this is what heartbreak looks like

your lips on mine,
your sweater on my bed,
this is what heartbreak looks like;
and it is just like they said.
words never spoken,
messages never sent,
so, this is what heartbreak looks like;
with suffering to no end.
your pictures on my phone,
my lipstick stains on your shirt,
this is what heartbreak looks like;
and now i'm left eating dirt.
the empty beer bottles,
the quick cigarette breaks,
perhaps this is what heartbreak looks like;
when you've had everything you stand for at stake.
the long rides on your bike,
that tie i really liked,
this is what heartbreak looks like;
when you've taken me on this emotional hike.
stolen glances in the hallway,
secret rendezvous after hours,
this is what heartbreak looks like;
when we never even had much to call ours.
blown away by a storm so strong,
oceans apart and completely forlorn,
and this is what heartbreak looks like;
when i no longer have you to call my own.
you push me away like I'm a door,
a door to your next- your forevermore,
so this is what heartbreak looks like;
when you've loved from your very core.
those last few words,
were as though deliberately poisoned with hurt,
yes, this is what heartbreak looks like;
as i watch you go running right back to her.

v.k.

RAPE #2

A few days ago, my mother sent me a text saying that 'Pink' was a wonderful movie and that I should watch it. Now, if I'm being honest here, I didn't really give a damn at that time. I'm not too big on bollywood movies. But I then found out that Amitabh Bachchan is in it, so naturally, I felt inclined to watch it. And now that I have, I have a few words to say. The movie in itself failed to impress much: the cast was average and so was their performance (if not a bit too much), the courtroom and trial scenes were poorly thought out and I could point out about fifty loopholes right now. Amitabh's character was witty yet senile, and not a very good lawyer as far as I could tell. But that's just my opinion on something I am not fully educated about. That is not what I am here to talk about.
What I wish to talk about, is the concept. The concept that a guy can get away with raping a girl just because she's 'easy'.
This is India. Our men are manly and bearded and our women and holier than thou and dressed in saris.
India is moving forward in a way that I myself do not fully understand. Women drink, wear short dresses, date several men, homosexuality exists. But people hesitate to talk about it and accept it socially.
A girl is judged based on the length of her dresses, the size of her heels, her tolerance for alcohol and her list of ex boyfriends.
She is judged based on how often she goes out and how late she comes home, the boy-girl ratio within her friends circle and how she supposedly 'flirts' with all her male friends.
In today's day and age, where women work and live independent lives, it is impossible for a woman to survive without having certain relationships with certain members of the opposite sex. What's even more shocking, is that some women choose to be in the company of men without being romantically or sexually involved with them! Shocking, isn't it?
But what I learnt from watching this movie, is that it could happen to any of us.
I could go out with my friends tomorrow, and have a nice but strange boy offer to buy me and my friends drinks. Of course we would accept, because he seems polite and educated enough. Of course we all get a little tipsy. Of course him and his friends already have a plan in mind, an evil scheme.
But of course they don't see anything wrong with what they're doing, because me and my friends are all single girls partying on a Friday night, drinking and dancing and wearing short dresses and high heels.
Of course those boys have some friends in common with me, and of course these common friends have told the boys about my past relationships and several casual ones, too.
Of course the boy thinks, 'What's one more time to this whore?'
And of course I can't do anything about it, because at the end of the day, I'm the one that's begging for it. I'm the one that's gotten drunk, because I want them to take advantage of me when I'm vulnerable. I'm the one that's wearing the short dress, because I want to provoke them. I'm the one that's had multiple partners in the past, because that makes me public property and easy access to all men.
And at this point, I'm being raped, because I brought this on myself.
But no, it is not rape. It is just another name to add to my list. It does not matter that I did not give consent- once a whore, never more. Never a woman with free will, never a girl being violated, never a daughter being scarred for life, never a friend being stripped of her rights. Just a 'slut', getting what she deserves.

So, on behalf of every girl out there- whether she drinks or stays home, whether she has more guy friends than girls, whether she has had multiple boyfriends or she's a virgin- I want to say this: thank you. Thank you to the society and to the law, and to the men and the mentality in this country.
And I am sorry.
I am sorry, because it will always be my fault. 

cigarette

it’s 2 am, and it’s chilly out,

i sit in my living room with nothing to ponder about.

my cigarette is lit, 

and it’s killing me bit by bit.

your face flashes across my phone screen,

memories flash by like a tragic scene.

and i start to feel,

was it in my head, or was it real?

because you kissed me like you were saying goodbye,

were you telling the truth, or was it a lie?

i see you, still, but you aren’t there,

you aren’t in the clothes you used to wear.

the ghost of your being haunts me,

it’s been six months, and we still don’t meet.

everything i have, was one yours,

i gave you my everything, it was ours.

and then, the scene that played out,

was just as i feared.

because, just like the smoke from my cigarette,

you disappeared.

v.k.

coffee

and my coffee comforts me

like no other can

it holds me and settles me

gives company to my lonely hands.

my hands, the ones you never held,

my lips, those you never kissed.

the coffee that i drink to no end,

now touches everything you once missed.

you missed those late night conversations,

i now have with myself,

my coffee and i have been places,

i need it more than you can tell.

telling me stories i've never heard before,

my coffee does all the things you should have done,

it tells me i'm beautiful, i deserve more,

you see, my coffee and i, we are one.

it keeps me company at night,

we've been on so many adventures together,

it likes all the books i like,

my coffee makes me forget, makes me feel better.

i savor its taste on my lips, 

like i did yours,

i cherish the feel of the warm cup on my fingertips,

while you left me broken on all fours.

but i cannot stay awake for long,

unless i’ve had my coffee.

ever since you left me and did me wrong,

this caffeine is what i breathe.

the stuff of dreams, 

while i wake,

i stay alive

for my coffee’s sake.

it needs me, just as i need it,

you will never come 

and will never care even a bit,

at least my coffee makes me numb.

but my doctors say it isn’t healthy,

as if you were any better for my form,

they say i have developed issues of dependency,

but about you, i was never warned.

because, you see, my coffee, it will stay,

i know this for sure.

but you, as always, will run away,

leaving my dependency on you with no cures.

Anorexia

stares at her bright screen all night,

they've lost their way, she gives them advice.

"you have to eat, you need it"

"your body needs you to stay fit"

"do it for your mother, she loves you"

"you should eat if you love to"

she's saved many from a terrible fate,

but is filled with self-hatred

"look at my body, have i put on weight?"

"i can't have my next meal yet, i must wait"

she's beautiful, inside and out, 

but the only downside is, she's filled with doubts.

no one to tell her that she is perfect as she is,

how could she be so stupid as to not realize it.

but her thighs touch, and rub together when she walks,

she's always a little conscious of her double chin when she talks.

she skips meals almost everyday,

she's been starving herself so she can lose weight.

but her body is drained,

it is in pain.

"i want food, i need some"

"feed me now, don't be dumb"

"do you not love me enough?"

"i suppose it's time to give up"

but each body is beautiful,

thin or fat,

tall or short,

pale or dark.

you are not just your body.

you are not just what you eat.

you are so much more, and beyond that, too.

anorexia is bullshit.

the end.

Her Hair Was Blue, And So Was Her Mood

Tell me, where I should look,
In the notes of your music or the words in your books? 
Under the bed or on the window pane,
On the rooftop or somewhere down the lane?
In the memories or in the polaroid photos,
Tell me, in which part of our home,
Can I find you again- alive,
Fully well and alright?
Hazy, like pieces of a puzzle,
Without you, I can't get past this hurdle.
Ironic, isn't it, how I need your help,
To get over you not being there.
So I dyed my hair blue,
And pierced my lip, too.
Thinking if I change into someone new,
I'll find you again without much further ado.
How? Don't ask me why,
Why I thought of doing something so wild.
But I did, and now my hair as well as my mood,
Is always blue, always just looking for you.