My hairstylist.


I look at her beauty,

Not just simply her body:

I see the attitude on her lips,

A fullness in that pink;

The risk in her hair,

A dash of electric blue;

The bold on her eyes-

More than a look, really:

The daunting played by black coal.

I see through the facade now


I see her past-

Rotting away in a cage of misery,

Sickening in the mirage of beauty


How could she have allowed herself to live thus?

How could she have let situations kill her?


I see her beauty in that resolve

And for the hundredth time,

I appreciate it,

I beautify it,

I love it.
And I hope for more of it.


Female influencers.

Influence is an amazing thing. You can influence people to change their point of view, to take life-changing action steps – to do anything really. But that’s where the flaw lies. Grasping the reins of influence can teach you to free the animal you are impeding OR continue to pull his blinders tight. Put this together with female charms and it creates such a powerful bond of influence. And while I identify as a female influencer, I am disgraced by all those females who use their influence to use demeaning words and altogether shatter someone’s confidence.

I recently watched the third episode of TVF’s online show: Permanent Roommates. It featured a woman who was using her power as ‘the boss’ very wrongly. Softly ridiculing a dancer for having made a small mistake, she made me shudder there behind the screen. She made me feel like I was back in school, looking at my shoes for breaking a rule I never believed in. I waited patiently-after a few more conceited dialogues that made me sick-for the episode to take a turn for the better. And it did. Pheww. [The protagonist of the show put the woman in her place.]

After watching the video, I washed my face with cold water and looked in the mirror at the person I am.(sounds cliche, but it’s true) I recollected my abashed experiences with bad female influencers and a certain someone remained in my head for a long time.

The woman I remembered was the one who taught me that I’m can’t be on call with mumma for every decision I have to make. The day of my unforgettable bad experience with her, the woman had been walking with an air of superiority. The royal-blue auditorium (in her kingdom) was buzzing with college applicants. She asked me for my choice in college subjects. I was on call with my mom then so she mockingly asked me if I needed to be on call with my parents even for my choice of subjects at a could-be junior college. When I said “Just give me one second”, she said “I’m counting” and I cannot tell you how much that hurts now. It hurts me that in all of her small life, with all of her influence as a female, she thought most fit to use her two minutes to create a frightening college experience for someone. I stuttered a few subjects as was needed, asked what clearly seemed like ridiculously stupid questions, and walked out of that auditorium feeling defeated.

After two years of “blossoming”, as my mom puts it, at my (different) junior college, I do not feel defeated anymore. I’m not the victim of a situation anymore. And my reasoning goes as follows:

I strongly strongly believe that we’re all confused here. We’re confused about who we are, what we want from life, how we can achieve what we want and the list could continue till infinity. The “we” here ranges from the age of 1 till the end of life. Young or old, thin or fat, bold or meek, we’re all here trying to grasp this reality we’re placed in- the freedom and luxury of life. I believe that the least we could do in our journey of discovery, is not be an obstacle for the other lost souls that come our way. It takes courage and patience to be to be a good, powerful influencer. But in totality, that is the gratitude you pay for all those unnamed saviours who have helped make your journey a little easier.

For all those adults here who believe this post may not be for them-
Yes, after a certain point, our personalities are set, our temperaments are fixed. But was anything ever so strongly fixed that our minds couldn’t break it down for reconstruction? Think about it: maybe ‘growing up’ never ended.

Be a positive influence. ❤

Or else don’t call it ours


An off-mood,
Seriously, no dude,
No drama no tension
just ice-cream and attention.
But still i want to be alone,
Breasts hurting,
Blood between my legs
Is this worth it?
I asked the black liquid I held.
It’s a blessing, we can give birth
It’s a curse, we cannot be loved enough,
In this wholesome week-
Yes a week, not just a few days
As you may think and we may let you think, boys.
We dont let you know anything
But in my misery of gratitude
This ache, this endurance, its for both of our benefit
It’s not my child, nor yours.
It’s ours and ours it will be if you feel with me
Breathe with me
And endure suffering with me
Feel your back hurting
And those affected states going berserk
Your head pounding
but no, today’s an interview,
Today’s my Board paper,
Today’s her birthday
Or just simply,
Today’s my regular smiling day.
That’s why i said,
Didn’t you hear?

Feel with me
Breathe with me
And endure suffering with me

Or else, don’t call it ours.

Some don’t stress on it enough, some wonder why it must be uttered-our pain, and some scroll past posts-how will my ‘Like’ or ‘Share’ even matter; I’ll just act like I dont care. “Whisper” they say. I say, “scream”.

“Whisper” is a word of another century. Little one, you’re not a victim unless you make yourself one.