On the Way to Healing.

imageBefore we heal, we must suffer. It’s the natural order. Before we heal, we must suffer. It’s the natural order. Before we heal, we must suffer. It’s the natural order.
Before we heal, we must suffer. It's the natural order.

They say the passage of time will heal all wounds. But the greater the loss, the deeper the cut, and, the more difficult the process to become whole again. The pain may fade but scars serve as a reminder of our suffering. And, the bearer all the more resolved never to be wounded again. We suffer when we don’t want to accept some beloved’s hand in the pain, and we suffer when we don’t want to let go. So, as time moves along, we get lost in the distractions, act out in frustration, react with aggression, give in to anger. And, all the while, we plot and plan as we wait to grow stronger. And, before we know it, the time passes. We are healed, ready to begin anew.



Life, with Love.

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They say fate smiles upon us and floods our lives with happiness when we have had our share of hurt. It takes time and patience. Lots of it. But it happens. And, we live our life believing the wise words of the, well, wise. We learn to rationalise all the messed up shit that went down because there must be a reason. Sometimes we question it, sometimes we don’t. And, we start to believe that after all is said and done, we will come out on top and have a wonderful, wonderful life. But we know what happens to the plans and expectations. They disappoint us more than they don’t. And, we are back to questioning everything that has happened. We lose the faith and we start the downward spiral to the burgeoning pit of hopelessness. We become a shell of ourselves, only sadder and depressed. That’s where love comes in. It finds us drowning in the deep end and throws the float. We hold on for our lives and it sails us through. And, when we get out of the pit, we leave behind the slabs of hopelessness tied to our feet that had been pulling us in, and throw our arms wide, welcoming a life full of excitement and opportunities. And, of course, love. Always, love.


The unnecessary Debris.

When he had walked inside,

He had bled.

The broken pieces of my heart

Had been scattered everywhere.

He had cleaned the wounds,

His and mine.

And then, he had settled in

With a curtain on the broken window

And the cardboard boxes strewn around.

Some to be unpacked.

Others, empty,

With a promise to dispose off

The unnecessary debris.


Bringing her words to life.

Alienating her heart

From the rest of her

Being hadn’t been

The easiest thing.

She was her heart.

Her poems were a

Part of her soul

And without the

Touch of the

Messed up muscle

All they reeked of

Was defeat.

She needed her heart

To bring her words

To life.


Summer’s here.

And, when he turned

The corner and found

Summer standing

At the bend of the road,

He exhaled slowly and realised

He could get over the disappointing past.

The seasons were changing.

Summer was just around

The corner afterall.🐚



Ready to Live.

She sat down on the window sill

And stared as time passed her by.

Remembering the hurt one last time,

She spread the ashes of her past

On a mild breeze

And watched the days

Poignant with her grief flutter away.

She was finally free.

She was ready to live.

Once again.