Spillwords - Blog Posts

I woke up to bad news today,

I slept with my head spinning, when the world and my cozy little cocoon, both shattered.

I saw the disclaimer on the Instagram story.

Yet, I choose to watch it.

I twisted and turned in my bed, my last alarm rang. I had to leave or I'd be late for work.

I drag myself to the shower, the drops of water started dripping, my shoulder getting drenched. Drop by drop. Like people falling off an airplane

I came out, wore my cutest shirt, a gift from a rather someone. My eyes went moist. I picked up my hairbrush, hoping to brush more than my hair.

I packed my lunch box, made a face when there was upma for breakfast, ate cold cornflakes watching something funny on Netflix.

I rush to office, take my laptop out. The charger that'll sustain the day. My red thermal coffee flask with the black coffee for the day, the blue book and a pen I borrowed from someone.

I sit down, let out a sigh, and switched on my laptop to an array of emails to reply to.

Why are people working beyond work hours I wondered, maybe I should too, I thought for a second.

The sticky notes on my laptop reminded me of my two other jobs, with broken earphones, the day drifted without music to shush my thoughts. Someone passes the hallway wearing the same perfume that a boy I knew wears. Shattered promises, lucid dreams fake smiles and bike rides all rushed to my head.

In a rather larger, emptier office I started communicating to innamimate things and cleared the notifications of burning forests, dying animals and women in veils.

I haven't been able to eat. I haven't been able to sleep. My head questioning everything everyone did.

While I've come back to my rather comfortable room, cold milk, gazal songs and some cigarettes I move time to another day for some better food and strong coffee.

My phone beeps, i slide the notification and lie down on an empty terrace with sounds of traffic, a dog barking on the corner of the street and a thousand thoughts.

Wounds

While I cry myself to sleep once again.

I look up and the clock says 3am.

It's been a while since I've had a proper sleep cycle.

While somedays I sleep by 5 or 6 in the morning,

The other days I don't sleep at all.

Sometimes it's the haunting loneliness that blares up as a wound

Other times it's the thought of people I've lost

Friendships and love forgone, most times it's the fear of missing someone again.

While I delete contacts and mute statuses on social media. I still go back to my gallery to look at pictures of us together.

It feels like bandaids on wounds I only revisit again.

Sometimes I stalk the ex who left me for someone else

Other times it's the once bestfriend I'm sure who doesn't remember I exist.

Telling myself I'm better off without toxic people in life

I hug my little panda doll from when I was 10 years old

And cry myself to sleep, thinking of all the wounds my people gave, all the people I've lost and those who left me behind.

I close my eyes, the cellphone chimes.

It's all a vicious cycle again

Image from: Razia @a-small-startup

The mirror

Tiny little toes, 10 little fingers and she learns to stand.

With that chubby cheek and the diaper, it was more like a duck racing around.

She starts running because, she might fall anytime now, and wants to cover as much as possible.

She turns around and finds this beautiful little kid staring back at her,

Looks up and finds her mother staring at her,

She rushes to hug her mother, but her nose hits the solid screen

The mirror.

She doesn’t realize then, that at one point in life she’ll hate looking into that

The mirror.

High school was supposed to be fun

Crushes and girl gangs were the things shown on those romcoms

She hates those movies now.

While she developed early, her breasts were her biggest enemies

The girls in her class started calling her names, and

She felt guys only liked her for that

Every day she looked into that opaque thing and hated every inch

The extra skin, being fat, and those stretch marks

She hated them all

The Mirror

Being a young lady

She covered every inch she hated with layers and layers of cloths

While her mother told her that she should lose some weight and not eat more

Her grandmother constantly reminded her she would never find someone

Then came the era of being woke

Where you were pretty DESPITE being fat

She looked away from mirrors

The pores on her face, the short hair, and the dry lips

Nothing seemed pretty DESPITE being fat and dark.

The mirror only mouthed what she told

She was never nice to herself

Today, she wakes up, wears the same white shirt that she wears for meetings

Looks up at that mirror and looks into those eyes

Those eyes had known that fair and lovely was not what she seeked

She did not have to feel pretty despite fat and dusky

She was pretty with those curves and dark skin

She wears the khol on her eyes, slides into the shorts

Tucks that strand of hair

And lets out a smile to herself

And to all those years of hatred

She saw those little toes and 10 fingers

And smiled

The mirror.

Image from Razia @a-small-startup

The cozy space

My granny used to tell me this story all the time. When I was a kid and used to get upset, I would go hide in the cupboard where she kept all the blankets and cry. That seemed the coziest space of all. I was known to be the cry baby, otherwise nicknamed the sensitive one.

Growing up, every time I had a fight with my older brother I cried at night sleeping between my parents, without them having even the slightest idea of what I was doing. My pillows were heavy each morning and not a single soul knew.

Teenage years, filled with loneliness made me associate emotions with things. While that small piece of the broken cup, and the earring my best friend gave and I lost one. The school uniform, the English textbooks which had stories that made me love reading, everything seemed to be a part of something big.

Having had to live with other people in college, the shower became that cozy space, where I cried while the water ran through my face, while I looked radiant; no one knew what was happening.

Moving cities I continued carrying the same pillow everywhere, it seemed to have known all sides of me and all stories of mine. While the pillow turned heavy, it also seemed to be the only thing to hold on to

These days, sunsets are the cozy space, evenings filled with some music and leading to nights I can look forward to. The time with myself along with some tea I make, mostly disastrous. I seemed to have found my cozy space. The corners at buildings and the empty roads seem to have grown to be cozy spaces.

Image by: Razia @a-small-startup

With mountains climbed

Stars gazed at.

It's been a beautiful week of all my life.

With friends made, and friendships bonded

I don't know how life could change.

People talked, laughed, had a merry go ride.

This has been where relationships redefined

New ones made

Judgements broken and new ones made.

Love to all the people and all the memories.

To the good and bad triping

I've always been alone. Especially at nights. The loneliness strikes hard on nights I cry, screeming into my pillow. In those pitch dark nights the one gleam of light that fills my room slowly and beautifully is the moon. Irrespective of how it is, where it is, the moon comes to me. Through my window the comfort I get is the warmth of a mother and the company of a friend. On moonless nights it's as if the moon hands me over to the stars, they shine so bright and I wait for the moon to come to me. I wait for the moon to come to me.

I never saw her like this before.

She has never been so vulnerable before

.

I never knew that an old chord like this

Would stir up so much.

.

I have never heard him like that

All so messed up yet so clear about what was going on.

.

They should both just go on

Move their separate paths.....

Actually they have.

.

It's just old chords like these.

Because

Some voices just brings in memories

And some people bring back a smile

And they are the ones like that.

.

And they would always be like that.

No matter what,

Some times, some things, and some memories never change

If this isn't what it is, then what is it that it is? Or what would it be that it is? Just tell me what is it... Or what it would end up in..?

😶

Doors closed from behind that never tend to open..

The doors behind whom is the person with the keys

Those doors....

How I wish you had told me before that these doors would never open...

Rather you promised me keys to eternal you

Of all the fake promises and lost love....

I wish I had known you even better. Known you even far.

I wouldn't be standing here today not knowing which way to go. Whom to trust.

I wouldn't be here having lost all faith in life

And turned cynical towards all.

I wish I had known you before.

Before all of this could have happened..

- Razia

@argumentsfromwithin hope I did justice to your poem. And ya if anyone wants to take it further. Please do..

Open ended…

(Please finish my poem!)

There are days…

That turn into weeks…

These months that have become years…

How long have I been waiting for an answer…

A solution to the fears that keep me awake at night…

there’s an odd bit of advice you see that was offered to me…

A tid bit of knowledge used to express an emotion…

This feeling we’ve all been looking for…

An answer behind closed doors…

-c.S.

By: ArgumentsFromWithin

(Please write your own ending and share! I can’t wait to read them!)

When you were my 12am friend now don't call me just for the courtesy. When you talked to me endlessly now don't talk just because I called. I've always come behind you all the while, now don't expect the same. If you want you talk otherwise just don't. You can't force forgiveness or love. I've done more than my part now it's up to you. Don't worry about me being ignored it isn't new to me.

The endless ignorance in life..........

That girl I know

The solicited aspects of life turns on

Accepted mores of life goes on

But still there persists one constant thing

That isn't ready to go with change...

Change itself.

There are aspects she claims about herself

There are aspects she says she's not

But like everybody says

At the end of the day all she wants are eyes pleased

And people happy.

I haven't known her well

Even after knowing her for the past 21 or so years

She seems to be a confident, clear and sorted person

And the next fraction I see this trash of a person

She messes up everything just by over thinking

Everytime I tell her to shut up at unnecessary conversations.

Still she spills the words and poof! Goes everything

There are people who know the playful side of hers

And yet there are others who know her as rude and disrespectful

She throws up tantrums and sits up angry

And then there are people who now her as the quite and composed one....

I know her of not just flesh and bone

But rather deep inside

Of all these sides and more

Of all the broken relationships

Of all the complaints from childhood

Of all the fears from life....

I know her like no one else

But sometimes even I have a set back understanding what exactly she wants

Because she holds back from everything she needs

Having so much going on in her head

But still putting them all behind

And regretting of that one moment she takes for herself

Spending that one penny on her

Going that one extra mile.

I feel sorry for her if nothing else

Because of the heart that she holds

And the world she tries to put together

In the end she lands up letting go of herself for others

Dear "whom so ever it may concern"

I just read a letter sent my you, a long well a long lasting letter. It said from someone who loved me unconditionally once upon a time. How did our love fade away, how did the love turn into unconditional hatred. ? How?

Well, some questions can't have answers and I know this doesn't too. But you had become everything I wanted you to become not for me but for yourself. You started being the best version of yourself and I'm happy for you.

I just am not able to realize, just not able to comprehend how it all changed.

Which reminds me that everything is turning upside down in my life, everything I thought would remain constant is changing.

I'm in a city I never thought I'd return back to. This city where I have spent exactly half of my life, this city which has given me a lot of memories both good and bad, joy as well as tears. It holds a lot of people I love as well as hate. This city is accused of having changed me, this city has shown me everything I consider a nightmare.

This is the same city I thought holds a lot of people I hate but turns out I don't hate them. It's the same city that thought me my lessons for life. Which thought me to rise, to learn and to stand out. This is the city I hated as well and I sweared I would never return to. But again this is the same city that made me laugh again.....

So dear Mr. Who I'm happy that you're happy, don't blame the city coz every city unfolds a lot of layers in us like mine did to me, and how yours is doing to you.

From,

Someone

I'm constantly struck between yesterday and tomorrow losing today. I'm struck between the old me and the future me not knowing what I am now. I'm struck in this vicious circle getting lost everyday and try to find a way out through small things everyday....

A long ride, Sufi songs and a lot of people brought this thought out on a moonlight night....

I don't express love in the right way

I don't say the right thing at the right time

But I have never been fake

Nor has my love been a hoax.

.

Just because I'm not like the rest of the world in being all sweet and cheesy

Doesn't mean I care less

.

I AM THIS WAY

I'm Adamant, Loud, Curious, Sentimental, but that doesn't mean my soul is bumbling.

.

These are traits in my character that are not so good maybe, but look there are other "good" ones too.

.

If my adamance is bothering you

Let it be.

.

If me having an opinion is smothering you

Then you are suffocating by your own thoughts.

.

I may not be the apple of your eye

Or the centre of you're world.

Guess what

I don't want to be.

But how can my mere presence bother you

Just because we hold a past

.

I'm not agitated just with you,

But by a lot of people around me.

How can you judge me so easily even after knowing me.

You're so wrong with your calculations coz your decisions aren't always the right.

.

If you still say I have a problem, then be it

Coz my problem isn't that big a deal

All I do is care too much and love too much all the wrong people at the wrong time to whom I have never been significant. Ever.

.

I'm glad your smile is above my scar.

I'm really glad.

The more you start gazing at the sky the more stars you see. The more you talk to a person the more they understand. The more you be you the more people like you. The more you give time for others the more the give you. It all starts with you

My thoughts on a starry sunday

The aspects of a long day

It's been a while since

We hung out together

Just the two of us.....

You and me...!

.

We have been on a break

The reason I despair to know

.

But there is something that happened in this break

I had been torn

I had been naive

A lot came

And a lot went by

And a lot happened.

.

It's the things I'm ashamed of

It's something I don't wanna talk about

.

I wish you had been there

To hold me back

From going all the wrong ways.

.

I want you to be there

To tell you all the aspects of the long day

.

Life turns upside down in just a matter of seconds.

I have made friends and enemies here,

Where I envy and love certain people

I do hate a few.

In just a day I'm leaving this place

Packing a lot of memories and moments

Which is heavier than my luggage.

I have made some friends for life

Whom I might not call everyday

Or think about all the while

But the place they have in my life is irreplacable

I have always been scared to let people get close to me

The fear of being vulnerable

The fear of getting so close

That if they leave I can't survive.

Very few people make an impact when they leave

But only a handpicked make an impact staying.

Today when I count those few I'm glad I have them

But I'm scared of leaving them and going

I'm not just gonna miss them

I'm gonna miss their constant presence and the impact they make

I wish tomorrow never ended

Because the next dawn is an end

To a lifetime of memories and joy

Now I realize that moving out is indeed sad

I don't wanna go

I don't wanna go...

I diagnosed myself of suicidal tendencies.

I'm over it now

I'm glad I'm over it.

I was fascinated by death

But it's over now.

What would have happened

If my thoughts had gone real..?

If my laziness had not pertained.?

Yes, I was lazy to die too...

I would have jumped off that building I pass through everyday.

I would have been somewhere else now

Food to the worms

And in time would have been just bones and only bones.

Many would have cried....

Some for days, others for weeks, and

Yet a few for months.

But the law of memory would have allowed everybody to forget me.

That's what happens to everybody.

That's normal.

But then, why is it normal..?

Why do we forget..?

We say people are everything

Then why do we forget..?

I know its moving on,

And that it's very essential.

But then, most of the time

The person doesn't even remain in our vaguest memory.

Aniversaries of death in the initial years

Brings back the flood of tears.

But with years, even that dissappears.

So, what significance do people have

What do they mean in life.?

That haunts me today

More than my chaos.

And now, death does not facinate me

But rather the question....

Why does the memory fade away..?

What makes you think

You are different from the millions of others living in this planet.?

What makes you feel

That just by not doing what others are doing

You'll be different.?

Whatever it is, you're wrong

You are no different.

The same flesh

The same organs

The same creature

Humans.

Maybe your face is different

Your finger prints are different

The color of your eyes

The length of your hair

Is different.

But that's it

You are the same.

The same flesh

The same bone

The same creature

Humans.

Just because you do or don't do something

Doesn't make you different.

The fact that you feel different

During different situations

Doesn't make you different.

It's the same

The same flesh

The same skin

The same creature

Humans.

I'm angry

I'm depressed

I'm furious

I'm sad

I'm all of this

But, they are just common human emotions.

The same flesh

The same emotions

The same creature

Humans.

And that's the melancholy of being human

It's all the same.

I am my own devil

Nothing in my life stays.

Nobody in my life stay.

It's not because they get tired of me,

It's because I shoo them away.

I am the reason for my state of mind

I lead people far away from me.

I always believe that people think anything about you on the basis of how you potray yourself

I have potrayed myself wrong

I am the cause for shifting people away from my life.

If people eventually leave that's because I make them to.

I am my own devil

The cause for my destruction

!....?

Everytime you talk to someone new. You reveal something new. And you keep wondering why you said that. So am I wondering now. Why am I telling you all this. Why am I talking to you. You were a complete stranger until recently and suddenly you have become someone I can count on. Where is all this leading to. What does all this indicate.

I have had many people come and go in my life. I dont want you to be added to that list. I like you and want you to stay. Eager to find out how this ends. Where this is taking me.

Gosh! What am I doing. Why am I doing this.?!

I dont want to...

You seldom start a journey with hopes of being somewhere, excitement of meeting someone and the thirst to be around your people.

So did I want to be in a place where no matter how crazy I become it would be fine.

Because I was going "home" where there were "my people"

Mistaken was I that it would not matter.

Because I just was an obligation they could not say no to.

The excitement was one sided and so were the hopes.

Even before reaching I want this journey to end

My destination never to come.

I want to go back and never return.

This was a bad idea but now I cant turn back.

I dont want this vaccation

I dont wanna go "home"

Love.

I really dont believe in it anymore.

There was a time when I truly did...

I had thought that....

The butterflies I got in my stomach thinking about him

Me skipping a beat when I hear his voice

His one touch making me go numb

That one kiss that mesmerized me

I thought all that was love.

So wrong was I.

You truly do love the person

But for that person to love you back

With the same compassion, the same intensity

You got to be lucky for that

Bloddy damn lucky

My love is long lost in the midst of all those I gave it to.

I dont hope to get it back now from anyone anymore.

Coz in this world of mystery love remains solved to me

In a way I never hoped it to be

I wish I had known it all beforehand

I would not have loved

Atleast not the wrong person...

...

I have that one person in life to whom I can be me and still be confident that he wont judge.

Well thats what I believe everytime I meet that person.

That one person changes with time.

Sometimes it's you

And yet other times its him or her or her

Everytime I end up talking hours together

Not leaving the smallest detail of what happened in the day

I fear that he would get bored

That he would not feel anymore.

Today I could sence that he was getting tired of me being excited of the same thing again and again

Maybe I should stop because

Maybe I get too excited about petty things

But I thought he would understand that it means the world to me.

I never thought I would say this for him because till yesterday I had something else to tell.

Yet one more time people have proven that they cant be what they promise to be

And all those promises starts to flow with the rain leaving me all back to square 1.

Thinking what went wrong this time

Home?

Everytime I go Palakkad (my native in Kerala) I have always felt butterflies in my stomach. I get goosebumps travelling there. Well thats the place I have spent the major part of my life in. Thats the place where I grew up, made friends and had fun. But that isnt my home. No it isnt. I know every nook and corner of the town. I know which way to go to and I pretty much know my destinations. I have a part of my family there but it has never been my home. Well where is my home I seriously do not know. Everytime I go there on my vaccations I feel wonderful. A feeling of content strikes me just by the sight of the station. The journey in the autorikshaw from the station to my home brings in an adrenaline rush that I am reaching somewhere I belong. This sunday I am going home. I am more than happy, I am eager, I am excited and anticipating the day to arrive as soon as possible. But then out of no where the question pops whether that I really belong there. Where that is my real home. Whether that is it or my destination named home is far far away and I am yet to find. I do not know and so does the question of home remain unanswered.

For me

What would you do if you wake up tommorow morning and realize that you are not that person anymore. That you have changed overnight. How would you react when you realize that you dont remember anything at all what happened. What would you do if you suddenly found yourself in a time span much much ahead of where you last were.

I dont know either. But somehow, somewhere I feel that I am lost. Lost in my own life. My own vicious cycle of finding myself. Being good to myself. Being the person whom I am expected to be. Whom I expect to be.

I am tired of deciding things in life after analyzing whether I am becoming what they always doubted that I would become. I am tired of the realization that I have lost track of myself.

I want to live for me. Decide for me. And do or dont do things because I want to or dont want to. I dont want to stop doing something just because maybe that is what I am becoming. I am tired of justifying everything I do. I am tired of fulfilling the expectations of others. I am tired of not becoming and sick of living for others.

I want to be me and live for me decide for me and understand me justify me feel happy for me guilty towards me and me me and me no one else.