Oh Writing, Why Must You Desert Me?

Yes, yes, I know. I return a month later to show my face and all I have to regale my readers with are...rants, to say the least.

Damn writer’s block. I only wish I could show you the numerous snippets of attempted writing in the past weeks which have not gone beyond a 100 words, mind you.

But, if I’m not mistaken, I’m entitled to use this space to ramble away. It was my main purpose for coming on here!

So, what has this person been up to since the last date of posting, I hear you ask? Oh dear, if only I could go to detail just how school has nearly been the undoing of me (so much for being in the Cabinet/Student Council; which is more like dancing to the tune of a puppeteer, I tell you) or how travelling for competitions has taken the life out of me – and here’s the catch, both of them were proper literary events! One, a pithy little essay-writing competition which was a part of an inter-school event, the topic being (oh kill me) ecological benefits of cycling. So much for creative writing. I still managed the third prize despite my not so cohesive writing.

 Then the other, a Model United Nations debate; this time part of a college fest. Now, world politics is a pet subject of mine and simulating the UN with all its complex procedure and completely formal demeanour is quite challenging and fun too – meant for people like me who love arguing to death, while striking a balance between varied perspectives on matters of international significance. The agenda being? Terrorism and the Israel-Palestine conflict. For those who have even a little inkling of what the latter issue is (it would be too presumptuous on my part to consider even asking about the first one) they will know how extremely complicated it is to try and resolve it like the watchdogs of our world do, that too within a span of two days. And if you’re representing none other than the country of United States of America, you’re in for a disaster – do not ask how. Which I nearly averted with another third prize; talk about 3 being a lucky number. Have you ever heard of a proper U.S. delegate not interfering in any issue whatsoever? Well, you just met one.

And here I had thought I was one of most astute debaters my school could boast of, sigh.

Extra-curricular aside, here come the bone of contention for every student (unless you’re a self-proclaimed geek/nerd). Exams! The rotten thing is, I will resort to writing in the most flowery language possible when I should be preparing for the next day’s paper. Too bad it is not working for me currently, or else you wouldn’t have to go through this sorry excuse for a blog post. This month has been absolutely frenetic and it is going to be so right up till Diwali. Then, of course, the withering rose will bloom again, so much that the thorns will draw blood even at the slightest of touch. For now, this is my situation:

I would gladly like to answer in the affirmative but I'm afraid it's not possible until the writing bug bites me while I'm supposed to be studying Economics and Business Administration. Seems more likely now, eh? The impromptu hiatus is now an official one, folks. See you around the corner. :)

Sacrilege

Cast aside your misgivings,

Your minion I’m surely not.

Neither am I unworthy

Of the pedestal you so gallantly adore.

Cast away, cast away

Your aspersions; they shall burn

In the blaze of my resolve.

I’m not scorned, neither do I seek vengeance

I only seek to silence

The scheming voice in your mind,

That blinds you to my makings.

Henceforth I break your bonds.

Do I see you tremble?

Behind the façade of bravado,

Hear, hear, your diffidence shows!

Do not make me reiterate

My avowal to turn my fate around.

I dare you, I shall not be buried.

...........................................................................................................

More thorns than petals much, eh? Oh dear. 

Unnamed, Unknown...

“I wish I could be like you.”

Words. Meaningless, utterly hypocritical. Do they even know what they are talking about?

She could have stated her mind. She simply chooses to smile in response.

“You’re flattering me.”

She knows they only want to be at the same receiving end as her. So does everyone else.

...

It’s strange. Fear is all pervasive. And more than anything else, it is the fear of rejection that permeates through the strongest wills.

No wonder, the dying art of being oneself...

She is no exception to the rule. The flame of accomplishment has engulfed her entirely.

But she knows who she is.

It takes her a mere glance in someone’s eyes to figure they had already traded their souls for the drudgery of a cut-throat life.

“You...you really don’t know what you truly desire, do you?”

A sigh, often a sad smile in response. Voice tingling with untold emotions.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

...

Victim. An ugly word – speaking of injustice and aggravation meted out from the hands of others.

Who dares to call destiny the victimiser?

 “No one gets you. How can you be so calm in the face of such provocation?”

She smiles yet again.

“I don’t believe in others controlling me. I call the shots.”

...

“Who has the time to waste after such frivolities?”

She sighs. Those blind, ignorant creatures, audacious enough to call something as basic as pleasure, 

scratch that, satisfaction as ‘frivolous’.

They don’t know when their own grave will catch up with them, forcing them to lie forever in the cold gloom while they had hardly begun to clutch at the warm sunshine.

“Perhaps you would live...if only others chose to do the same.”

...

Eyes closed, breath withdrawn...she tiptoes, arms stretched wide, hair fluttering in the breeze.

The world before her is still, bathed in the effervescent glow of nature.

She’s a part of that world.

She doesn’t belong here.

“If only I look as good as...”

She laughs mockingly. This time she doesn’t mince her words.

“Look within or you will be another living mannequin.”

...

“Help me. I’m lost.”

She searches their eyes, ‘the window to the soul’. The fire has died.

She looks away.

“Even if I were to help...you would be lost again.”

...

“I need another chance.”

She pins them with a questioning look.

“Chance? What did you with the one already given?”

Obstinacy finds its way here too.

“We haven’t lived for ourselves. No one does.”

“Then why need another life?”

...

“I don’t want to die.”

“Why?”

“Because, because...there’s no reason why one would leave life!”

Her eyes are downcast as she mulls.

“You’re in love with yourself.”

Confusion. Puzzlement. Isn’t one supposed to love oneself first?

She smiles, softly, gently. Like an angel. Like a fairy.

“You’re not the role, as memorable as it might be.”

The role is cast away. The essence glimmers.

Her eyes close.

...........................................................................................................

I wonder how much it makes sense. Oh well, but I had to post this. 

Love Enchained

Wound my heart, sear my soul,

Did I not claim I was yours to take?

Like a lovely rose drawing blood

With its piercing thorns,

Your embrace stings me to the core,

And yet…I remain where I am.

Your insidious lust binds me

I sing of chaste love, blithely

Ignorant of those bonds

That ravage me of my strength

Only to be immersed

In the inferno of your self.

Flames tinged with the dying blush

Of fading memories, speaking of days

Humane and generous in their wake,

Your reflection is distorted,

Your spirit is singed.

In your pursuit of dominance,

Making me a willing slave

Would my demise sate your thirst?

Nothing more would please

My twisted yearning for vengeance

Than to see you lost

In self-immolation

Oh, would I not forsake my fragile existence!

To see you soaked in my life-blood,

So near and yet so far…

Your endeavour could never make me yours.

..........................................................................................................

No, I didn't think I could write something like this. Call it expiation, call it catharsis, I don't know how to define it. 

That said, I shall only reappear when the rains are kind enough to nurture the sapling of creativity to the fullest. :)

Nemesis

Words aren’t needed, yet

Who said you would escape quietly?

Under a guise of adoration,

You cast your spell.

Did you take me to be so weak,

So as to simply buckle

Beneath your intimidation?

Your rivalry would have been an honour,

But I’m content to smile back.

You don’t realise, do you?

The favour you did me.

Your resilience burns through

A pervasive aura of merciless strength.

It is nothing but one of your tactics

Leaving me defensive.

I envisage you standing over my shoulder,

Smirking in delight,

For each step I take, each word I speak…

Someday, I will be where you are.

...........................................................................................................

I'm still not happy with my writing. *sighs* 

Other than that, I realise that words have power. I must be careful with my author's notes in future. 

The Insightful Charm

The translucent, curved pendant gleamed like the moon, reflecting greyish undertones from its circular countenance.

“Do you like it?”

I nodded, too overwhelmed to respond. “It’s chalcedony, isn’t it?”

Another nod confirmed my guess.

The medallion dangled from the delicate silver chain I held in my hand, working it to and fro.

“Here, let me,” he offered, taking the ornament from my hands and tying it around my neck.

I sighed. “Can I thank you enough?”

He chuckled. “It’s fine. You needed a charm.”

I was too caught up in observing how my new possession sparkled and glimmered in the fading sunlight, until he leaned in to whisper, “Sometimes, that is all one needs, eh?”

For a moment I was taken aback, not comprehending his words.

He pointed towards the glittering pendant. I looked at it closely, until it struck me as to how it seemed to take on a life of its own, becoming the sun itself as rays shone over its surface.

I couldn’t distinguish any colour.

He sighed, more so out of contemplation than disquiet. “You see, had it been any other stone, it would have drawn on the light to enhance its own beauty, whereas this little piece simply becomes a medium for the light to shine.”

I saw the meaning as clear as day. Glancing towards him in astonishment, I managed to utter. “You certainly don’t mean…”

He nodded, smiling. “Why did I say that it suits you? Because you yourself are like this piece of chalcedony.”

...

Lame, I know. But the fact that school is about to begin, tomorrow, does this to my writing, I suppose. In any case, I did want to flesh out the analogy of the pendant, but neither can I find the words, nor I have the inclination to do so. Maybe later, perhaps. 

Matrimonial Affairs

She had always been able to figure what she wanted to do, despite the veil of indecisiveness that she wore just to give others the benefit of doubt.

But today...she didn’t know if she could withstand the consequences if she chose either way.

The sparkling diamond set in a slender gold ring wasn’t making it any easier.

She was being asked to marry. Him. The sheer intensity of the moment, as he knelt down and proposed her, shook her from head to toe.

Say, how would it be if we were married?

He couldn’t get more obvious than this. She should have known better.

“We have been living together for, what, like two years? Why do you want to marry me?”

A slightly offended look crossed his face and she bit her tongue. Oh dear, that sounded completely wrong.

“No, scratch that. I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to marry you, but, it’s…it’s…isn’t it a bit too sudden?” No sooner did she say than her hand went to her mouth in shock, her eyes wide and beguiling – the very picture of confused innocence.

He laughed. “Don’t tell me the idea of marriage has never crossed your mind.”

She looked into his eyes, surprised. In her frenzy, she had not noticed the subtle signs that showed how equally difficult it was for him. The hand that held the ring shook in the slightest, so did his gaze which wavered every now and then.

She took a moment to ponder on his remark. Of course the idea had come to her: which girl doesn’t dream of marriage? Nevertheless, fantasies apart, she had honestly not reckoned that their relationship would come to this threshold, not now at least.

However, as she looked at him, taking in his profile as he continued to kneel, she knew without a doubt how fortunate she was. Considering their diverse backgrounds and how their personalities were poles apart, she had never expected him to be so adjusting, even compromising. The very fact that he was proposing to her of all people; this simple, unassuming girl who could be said to be living in the shadow of her glorious counterparts (whom he knew, obviously) was admirable.

She looked away, slightly smiling. “I cannot dishonour your esteemed proposition, can I now?”

                                                                                 

A sigh of relief escaped him but he didn’t spare her a retort. “You’re not obliging me.”

“Of course not,” she affirmed as she knelt down to the same level as him, extending her hand.

They looked into each other’s eyes as he gently slipped the ring onto her finger.

No words were needed.