The Mirror

They weren’t eyes,
They were
Windows to you;
A glimpse of my
Secrets.

No matter how hard I tried,
Pain had a way of making
Itself evident through the
Brown hues fading into
The morbid blackness
Hovering upon my
Existence.

They’re tainted pink & purple,
But exhaustion is always
Crystal clear.

Didn’t you ever feel,
Like you were
Looking in a
Mirror?

Maybe that’s why I
Could never read your eyes,
Because I wasn’t looking
Inside a window,
But at a mirror.

I never understood what I saw,
For I’ve never been
Familiar enough
With myself.

(It wasn’t you I was tired of looking at, it was me)

Shards of broken glass
Still pierce my mind,
But I’d rather be
Blind than give
In to expectations
That will forever
Be unmet.

-Nameera.

Apprehensions Regarding Bharat.

Hey y’all!
About 2 months ago I mentioned in one of my posts that I was going to talk about my apprehensions on moving to India. So, here it goes.

1. Nostalgia.
I don’t think there’s a way to avoid this. Every minute I breathe, eat, or talk there’s going to be an inevitable wave of nostalgia making me homesick. Though I’m sure I’ll get over it with time.

2. Time.
Okay, I swear to God time flies in India! Days seem longer than nights which is really upsetting to my routine since Saudi Arabia is all about night life. It’s always a major problem during Ramadan when I’ve to fast, time never passes quickly.

3. Papa Johns.
PAPA JOHNS HAS BEEN A FAILURE IN INDIA. Enough said. (Read Here)

4. Traffic.
Drivers rarely honk here unless of course we’re stuck in traffic. I go deaf when I’m travelling by road in the city in India.

5. Al-Baik.
This is a fast food chain found only in Madinah, Makkah & Jeddah (if I’m not mistaken) that most of us have been eating since childhood. No fast food outlet can replace Al-Baik. Ever.

6. Cotton Candy.
Okay so this is prolly just a figment of my imagination. Cotton candy is my favorite ice cream flavor at Baskin Robbins. The last time I tried it in India it wasn’t as sweet as it is here. I really hope it was my taste buds lol.

7. Competition.
So, growing up away from the country & studying in an Indian school we’ve been told by our teachers that students in India are way more competitive than us. We’re literally made to feel like losers.

8. Ice-rink.
Does anyone of you know of an ice-rink in India? Particularly in the North. Do let me know. Because I really haven’t seen/heard about one there.

Well, half of the points I mentioned above are irrelevant. All I can say is I’m looking forward to this drastic change even if it means that I’ll have to adapt to a new lifestyle.

And I didn’t feel the need to mention my love for the two Holy places that I’m going to regret leaving forever.

Thanks for reading!

In My Mind

Compliments -I’ve always loathed them,
I mean, can’t we just keep quiet?

Even Pablo Neruda would agree,
After all ‘Keeping Quiet’ was his dream.
Or was it just wordplay to soothe the senses and brighten perspectives?

It’s funny how I sugarcoat depression,
Making it taste like candy just so I can forget what self-hate does
To my tongue.

(Candy is sweet)

I’ve a strange resonance with Edgar Allan Poe,
Mind you, I don’t need melancholy to have a gothic soul.
But his words were the first,
To spark within me the love for all things dark and sad.

‘A dream within a dream’ how else would you define life?

While other girls look for ‘Fault in Our Stars’,
I’m content to watch spaceships dart right across the universe into a Black hole,
Where a concourse of time and space is relishing to the eyes,
On how devoted I am to the glories Of an idiot box.

I like to announce my carelessness,
Pronouncing each mistake with immense satisfaction.
I’m not a peach, I’m a nut,
Impossible to crack.
Impossible to chew.

(Alas! the irony makes me sigh)

Hurt me once, oh please do,
I’ll be kind, I promise you.

Hurt me thrice,
Picture me cutting you into pieces,
Unfathomable to the mind.

(I used to cut plastic dolls, you know)

-Nameera.


I’ve gone way overboard with free-verse poetry, don’t you think?

As some of you might already know, I mostly resort to writing poems with a certain rhyme scheme.

Well, for a little change I decided to go for free-verse poetry.

This is an epitome of letting my thoughts flow. I literally wrote the first thing that came to my mind lol.

Words Can Heal your Heart.

Your heart will give your life wings.

~Unknown

The above quote has always been my favorite simply because every time I felt like giving up I only had to take out this old artwork & relive the strength I felt while making it ages ago. In a moment all my problems would seem too small to fret over.

Wherever you go, go with all your heart.

~Confucius

A talent that not all possess is doing things with all their heart. Sometimes we’re unable to achieve few goals in life due to unknown reasons. But are we really working towards that goal? Or are we simply focused on the aftermath rather than putting our minds into the process?

Do your work with your whole heart, and you will succeed – there’s so little competition.

~Elbert Hubbard

Now do you see the answer to your ‘unknown’ reasons for not being able to meet your goals?

This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness.

~Dalai Lama

Dalai Lama has rightly put into words the true recipe for success. Cleanse your heart towards others & lead a happy life.

There’s so little time & so much to be done. Instead of breaking hearts & fooling around take time to make others, and most importantly yourself happy!

Quotes/Art

I was going through my phone to look for inspiration from my old poetry & quotes. (Try doing it if you run out of ideas for posts, it really works!)

I found some of the old art I doodled on my phone & a few quotes. I thought I’d share it with y’all 🙂

>(It says ‘Shattered’)

Thanks for reading!

Rape – An indelible blot upon society.

I feel agitated every time I watch the news. She’s disrespected in every possible way. Candles are lit once her eyes are devoid of light. In the spur of the moment the whole nation comes to know of her existence. I pray that this kind of fame befalls upon women no more.

After the deed is done myriad of posts are updated in the name of condolences & budding poets emerge. Words filled with sorrow & angst spread across cyberspace like a tsunami flooding the minds through heart-wrenching poetry.

As a writer I’ve done my bit too in order to erase chaos in my own way through words.

But times like these scare me. I can’t pin down the feeling that I’m not doing enough. No, it’s not my responsibility to save every woman from evil doers but it’s my worst nightmare. In times like these neither ink nor do candle marches suffice. While I sit here writing this under the cover of a peaceful night, darkness encompassing devious intentions engulf yet another life.

I can’t write about a prey falling victim to a ravenous predator over & over again. All the majestic names this country has bestowed upon her cease to exist as one word arises, ‘Rape’ – not just of her body but her soul, independence & spirit.

Give me hope to write & dignity to encapsulate my words. Rid me of my fear that lingers as names succeeding the phrase ‘#Justice For______” keep increasing day by day.

Before inks run out replacing blood, candles are distinguished for worse & dignity lost forever between hands that deign its worth, rekindle her stature by taking a just stand against immorality that has prevailed long enough.

Long enough.

-Nameera.

Solitude

It comes
In parts,
Drowing
Me wholly
Within its
Absence.

-Nameera.

Innocence

It was but a flame,
A tiny speck of dust.
But once untamed,
You ran out of luck.

It knew no control,
It’d perish for sure.
It wasn’t a mere stroll,
Against it you were lured.

It began with a revolt,
That dawns with age.
You were a thunderbolt,
Satiating youthful rage.

As years went by,
It left you unsatisfied.
Teaching lessons for life,
It was an emotion that died.

-Nameera.


Lessons remain, innocence fades away. Its end may never be in sight but we do feel the absence that lingers upon its exit.

Under the Crimson Moon

“So, why do you work here?” She hung her head & stared hard at the plate, with the burger sitting still upon it. He followed her gaze & realised that she hasn’t even touched her food yet. How long have we been talking, he wondered.

“I had no other option” she broke the silence in a metallic voice. Her sudden change of voice surprised him to some degree. He fell into deep thought, as was evident through his closely knit brows.

“Would you like to order something else, sir?” He looked at the face of a smiling waitress. Her eyes were too far apart, he noticed as was his wont. The brown hair lacked texture unlike her counterpart sitting right across him at the table. “No” he shook his head, “Are you going to eat it?” His eyes focused on the woman he had been talking to for about an hour. Her lips parted as though she was going to say something but not a word escaped her throat.

“Creep” the kind, average looking waitress said aloud. “Excuse me?” His puzzled expression didn’t answer much queries since the waitress had already dashed away from the two of them, taking frantic steps & disappearing behind the counter in no time. All this happened too fast for him to take into account how uncanny things were that night.

“Wow” he rolled his eyes feeling awkward about the inexplicable little encounter. “It’s okay, she’s always like that” her kind smile burned a hole in his heart. It lingered upon her sweet face for more than a minute & then turned into something horrible. The more attention he paid, the more he felt confronted by the plastered smile across her face. She stared in his eyes listlessly. He thought he saw her pupils expand, almost devour the white space around them. The smile she wore was getting devious each minute.

It wasn’t too late to notice the change in his surroundings but he didn’t. The creamy walls of the restaurant looked dirtier than they had upon his entrance. A pall of dust & hunger hung in the atmosphere, making it too hard for him to breathe.

“I should get going” he could sense an unusual fear & the need for some fresh air stirred within him. The lights began to dim. “So soon?” she tilted her head to the right in an unnatural position, mirroring inhuman ways. “I still haven’t had dinner yet!” She displayed her white set of teeth as her smile definitely looked wider this time, stretching from one cheek to the other. Placing her clenched fists upon the table, she let out a hiss. He held his breath & froze in his chair. A concourse of all things insane & wild, thirsty for blood mingled right before his eyes.

The woman rose swiftly & cackled with her mouth wide open showcasing saliva dripping down to her chin. Her sharp fangs were an accessory to that unholy smile. To add to all this, the lights began to flicker incessantly doubling the doze of horror he was to endure.

He inched back in his chair, his best move so far. “Are you ready for dinner, Jim?” She could smell fear all over him. His whole life eddied like a dark mist around his head as his eyes closed & he slowly fell into a deep sleep.

“Jimmy, boy wake up!” Was that gravel in his mouth? He could also taste a bit of grass. “He was too heavy for me to drag” he heard a voice that sounded unusually familiar. “You just had to turn him over & drag, sweetie” He heard his father speak. “Don’t call me that, you’re not my father!” The familiar voice retorted. “Alright, go get some water” he heard footsteps stomping away in a direction he couldn’t make out. “Ghost, fangs” the words he managed to utter sounded like an apocryphal story, too insensate to believe. His father leaned over him with a pleasant smile, though it seemed quite incongruous considering the situation. “Its okay, I’m here now” were the last words he heard before retiring in his black castle of disquietude.

The ceiling was unlike any he had seen. It wasn’t his bedroom, he knew that for sure. So, where was he?


I never imagined myself writing a Vampire fan fiction yet here I am shaterring all my previous notions. For some reason, I’ve always disliked fan fictions. I don’t even like reading them. But I suppose Carmilla & Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde along with one of my favorite horror movie ‘Crimson Peak’ was all it took to get down to writing this piece of fiction wholly inspired by some exceptional characters.

Thanks for reading!

Amorphous

She was almost free,
Her form turning hazy.
A permanent memory,
Slowly fed to normalcy.

She was almost there,
Residing in his head.
Yet now her secret lair,
Began to wither instead.

She was never confined,
With unpredictable ways.
And little did he realise,
That she had gone away.

-Nameera.


Sometimes we deliberately cling on to people who left us long ago through memories & reminiscents. The problem arises when they hamper our growth toward other spheres in life. Memories slowly fade but their impact lives long enough to strangle us while we live.