Eternal Lullaby

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She hummed to me,
a faint lullaby
etched in a corner,
of my numb mind.

Her wrinkled hands,
caressed my scalp in pauses,
running her thick fingers
through my tangled hair.

I know this cradle song
since I started to utter words of my own,
and carefully listen to her sing
the story of the king,
who fights the monster alone.

I watch the white walls,
project me as the king,
battling my monsters
and return home in victory.

Suddenly her voice breaks.

She pauses, and I know why.

But again, she continues to sing,
this time on sadder notes.
Her fat lap and stout fingers,
give more comfort,
than the dull hospital ward,
and the foreign pillow.

My mother is beautiful,
in her grace and strength,
concealing her inner devastation.

I am not afraid to die,
for I spent my last breaths
in a place I call home.

My mother’s eternal lullaby.

Sukanya. ©

Real.

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Real as the purple bruises
Real as the vulnerable me
Find peace in the real you,
For being real sets you free.

 

Sukanya.

Raw

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Unknown Artist

 

 

 

Have you stayed raw lately
With your flesh still clinging to your soul
changing skins
For every excuse and rationalisation

Raw is denied, raw is abhorred
Raw is uncomplex, naked in all senses
From raw we escape
And raw we want to seek

And no, it’s not a necessity because
Sometimes you’ll pause and stare
For you’ll forget your real one
With all the masks you wore

You’ll often call the false one your own.

Until it will give an itch
And crawl up under your skin
Infect your heart
And murder your soul

You’ll realize you’re sick
Struck with a terminal disease
Life will become a nauseous ride
And plenty of time of endure

For I am raw.

 

 

Sukanya.

Work.

 

Alex Pillin.jpg
Artwork By Alex Pilin

 

The dark sheets are tangling,
and so is my spirit to keep myself awake
in the wee hours of the morning.

I have to work
and by work, I intend
lending my knowledge and substance
to thieves smiling in suits.

They call it called work.
The ultimatum of fifteen years
of dreaming with open eyes
of having the power to change.

I am being consciously robbed by society.
And my people are the accomplices
because of their worldly possessions
of talents and the ability to dream were snatched too

They want you to exchange
these treasured belongings of yours
like your gift of creating magic with sounds
or evoke feelings with mere words

for coloured paper with unmatched worth
they put a price tag on your ways of life
ask you to sell your worth

in replacement for attractive litter
calling commodities obligations of life.

You know, you know all.
Yet you prefer to blindfold your eyes
and enjoy the distress

Your real riches are validation
You celebrate sadness
Your value misery
And misery you chase to seek,
and recommend your loved ones too.

Like pills, society prescribes it
drugs themselves of ignorance.
My ancestors did it, and so will I.
I will go to work too.

 

 

Sukanya.
©reserved.

Vase.

I imagined myself as a solid vase,
having a set of true colours,
and the strength to contain
the secrets of the world.

But I am still a piece of clay,
gyrating in the hands of people
disguised as potters.

Each running a hand,
skilled or unskilled,
giving me a shape,
and a direction to incline.

Fingers are those which make me,
and break me.
Some pointing at me,
and some pointing away from me.

Unaware of my outcome,
and frightened by the potters,
I do as they say.

“Of course I cannot sculpt myself,
it’s foolish and daring.
I will rotate until
they are tired of playing.”

I contemplate.
I feel the joy of admiration,
and nightmares of crashing.

Can I be a vase?
Or is being a vase
the potter’s false dream?

 

 

Sukanya.

Wide Awake.

Ever felt the moment,
when your pseudo self dies,
and your conscience awakens.
When your minds opens wide,
collecting the present reality.

Forget the scheduled meeting,
forget the fight, the race,
forget the crippling inferiority,
and watch the world pass by.

You are a living being.
Savouring the grooving branches,
the bright stonepath,
the breeze teasing your hair,
whispering praises in your ears.

Nature indeed loves you.
She vowed to protect you
and nurture you to your best.

But her kids are now spoiled
with all that affection
they are greedy men and women
who can kill her for themselves.

One fine day,
just as the one you’re walking upon,
she would swallow us in her,
buried in her carcass.

And you realize,
there is much more than desires,
market and capitalism,
public image and rumors.

There is us, and nature,
the simple natural beings
who have a mission to breed earth
with love and positivity.

And here you are at last.
Mother was waiting for you
to get over the hangover.
You’re wide awake.

 

 

 

Sukanya.
©reserved.

 

A woman.

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“We All Fall Down” by Aykut Aydogdu

 

Her beauty lies within the petals,
Of her nasty talks,
Her constant nagging,
And her unaccountability for things.

Her beauty lies in
her diligent persistence,
her sincere affection
her calloused hands,
and her war with herself.

She smells like soap and scent
She smells like hardwork,
she tastes like lipstick
glazed with yeasted sweat.

Her swollen joints are painless,
her womb is numb.
Her bosom is a mere show,
to which her vulnerability succumb.

The baggage under her eyes
is heavier than her burden,
and deeper than
an ocean of sorrows.

Delve deep into them,
and you can swim inside
her vast mind, and her
endless presumptions.

She can never be a equal to man.
For man cannot compete
with this bizarre creature.
He will be left behind.
She is a senseless hag
for finding joy in sacrifices.

She is a woman.

 

Sukanya.
©reserved.

 

Treasure.

Crack me open,
like a piggy bank,
or an easter egg
like an excited child.

Crack me open,
and gold will pour
out of my soul.

Find the treasure buried,
right beneath the rubble,
of a war once happened
inside my head.

Shining, glistening,
shimmering in the mind,
in the form of sweet words
and good deeds.

And once you find it,
we’ll share it in half
because I helped you find it.
My treasure.

 

 

Sukanya.
©reserved.

How to make your life happening, without facebook.

Humans are social animals. We survive on food, and gossip. No wonder social media business is thriving on the success and increase in the number of subscribers each minute. But in this busy life, let our work suspend for a moment and simplify our lives. Our generation is the first one to have the commodity of internet. The introduction to the world wide web has made humans adapted to multitasking, and tending to forget their primary priorities. Connecting with people has become extremely facile and human relationships have become hollow.

Our brain is designed to perceive a certain amount of  information about people and things. Adapting to the scientifically advanced lifestyle takes a considerable amount of time and in the last 20 years the world has become unrecognizable. The invention of the first personal computer by Ed Roberts in 1975 foresaw a massive transformation in the lifestyle of the upcoming generation, which tablets and smartphones in the availability and affordability of the common man. Then arrives Facebook in 2004, which changes the game of social media. As of the first quarter of 2017, Facebook had 1.94 billion monthly active users. In the third quarter of 2012, the number of active Facebook users had surpassed 1 billion, making it the first social network ever to do so. Active users are those which have logged in to Facebook during the last 30 days. We all are a part of it.

I have an interesting activity in store for you. Log out from all social media websites one day and make a goal of not using any of it for exactly one week. One hour later you would start experiencing withdrawal symptoms. You would realize yourself logging into your social media account. Your muscle memory is cemented and you would crave to see what is happening in the interesting lives of your friends. I experienced the same in the first hours of my decision of not using any social media.

In a study by researchers at the University of Winchester, Canada, ten self-confessed Facebook “addicts” and ten prolific tweeters were asked to stop using their accounts for four weeks. Many quickly became isolated from friends and family and reported feeling “cut off from the world”. Excessive usage also causes affects the ability to keep schedules and the lack of sense of time. A severe addict would have anxiety, disturbances in sleep, blurred or strained vision and headaches within a week of being barred from social media usage.

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Illustrator: John Holocroft

Why is this happening? Why are we are becoming detached to sentiments and impatient to communicate? In communication, we desire favorable comments that appreciate our false sense of superiority and the measurement of our satisfaction comes from the number of ‘likes’ we get. It is a maze in which we consciously enter and want to remain for ever. Many refuse to come in face with the reality of their lives, and continue to polish their virtual personality rather than their real personality.

Post detachment, maintaining a healthy lifestyle is crucial. Boredom is a spin-off of procrastination and you can eliminate it by doing something else with your mind at the very moment that boredom strikes. I favor jounalling as it helps keep up with pending work and jotting down ideas. It is the key to an organized schedule. Spend quality time with your loved ones. Visit new places. Start a hobby, like baking or dancing. Go swimming or hiking. Donate clothes. Cultivate a green thumb. Volunteer. Meditate. Study. You would find an endless list of activities that would keep you eternally happy without the need to post it on Facebook. In my personal experience, I am less worried and anxious about my last updates on the social media. I input myself with limited and wanted information. It has made my life less complicated.

Sukanya Dev
©reserved.