April 2022

What Fascinates me about the Sea

What Fascinates me about the Sea​

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Look at the sea, from every direction it looks stupendous. Maybe that’s why I am fascinated by it. It’s the biggest thing I can think of, or is it the depth that attracts me? I think it’s those colours that mesmerise me. Or the waves which show up and leave, just to return to the shore. Maybe it’s that sand on the shore, those fine particles of time!

While sitting at the shore with sand in my hand, all I can feel is the softness of those grains leaving my fingers.

Inch by inch, 

bit by bit.

Grain by grain,

second by second; while I just sit there in all the stillness.

As if it tells me how we tend to lose time so quickly and swiftly.

Yes, it represents the life which has nothing else but quietness to itself, nothing but those hues of the sun which is about to set. Those hues sort of replicate the hues of the sea. Then I think it’s the depth around me that fascinate me. The depth of two oceans, one above and one in front. Both in the prime of their beauty, admiring each other. Changing their hues in contrast with the other. Just like a perfect romance. A clandestine one.

No one can even think that the things at two separate shores of the world can have such symphony. Both at the extreme ends but depths of both unknown. Maybe they meet at a place. Yes, there must be a point where the depths coincide.

Yet, the depths remain unknown. Do they have an end or the end lies at the beginning of the other? The sea that is so beautiful, who knows how many secretes it hides?

Then what about the waves, they come and leave and come back? Is it those waves that are the element of my fascination? Who tells them to come back? Who tells them to leave at the first place? Are they playing music which only the sea can listen to? 

Isn’t the sea just replicating the music of life where the waves come and go; while the sand leaves our hand and all we do is just be distracted by the hues of the oceans, both in front and above?  

You are a woman

You are a Woman

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You are not a woman who loves too much,

Nor the one who loves too little.

Nor the woman who loves too soon.

 

Remember, you are not a type,

Not someone to be created as a hype.

You are not a quote, 

 Not someone to be easily broke.

 

You are a woman,

Made up of sweat, blood and skin.

You are not a muse,

Certainly, not someone’s excuse.

 

You are not a trophy to be won,

Not even a loss to be mourned.

You are not made up of those adjectives.

 

You are not a place of solace,

You are not there to fill their empty space.

You are not a hurt,

Not even an assert.

 

You are a woman,

Made up of sweat, blood and skin.

You are not a muse,

Certainly, not someone’s excuse.

 

Remember, you are not a solution,

You are not even, a blame.

Nor are you a conclusion.

 

You are not the one they can own,  

Not the one who comes without a backbone.

You are not just someone they want to date,

Certainly not the one they can obligate.

 

You are a woman,

Made up of sweat, blood and skin.

You are not a muse,

Certainly, not someone’s excuse.

 

You are not an answer,

You are not even a question.

You are a woman, not a metaphor.

 

You are not a sage,

Not even an old adage.

You are not the one who needs to sacrifice,

Whoever you are, you suffice.

 

Yes.

 

You are a woman,

Made up of sweat, blood and skin.

You are not a muse,

Certainly, not someone’s excuse.

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