

Words spill out on an otherwise

Blank page. Oh! The jolts of

The train were like droplets of

Water flicked hurriedly after a

 

Nightmare. She was in a rocking

Carriage with people carrying

The burdens of their own stories after all.

She never batted her eyelashes

At another. Her concentration

Was pinpointed on the leather

Of the ledger she had managed

 

To gather. Her dexterous fingers

Groped the skin of the new diary

And her heart beat faster by

Imagining what would go in it

And which magazines her work would

Travel to. She was the witch and

This diary was her wand. She

Would cast enchanting spells

And thrive from it all.

 

For once, she heaved and a

Bizarre fear settled in the pit

Of her stomach. She knitted

Her brows deep in worry and

Anxiety for the thought of

Starting over. But the word

‘Valiance’ quivered in her mind like

Trees from an arrogant wind

Before a storm and she felt

Bolstered again. Because, she

 

Knew that no matter how harsh

The wind howls at the tress, they

Quiver but they never crumble and fall.

“Ma, I put lipstick on and I feel so pretty!”. 

Grip the brush with the tightness
that a  warrior exhibits while holding a sword.
Dip it in a powdery box much like a king
does after a war. Except his fingers
caress the crimson Tilak and gently
graze his forehead. You are no less than
a king or a queen, for that matter. Spread
the colored powder across your skin,
with the delicateness of your mother
who watches with fascination as her
fifteen-year-old daughter lives out
her dream to look more beautiful
than she already is in her dressing
room. Now, smudge all the sprouting
blemishes that might have bloomed on
your skin, it will cover not only spots but
also your imperfections. Apply
lipstick now. Brush the tip across
your dry lips with the artistry of
an artist who has ample experience to
recreate Mona Lisa in his basement.
You are ready to face the world.
You wear a mask on the outside and
conceal yourself from within.

A lengthier poem, this one.

I have so much on my plate right now and this is why I come bearing some of the contents that are on my plate.

I have devoted myself to the empowerment of teenage girls. This is why I am going around interviewing young girls around India (virtually, of course) to document their life-changing experiences and interesting discoveries.

Check out the Facebook page and hit like-  Teen JWB

For any writing assignments, comment below or just email me-avantikainghal216@yahoo.in

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Time Oxford brought out the poet in me.

Incredibly short verses of poetry written by me while doing a short summer course of Creative Writing at Oxford University. It sounds fancy, I know. You can also catch all the highlights of my expedition on Jaipur Women Blog. The blog name will be ‘Velvet Eyes’. 

  1. Of an arm
    Coyly placed on my
    Shoulder and a smile
    Plastering his face,
    He breezed away into
    The arms of another
    After treading on my already broken heart.

2. Teardrops fell
Slowly but surely as the parents distanced
Themselves from their only offspring and
Ventured off to a world of modernisation
And Ignorance alone together.

3. The sun is my continual nemesis
And it destroys me in more ways than one.
Silent questions are raised eternally and
Will not die down until I stop concealing
Myself from my own bright demons.

4. There are pictures sketched on the
Concrete that the law abiders despise. They
Condemn them because the depth of the paint will
Never rest comfortably in their eyes, like it does in mine.

5. Shaky hands
And a sweaty forehead, a heartbeat faster
Than a bullet train’s speed is all that takes me
To saunter over to the podium and spill
Meaningful words that reach every ear, move
Every heart and propel them forward in their life.

Have a great day and don’t forget to smile, Netizens!

Avantika.

When We Are One. 

The moon’s soft rays 
Kiss the moor ground 
With the delicacy of an 
Innocent maiden of 
Old times. The gentle 
Light caresses my skin 
With a mellow touch. 
I look up to the sky, 
Tainted with stars which 
I am inclined to touch. 
They are silver dots of 
Wonder and they 
Fascinate me. 
The trees around me 
Are silent and still, 
Embracing the moon 
And its pulchritude like 
I do and in that moment, 
The line between 
Human and Nature blur. 
The line is now indistinguishable,
it’s almost invisible. 
We are one. The trees and 
I. There’s no destruction. 
There’s only peace. And tranquility. 

Hi WordPress! How much i missed you.
Now that my exams are over, i can post without  worrying about not finishing my course (believe me, i came very close to that). How have you all been? How has 2016 been for you? I have big dreams for this blog. Give me suggestions and wise words for the improvement of this blog if you want. I am thinking of collaborating with a lot of bloggers this year. Tell me if you are interested. 

(I know, no one will show up. There’s no harm in trying) 

I hope you have a good day, folks. 🙂 

Avantika. 

New Year Resolutions. You’ll end up forgetting yours in no time! 

Strangely, I am not feeling the ‘New Year’ buzz even though I am encumbered by loud music, over enthusiastic cheers and refulgent grins. 

It might take some time to sink in that it will be 2016 in a matter of minutes. 

I won’t be in school anymore. 

A normally functioning human being who will miss seeing their friends on a daily basis will be sordid at this fact. I am not! I am hardly rueful. In fact, I am glad I won’t have to put up with the charade to like school because I just cannot. 

Of course, 2015 has been VERY eventful. 

All with my blog becoming a little more active, with 259 family members attached to it. You all are family! 

I got nominated for the Lovely blog award. Could anything be more awesome? 

People make resolutions for new year and brighter tomorrows all the time. However, I am not in the mood. I am not in a mood to list things I want to change in myself next year. Can I be myself without having to think about alterations in my thought processes and mannerisms? 

The answer is very much YES. 

Why change? When your new year resolution will be just like that belittled sweater you bought at a Black Friday Sale? 

The truth is, you will forget what your new year resolution was before the push messages for 2016 even meet their sad end. 

That’s right, hit ‘delete’ right away, folks. 

I am not saying that making resolutions is unhealthy or foolish. It’s just that, for once, let nature take its force and do what it wants with you. Let the chips fall where they may? 

Why try to walk on coal when you cannot? Why break promises you cannot even keep? 

Thus, let’s be the same people we were in 2015 and let’s be ourselves. Let’s, however, do something simple. Let’s embrace positive thoughts and a prosperous future with arms spread wide. Yes, wider. Wide emough? I think so. 

Happy New Year, Family. 

You do you. 

Never change for anyone or anything. 

It’s 12:00 already? 

*flurry of push messages* 

Ah. 

The Christmas buzz.

In the lonesome streets
At night and under the
Bright moon’s light, I
Wander with a heavy
Heart and a hindsight
Of the horrible events
Of tonight. My jacket
Is causally slung over
My shoulder and the
Engagement ring sits
Like a wounded dog
In it’s case, curled in a
Ball. My eyes water
At the sight of your
Angry and flushed face
And how you scraped
The chair along the
Floor angrily as you
Gaped. It was unexpected.

It was plaintive. Whatever it
Was, it was evident that
You were not ready.
And neither I am, to be
With a girl who only
Longs for Tiffany’s and
Not some local jeweller.
A cup of hot chocolate
Awaits my cosy residence.

The lambent
Lights of my Christmas
Tree will sing silently in

my presence and
Meanwhile, I will devise
Strategies to move on
From you and refresh
My existence.

Merry Christmas to everyone on WordPress. This year is coming to an end and that makes me want to tear up. It was fabulous. I hope this year brought you a lot of happiness too.

I wrote this poem for those who feel that they have a right to be sad on Christmas. You don’t! Whatever horrible situation has befallen you will mitigate and become better. Be grateful for whatever you have. Share smiles and radiance with your loved ones. Be spirited!

With all the love I can muster for you all, Avantika!

Delusions And Deafeats.

You are like the trapped
Bee who makes the irk 
Some buzzing sound 
When it is captured in a 
Glass jar. You keep taking
rounds until your insignificant
wings just can’t bear to
function and you settle at the 
Bottom with an abrupt 
And unpredictable 
Quietness. You have 
Given up, silly human. 
You fail to see that the 
rim of the metal jar gives 
Way to the tiniest of 
Spaces. It’s wide enough 
For you to get out. Yet, 
There you are, sitting 
And sighing, waiting for 
Miracles to happen and 
Ignoring all the opened 
Doors and the small 
Space on the rim of the jar. 

The Fiery Fight.

The cold pavement against
her cheek does nothing to calm
Her hot, boiling blood.

The rags that cover her
Sinuous body do nothing
To cover up skin and the
Humiliation she suffers.

The hands that only wrap
Around rancid items of
food do nothing to stop her
longing for lavish delicacies.

She lived the life of a
Beggar with equanimity
Until something snapped
Inside of her.

Now, her anger will be her strength.
Her frustration will be her driving force.
She will turn her future into a comfortable, liveable one.

She’ll fight. She son’t run.

Antithesis.

I remember when our 
Eyes met for the first 
Time. Do you know of 
The heat that transpired? 
We were just like the Sun 
and the Moon that cause  

an eclipse and an uproar.
Our stars were meant to collide.
Our galaxies were not meant to subside: 
We were just like ice and fire. 
Dangerous, with vigour. 

Or, cold and somber. 
We’ll always be polar 
Opposites and yet, 
We’ll be like magnets.