Wednesday, 16 August 2017

The Balcony


There it was. A yawn. Sleep had finally hit. A quick look at my mobile told me it was 1.13 am; so well, it was about damn time since I had already whiled away a couple of hours aimlessly. After trying to read a book, failing at it, then trying to watch a movie and failing at that too, I had cluelessly wandered out to the balcony around 11.30 pm. Had just stood out there like a zombie for around 20 minutes, only to realize that it was chilly and also that my legs were beginning to ache. Going back in, I had wrapped myself in a cozy blanket, grabbed Holly for company, dragged out my bamboo chair for a seat and settled down; to gaze blankly at the wide and empty sky, or to contemplate, as I like to call it. (I had always been immensely thankful to my balcony on sleepless days like this. The view is beautiful and absolutely calming, with only bare land, thick trees, and the sky to behold; not to mention the enjoyable privacy.)

Now, I had snapped back from oblivion with the sudden yawn only to realize again that I pretty much remembered nothing about the thoughts that had transpired in my mind during the time of "contemplation". Deciding that the sanest thing to do was to sleep, I was just about to get up when something moved in my peripheral vision on the left. It was a tiny light, flickering behind a clump of trees that was about 50 yards away and just beyond our building fence. I looked closer. The light was dim, vanishing now and then. Was that light coming from a mobile torch? It definitely looked like one that was concealed safely within a shirt's front pocket; and if so, the dark object HAD to be a person. Soon, a dark object materialized into my view, which was moving slowly along the tree-shrouded path. Feeling a quick chill run down my spine, I craned my neck and listened hard for a silent rustle or a crunch or any sound that was a sign of human life down there. Two seconds later, a thin scraping noise reached my ears, like something heavy was being dragged on the ground. By then, I had begun to shiver, both from cold and the fear of unknown.

I sat rooted to the chair, my eyes following the silhouette and ears taking in the scraping that suddenly seemed too loud and obvious amid the natural noises of the night time. A few more seconds and the party would emerge out of the thicket that obscured my view, and I could clearly see what was going on down there. Wrapping my blanket even more tightly over my head and hugging Holly to my chest, I waited. After what seemed like years, the light was finally near the edge of the last tree. My heart beat quickened and I dared not to even blink, for fear of missing something. That's when the light stopped moving and the silhouette suddenly disappeared, just behind the last tree. The noise had also subsided.

Almost a minute had passed and there was still no movement. I could only spot the dull torch gleam and nothing more. In order to get a better view, I leaned slightly to my right and craned my neck. Still nothing. I was just about to shift further to the side when the light, without any warning, quickly shot up to the tree top from where it was hovering. 

*Crash*

The shock of movement had completely tipped me off balance and I had fallen sideways from my chair to the balcony floor. Hoisting myself up hurriedly and picking Holly from the floor, I stole another quick glance at the light before running inside. As the light caught my eye again, it dawned upon me just then - it was a firefly gleam. 


P.S: I realized later on that I did not even have my mobile with me outside. Confused to the core, I returned back to bed, spotted my mobile, and grabbed it to check the time. It was only 12.44 am. Apparently, I had snapped back from my oblivion only after the fall from the chair. Neither had there been a dark object nor a scraping noise. The wonders and imagination that a jobless mind is capable of just amazes me :D

P.P.S: Holly is the only toy I've known in my life till now, who has been keeping me company for more than eight years. She looks like a cross between a dog and a teddy.

Anusha

Friday, 17 March 2017

Tell me, what do you wonder about?


Tell me, what do you wonder about?
Is it the way the Sun sneaks up
in the wee hours of the morning
and lights up the horizon?

Or maybe it is the chance that
we are not really alone
in this sweeping universe.
Do you fear or hope, thinking about it?

Does the thought of roads that bespoke
the stamp of mankind ever strike you?
Perhaps you too, just like many, seek to one day
set foot in an unexplored land.

Would you dare to take a step forward
if I invited you to wake up in my dreams?
Do you think about what I have to offer?
Tell me, what do you wonder about?

The wonders that you hold within you pull me towards you.
Tell me your dreams, and I shall show you mine.


Monday, 13 March 2017

Asking For It, by Louise O'Neill

I needed to take some time off and set my mind right before I could write this book a review. I have never till now in my life felt so uncomfortable while reading a book. The book is about a rape victim, and yes, it is also only a fictional story. But, that doesn't meant you can't trace the story back to the roots of reality from which it has been penned down. 

Stay warned, the writing is not very good. Editing is pathetic too in a couple of places. But, in this particular book, the aforementioned publishing rules take a backseat and the story dominates you. Emma, the protagonist, is one of the most beautiful girls in a small Irish town. Almost all the guys have their eye on her, and she even enjoys the attention; until that fateful day. Overcome with jealousy during one of the party nights, and wanting the guys in the room to take note of her, she pushes herself to do the extreme. The next morning, she wakes up a rape victim, not remembering a single detail. Raped by not just one, but 3-4 guys. In this book, the author captures something even more worse than the devastating incident: The Life After. Not just the life of Emma, but the rape-accused, Emma's parents, friends, media, and the whole town. It's soul-wrenching.

I winced at a lot of places in the book, not just after the rape but even before it. The jealousy that Emma feels when she sees girls who are prettier than her - even for friends she calls her own. The disgusting way in which she pines for attention, deciding that glamour is the only way to achieve it. The casual (read: Hateful) attitude with which she flaunts her body to catch eyes, and break hearts. Her character sketch is so revolting that 30-40 pages into the book, you are already hating Emma. The author has done this precisely to push us readers into a state of confusion, to question our own conscience. After all, Emma is a self-indulgent detestable creature. It's quite easy to close your mind and tell everyone that she had it coming. But, did she really? Answering this Q would be so easy if the girl had been one of those innocent dolls. On the other hand, which side will you take when it's a girl like Emma? Will you have what it takes to broaden your perspective, see above the characters of people involved, and regard the whole nature of rape? Think about it.

Anyway, the rape came soon after and I began wincing even more :( Throughout the book, the only comfort I could offer my conscience was that this is just fiction. But, you know the truth is there; right there, glaring at you. This is not just about Emma; this is about the number of lives that a single incident has the power to destroy. Here and there, the author casually slips in a number of "what ifs" which, had they happened, the rape would become non-existent and life would be the sweet sameness for Emma and others. My takeaway were those "what ifs". 

The book is a ghost, and it will haunt you.

Note: This book only tries to bring out the partying culture which leads to slut-shaming, the girl supposedly asking for it, forced consent and eventually to rape. The author has chosen this specific setting because she claims that one out of three rapes occur when the girl is drunk (Not sure about the larger population against which this statistic is based.)

Review originally published on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/review/show/1934216789

Wednesday, 4 January 2017

twaiku #3 - || faraway fantasies ||

You are the gentle cradle I yearn for
but will never know the feel of,
just like his arms.

- conversations with a crescent moon


Tuesday, 3 January 2017

|| The Drifter ||

A drifter my soul is now,
without any roots.
Devouring islands of newness
and novelty for survival.

In my dreams, I float
through broken pieces
of a mirror, each a
different shade of transience.

When the elating moments
of exploration evaporate,
I am engulfed by
a web of mundane affairs.

I am summoned, into the
lair of oblivion that lies in the
murky depths of the sea of ennui.
And I let myself sink slowly.

But, a dwindling light beckons
at the far end of my vision.
Eyes hungrily on the tiny glow,
I claw my way back and flop down.

Persist I shall, hopping through isles
to where the light takes me;
To the day I kindle the eternal fire,
with my mortality.

|| Until then, today is just another day ||