Revise Revise, until it sounds like music

A few days ago, I was talking to a friend of mine. She is a very smart person and I especially love talking about books with her. We were talking about how canonical poets used to edit their work very meticulously. So, I asked her whether she edits her poems afterwards. And she said yes. Now, there is a reason why I write it now. And her explanation has stuck with me.
She said that when we write poems, they are pure emotions. The raw emotions are best understood by you and no one else. Therefore, we need to edit our poems.
I guess, while we are in the process of editing those poems, we clear out the parts which are too personal. We can make our message more clear. And then make our poems mor universal. The sad part is, I haven't written poems in a while and to tell the truth, I really miss it. After writing a poem, I miss the exhiliration of seeing a poem in front of me that is truly mine, even though it is a product of raw emotion.
Maybe I should make a sincere effort to write now. And not just creative, but critical. Because to get into my masters course, I have to learn to write creatively.
PS: Tomorrow is the first LitSoc meeting since I became Prez. Yay! I hope it goes awesomely well!

Distance

I am in a place right now where everyone who is closest to me is far away. My parents live five countries away. My best friend lives in Chennai (Damn you, NIFT) and my other two best friends live in Bombay. And finally, my favourite boy in the whole world lives in Pune. And sometimes, it sucks. I love my friends here, more than life itself. But I realy do miss the former people so much. Phones just never seem enough sometimes. So much time passes before I get to see any of them. And it is risky. Because, you never know when they may drift apart. I am specially scared of losing my connection with my parents. Because they keep worrying about me. They worry that I will not be able to be stable here unless they I lose focus on them. Which is not true. I want to know everything about their day and life. I miss them so much sometimes its painful. But such is life. I have made a pact with Dad that when he retires, he and mom and shreya move in with me. And I think its a cool plan. As for Aru, she and I have been handling a LDR way before she moved to Chennai. She moved to Japan when I was six. We were together in Bombay for three years and then she moved to Dehra. And now Chennai. I was desperately hoping she would come to Delhi for college but its cool. Chennai will make her independent. And then we have decided we will become the coolest roomates EVER! Mister Awesome is far away. He is adorable and I wish we could do all those things that normal couples do. But I know we will be together one day.
Hence, when I finally get to live with everyone, my house will have:
My parents, Shreya's family, Mister Awesome, His mom, His nana-nani, Breezer, A lhasapso, Aru and her family. Yay!! This is a great assurance for the being alone for now. :)

Unititled again

This is about the strength that came from the inside and luminated my entire body. Carried me above and made me see the pitiless figure I had become. It took a suppression of self respect till it refused to be pushed down anymore. It rose, forced me rise and see myself in a new light. I will cry no more. No, I will not cry anymore.

Migration Phenomenon

Why do migratory birds come to India from Russia, every year? Don’t they know that they their home will get very cold for thousands of years? Why haven’t they still adapted to nature, their nature? Why are they refusing to adjust when the alternative is a lot of hard work? Flying thousands of miles to escape what their bodies could never adapt to, Darwin should be puzzled. Should one try to ‘draw’ an analogy from this fact? Or should it be left, because sometimes natural processes might not reflect life. I am still thinking of analogies. Maybe I don’t have enough experience.  Maybe, I don’t have enough knowledge to decipher this phenomenon in the right way. Maybe, I should fly out and attain both.

Luckiest Girl In The World

It is awful when you lose power over yourself, you are completely at the mercy of your emotions and they are bent to get the worst out of you. Yesterday was one of those days where, had I been left alone, I would've done something that future me would not be proud of.
After a traumatic phone call, I sat on my bed, completely broken. It was the worst feeling ever. I pressed the call button again but cut it. Again, and I disconnected. Then, I go up, went to the mirror, looked at myself and I thought. What would happen if this ends? Will I be able to survive it? And sadly, I had serious doubts on myself. It was then that I picked up my phone and I wrote, ' I am feeling really low right now. I need you. Just don't ask me what its about. Just make me happy.' I sent this to Arushi, Richa, Sanya, Saad, Bhavna, Pragya. And I am so glad, they were there to save my life!
Immediately after I sent the message, Sanya, my true love, called me and asked me to tell her what the problem was. When I refused, she again asked. Then she suggested that I get chocolate and go for a walk. I felt my mood lift up and I felt like there were people around me who love me. Her voice gave me a high! A much needed one, at that.
Then Sadaf texted and asked me if I wanted to meet up. I asked her if she would come to my hostel. She said, 'I am almost there'. So true? No baby, you are always there.
Bhavna called as I was texting Saad. She asked me talk, I didnt. She then tried to make me laugh, suggesting ways to be happy. She diverted my mind. Made things seem easier. Life seemed lesser trying.
Saad came, with her incessant nonsense, much neeeded by me that time. And yay!
Richa started texting me. Said the things I needed to hear. Told me that I will make her proud someday.

Later, in the hostel, my two new found soul-ies, Isha and Amishi made things like a cake walk. They make me talk, don't make stupid assumptions. And listen. Yesterday, Isha truly remarked, 'Where does all that feminism go when you are getting hurt this way?'

When your self esteem is pushed into the ground, there is no other option for it but to rise up. I guess, I don't have to take shit anymore. I will be alright no matter what happens. I have people who truly love me. And that GOD for that. :)

Can I Make You Love Me Again, Daddy

I know what I did hurt you,

And I know you will find it hard to trust me again.

But believe me when I say that,

I can raise this baby alone.



It is true that I do not know

What it takes to raise a child.

But when I heard that there is

A human growing inside me,

I no longer remained a child.



No, it was not done in the heat of passion,

I agree this is not how it was meant to be.

But there no way I am going to let

this baby suffer for the mistake made by me.



Won’t I regret this decision later?

Maybe I will, maybe I will not.

It is future still,

Even in this case, no one knows.



But for now I know that

I just cannot be selfish

Nor can i let everyone else decide

Whether I am ready to have a child.





I know it will be hard, Daddy

But as long as I know you still love me

And believe that I can do this

Then maybe, I will be able to do it right

And show this child, a better world.

A Sonnet spoke to Moi?

‘I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe;

...Oft turning others’ leaves, to see if thence would flow

Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sun-burned brain.

...’fool,’ said my Muse to me, ‘look in thy heart and write.’’

Who knew that I would find Sir Philip Sidney to understand the pain of a writer? These are such beautiful words, carefully explaining the woes of a creative writer who is going through a writer’s block. These lines I have borrowed from the first sonnet of ‘Astrophil and Stella’. This sonnet is dedicated to Stella. The poet wants to write something that will impress her intelligence and through this he hopes to win her grace. It is in this process that he wants to compose a piece of writing but cannot because his creativity is exhausted for now. He is completely de-motivated and he cannot find inspiration to write. He calls his brain ‘sun-burned’ because it is parched and dry with ideas. The poet has tried to seek inspiration from other writer’s works with no results. And then suddenly, as if with a miracle, his ‘Muse’ tells him to write whatever he feels from his heart. This is to show that Stella is in his heart and that she is the motive for his writing. She inspires him. And that is the most beautiful aspect of this sonnet.

But what makes me think is that why was I attracted to the aspect of the sonnet dealing with the writer and his woes. I have been debating this question in my mind for a long time now: can creativity be exhausted? Will not a piece of work re-create itself later if you don’t write it down at the same moment? Is imagination this fickle? And then, how long can you write about things that are close to your heart. In my understanding, the only way you can do this is by being multi-faceted. This way you have a range of things to write about and yet never worry about your words tiring out. I am still thinking about this problem. From what I have heard, these are very hard to write and harder to study. But for now I am really excited because I understood a sonnet. Yay!