Fear

I spotted the teenage girl, walking
alone in the dark lamp-lit street.
She did not see me coming first,
walking on with her weighty bag.
As I approached, she sensed me in her heart
But when she turned around to look – I was invisible.
She tried walking faster, but I easily caught up,
Gripping her in a tight embrace as she tried to run,
leaving her breathless and panting with a beating heart.

That night was a stormy night
But I found the baby boy lying awake
in its crib, against the clap of lightnings
and the endless roar of rain against glass.
I slipped in through the window as the child looked out
and in the darkness I saw the frown.
As another thunder unfurled in the distance,
The boy began to cry for his mother
who lay in a dreamless sleep in the room next door.

The next day I visited the hospital again
to see the frail old man, lying helpless on the bed.
Crippled, no longer having the control of life he had in the past.
I taunted him scathingly to make his eyes turn
and catch the reflection in the mirror next to his bed;
“Look old man, you don’t have long to live.
Soon you die, leaving people behind
and go wherever people go after death
What’s the point when your disease will take you away?”

In the afternoon I met a business man,
gazing out of the window of the crowded train.
He was a hardworking man but I could but suggest
that one day he’ll get fired and his loved one will depart,
that he’ll break down and turn to gambling,
spiraling further and further into an uncontrollable decline,
Or else, lose all in a single fire
Or the crush of a vehicle and leave nothing behind.

Then there’s the girl sitting on her bed,
deciding whether to go out tonight
So I gave her advice and told her the things she already knew;
The people outside, unsympathetic, cruel, busy
won’t notice her, so unappealing that she is.
But feel free to go make a fool of yourself, drinking alone
in front of your crush, and watch the others have their fun
while you pray for them to invite you to join.

One day. I met a person;
male or female it matters not.
I was welcomed but then shaken off
I was powerless, insubstantial, against
the strong resolve of acceptance and courage.
I, became nothing, Nothing. Nothing.

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What I learnt about physical and emotional pain

The owl looked like this fellow from where I was as it flew silently away

I had an amazing time on a camping trip during the past few days; I even got to see an owl (I think it was a barn owl) which got me really excited because I had never seen nor ever expected to see an owl in the wild.  There were some pretty countryside buildings and fascinating plants and though it was not the best one I had been to, I had fun. Continue reading

What jealousy can offer, poem

I was watching a TED talk by Parul Sehgal titled “An ode to envy” which analyses jealousy in the context of literature. Although I do not agree with entirely everything that she says, I agree that there are many faces to this emotion that people and animals feel from a young age. It is a basic emotion that stems from our survival instincts to be loved by our mothers and to be the center of attention so that we have better chances of surviving. But of course, jealousy can be destructive – a cause for those horrifying stories on the news, and it can destroy relationships. Many religious teachings discourage this emotion because it can be a sign of a materialistic approach to life. But jealousy itself? It is a complicated thing.

It inspired me to write this poem that explores some of the qualities of jealousy;

Continue reading

“At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet”

“At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet” – Plato

I don’t know how other people feel about this, but for me this cannot be more right. English is my second language and I had always struggled a little with writing. It surprises me now to find so many pieces of creative writing in my documents from the past year or so.

The first of these is a poem I wrote to address the frustration I felt towards love. When I wrote this poem, I was resentful towards love for making me suffer the indescribable pain of loving someone who did not love me back. What compelled me to put down my emotions in words, I do not know; perhaps love is an emotion that particularly demands to be explored and analysed, unlike other emotions such as anger or bliss. However, this poem led to other poems and stories and I now enjoy writing in a way that I would not have thought possible several years ago.  Here it is;

Continue reading

Beginning a blog

Hello and good day to anyone reading this.

I’d been thinking for some time now about starting a blog and I did just now because…    I had time, I guess.

Also, I was going through the documents on my computer and found many things that I had written – creative writing, personal responses to a bit of news, drawings etc. They’re just sitting there uselessly, so I thought maybe I might share some of them with anyone who’s interested.

I’m a bit weird. In the sense that I have many hobbies that are not the ones you might expect from someone my age (I’m in my mid teens). I write essays for fun – how weird is that, when many people I know detest essays and would much rather go, say, shopping or to the cinema? But is that really weird? What even is the meaning of ‘weird’?  There must be people like me out there somewhere, who understands me and the things I do and the emotions I feel.

My interests know no boundaries, so I will be posting all sorts of things on this blog (after all it is a diary). I’m no expert on blogs so I will be fumbling my way through for the first part, learning ways to improve it as I go along (so bear with me). If you don’t like that, feel free to move on and look at the countless other blogs out there. If you like some of the stuff I post, well thank you. Thank you very much.