The Cosmic Dance

Finding pieces of the Cosmos,

She started writing her story anew,

Faith and patience were weaving their own bit of magic,

There was chaos of belief and thoughts overriding it — Chaos, it was,

She began to dance atlast,

Psyche mating with the soul,

Soul mating with the COSMOS,

It was an etched finally, at last —

The Cosmic Dance, thus began for her.

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Your Body Is Your Warzone

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To humanity I speak, your body is a war zone, and you deserve the best of this universe. The artwork etched onto the inches of you is not meant for people to sketch with mutiny temporary, but a victory ‘conch’ sound of forever.
Desire will make you glide to the deepest recess in you, your wilderness in volumes.

I speak to you, and you alone—they will mark every single piece of you and you will squirm like a leaf wanting more. They will take you to places you can only imagine in your head and get you another level high, only to throw you and to not catch the pieces of you.
Too broken. Too broken.

This place was a flowerbed of love; yes, thorns two at a time. No more so uncomplicated, there are hatred and lust awry. What have we become in all this want to possess, to power, to reign rule—reality forgotten. I still look up at the sky seeking answers, and they answer with dancing trees.

To humanity alone, I speak thee;
You only deserve the best of this universe not how you seek, but how it want you to receive. No, no puppets we are, merely tied to our destiny. In your time, or mine or the timelessness in being you got to find you in your own waking sleep.

Yes, there is a timeless being. Beyond space and time. Beyond right and wrong. Beyond birth and death. Beyond this world and the other. Beyond good and evil. Beyond love and feelings not that of love. Beyond humanity. Beyond you and me.

Yes, there’s a timeless being. Yes. Your body. Your warzone.

— Radhika | feisty feral ink | Today’s Conversation

Her Undoing

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As the sea washed the sand;
She could hear the faint tunes in the sea-shells.
Timelessness engulfed the bellows of her heart;
She carved out intricate patterns in wet sand, feeling it tickle her skin.

Barefoot she walked endlessly;
Leaving a trail of her dainty footprints.
Vaccum etched her faint smiles;
Sky poured blue, showering upon her the eternal calm.

As she sat down, her chin resting on her knees;
She watched amused, he was holding her close to his heart.
She watched him whisper sweet nothings to her;
She could clearly see how she smiled at him, her eyes glinting.

She watched the sky coloured in hues of orange purple;
Dusk finally seeping in, in all her glory.
She watched him walk towards her;
Their two year old baby girl tucked in his arms.

He smiled the most childlike smile at her;
Her heart fluttered and sang in love.
She had finally found peace;
Peace in Love, love that belonged to them, from time, when time knew not, what it would be to stop and admire love so pure.

She had found peace in the deepest abyss of her abandoned heart;
He was her man for life, and their love so pure had blessed them with their undoing:Their beautiful daughter.

The Moment of Impact

The moment of Impact. The moment of impact proves potential for change. Has ripples effects far beyond what we can predict. Sending some particles crashing together. Making them closer than before. While sending others spinning off into great ventures. Landing them where you’ve never thought you’ve found them. That’s the thing about moments like these. You can’t, no matter how hard you try, controlling how it’s gonna affect you. You just gotta let the colliding part goes where they may. And wait. For the next collision.
– The Vow

Impact, the word might sound so trivial, just another common word but if I actually come to think about it, it’s not trivial at all. This moment that I write, inspired by this aforestated beautiful quote from the infamous movie- The Vow, is an Impact. That so many alike who’d read this piece, I’m all but writing from the deepest, dustiest corners of my heart; would feel an Impact from it all.

I might sound committed with every word that I’m about to type, or already have, I’m really trying to make a crucial point here- So many people that we come across, so many faces that we see and we just let go, we forget and do not remember any of it- the moment just flies away and we never really see.

We just watch, like we watch our life pass by and not really see as to what we have, what we can make of it, how is it going to be beautiful with the people we love, people who love us dearly, those we can die for, or the one’s who could take a bullet for us and choose to die in our place. That one, one moment of impact in your life where you either lose or gain and then wait for it- just one another chance to do over, maybe?
Life is a funny experience altogether- I’m breathing right now. I can feel my heart beating and eyes fluttering. I am alive right now. This moment is mine, I might be dead the next- not ever getting to know if I was here for a purpose. If I was destined to help feed the poor, be the change for this gradually collapsing world, or maybe, be with someone I’d love to my nerve endings; to my last bits and pieces and he’d never even get to know that I existed because I’d be long gone.

It’s life and it goes on- No matter who told you otherwise about life and second chance, but please take my advice to your heart and lecture them for good few hours about how life’s so unpredictable; we hardly ever know if there’d be ‘any’ chance for that matter, let alone another. We lack belief, we do. And that is the reason we are so scared to give life its freedom to screw us over and over, then be done with it once and for all. I swear we’ll come out of that mess, not in pieces but a new whole. I am craving for that Whole.
It’s all about that one Impact: That one Impact that’s my do over, that’s your do-over, or anybody to begin with. To have an Impact is crucial and all we have to do is wait till that moment of ‘Impact’ is ours.

My Own Tuneless Melody

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A broken psyche, all healed;
A broken heart, put back to pieces;
A broken dream, enlightened to a silver lining;
A broken tuneless melody, tuned up to strings.

What more? What more?

It was when I saw your naked soul slowly becoming mine;
As mine belonged to you from the time;
When my lips first touched and registered it all, to bits and pieces;
The softness of your skin, the roughness of your Five-O-Clock shadow.

It burned me through and through;
Fired up my passion- raw, pure and connective;
You were the only one my heart ever wanted;
My own tuneless melody.

One True Love

Courtesy- Google

Courtesy- Google Editing- Radhika

“What’s true love?” I asked nobody in particular.
“Something you don’t have to look for.” Someone replied casually.
I turned around taken by surprise, only to find a pair of shocked brown eyes in the mirror, looking back at the crazy stunned woman they belonged to. The woman back in the mirror there, had her mouth hanging open in a perfect ‘O’. I wondered, if, perhaps, I was finally losing my sanity.
“What’s true love?” I asked out loud, again. Just to check if that somebody would speak to me again and of course to make sure I was sane, and the voice did. It did reply back. It was me all along, my heart jumping with a victory flag. There was this happy glint in my eyes, that I could see in the mirror. I was smiling to myself and dreaming about something I was yet to discover- ‘One True Love’.

Hadn’t all of us, or, might I correct myself, most of us have been thinking about finding true love all our lives. Many of us seem to have succeeded, while others look like they could do with a glass of Chardonnay and a royale size pizza topped with extra cheese. I beg your pardon if that sounds like a horrible combination and a bit out of place- I’m but human, and I enjoy singular taste- weird combinations to be more human with my language, that might not really appeal to masses. But, well, coming back to the topic of discussion- How many of us have really thought about actually being in love?

What is love?
Is it some idealised version from one of those ‘Jane Austen’s’ literary works or an ‘over-romanticised’ notion, as a rationalist would suggest? Can we actually define love in mere few words? Or maybe it doesn’t exist at all. Just the sex. The carnal heat that makes two people who might be poles apart, get glued to each other, as a bee to its hive.
I’m not very keen about going into the details- but isn’t it something that has to be felt from the deepest corner of our heart- Like you just know it rings with that significant other.
But.. (Oh, there’s always a ‘but’!)
But, what about those who’ve been in love for years and love’s simply failing to open arms for them. I, for instance, have thought myself to have fallen in love ages ago with a man. Do I know him? Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows? He’s still faceless and unfounded, and, well, that faceless creature is just so tenacious for it seems he has no intentions of knocking at my doorstep as of now, or in near future. Do I mind, of course, I do, sometimes, though? It’s like that fire which has simply toned down to a beautiful flame than the blazing inferno that it used to be. Someday, perhaps, yes it would. It isn’t some kind of pep talk with self, just little something called hope. It fails to leave me alone.

What really is true love, then? My logical side would say- ‘a chemical reaction’. My feminist side would tag it as- ‘companionship of the equals’. My heart would, rather- ‘If you go looking for it, you won’t know. If you know, you’d never have to go looking for it’. Complicated, eh?
Well, since when, was ‘love’ an easy conquest? Or maybe it is and was all along. Depends on how deeply you’re connected. Had ‘love’ been ’bout being easy, William Arthur Philip Louis and Catherine Elizabeth, nee Middleton would still be married, but with respective partners.

Shadow and Identity

Photo Credits- Alfio-Finocchiaro

Photo Credits- Alfio-Finocchiaro

I’ve been a shadow so far, shadow with no identity;
A far off place it will be, a place that’d be sanity;
It’s easy, easy to pretend to be someone that I am not- a stray memory;
A thought that is, a thought of my own blood and flesh,
beholding a sane part of my psyche;

A sound so lethal it hurts deep down, the sound of emptiness, of my broken piece;
An incarnation of my thoughts I will be, to sway the dust from my rotten flesh;
Words come undone singing praises of the happy place I want to achieve;
Someday I’ll escape to a far off place, to never return and fake glee.

-Radhika