Hang In There

Dear Stranger,

All those times, over the year
I’ve seen what you’ve gone through.
In all those times of utmost fear,
I’ve seen how you’ve fought too.

Every evening, as you step to the attic
You stare a bit far into the horizon.
Every time, I step into my attic
I search for your smiles; in hopes of liaison.

I've seen you burn those cigarettes down,
Occasionally getting drunk too.
I’ve heard you wail and swear in frown
Of reasons I’m unknown to.

And often I've caught you look at me
With glimpses that summon me;
Those eyes that seek of help and plea
To fix it all if may be.

But today was the worst I realized
As you drenched yourself in the rain.
I saw you cry; teared up those eyes,
I saw you giving in to the pain.

But dear stranger,

Did you see the shine of the sun back then?
Or the hues of the skies that spoke to you;
Those bright little rays despite the rain,
Of hopes and dreams that come true.

While there are fires burning in and around us.
Ending the world as we know it.
Let's fight against it consuming us.
Standing strong and hanging on, to every last bit.

Trust me,

We are all going through the same.
We’re all hurt in a way or two.
So it’s not fair to quit the game,
But live it all up, like champions do.

Voices of Her Ghost

Context: On the 2nd of November, a fateful accident took place in the state of Kerala, killing two beauty pageant winners and a friend. However, instead of mourning over the irreplaceable loss of those accomplished youngsters, who once made their families, cities, and the state proud, our people took it to social media, to morally harass the departed. They shamed them for being out that late with men, especially Ansi on religious grounds. They ridiculed their parents for their wrongful upbringing and pointed out how these youngsters set the wrong example for others to follow. Their loved ones were so hurt, it caused Ansi's mother to contemplate suicide, out of the fear of facing society's judgments. This poem was written out of my rage towards the ruthless society we live in. If her soul were to know what the society's been doing of her death, this is what she would've said.

Voices of Her Ghost

A hundred hours of silence, 
And I still haven't mourned myself,
Having lost a friend and a loved one too,
Waiting to be healed by time itself.

I may be clothed, but I feel naked,
Lying here helpless, as I laid there.
Staring at the world around me, afraid
Neither me nor mine they would spare.

You cleanse me with water,
Keep me covered in a linen shroud,
Then throw at me your filthy words,
Or an ominous silence, even more loud.

Some worried faces, some nonchalant nods,
Some advice from the old and wise.
An accident it was, or ill fate,
And yet, all your tongues called it a vice.

Those judging eyes; their glances.
I see death in your momentary stare.
They carry around like incense sticks,
The stench of shame, lingering in the air.

My parents for sure only did me good.
How dare you blame it on bad parenting?!
Remorseful and tired they might've been 
To believe and give into all this badgering.

I agree I should've been more cautious myself
Not of those men I knew, but of you,
Who have never met my acquaintance while I lived,
Yet reassure, everything about me you knew.

I now see the danger in you religious fanatics, 
And the world you've made for me,
Composed of a society led by flag bearers
Of male chauvinism and patriarchy.

A life I've spent making people happy and proud.
Tainted are those moments they'll now remember,
By the faced and the faceless, who'll bury me alone,
Leaving behind what you call disgrace, and I, slander.