Cold

Imagine this: You find yourself awake on a cold, winter morn and decide to busy yourself by going on a walk instead of simply lying in bed for the rest of the morning. You step out of the warmth and familiarity of your home into the frigid street- barefooted, barely clothed with your hair carelessly cascading down your back in the tangled mess that it is. Your lips are pale and dry, your face is entirely make-up free and your shorts barely cover your thighs while the strap of your spaghetti top keeps falling off your shoulder with each step that you take. 

The pavement feels chilly against your feet as your cheeks flush, your body trying to keep itself warm as you shiver. Goosebumps make an appearance all over your arms and your unshaved legs, while your teeth chatter lightly.

You’re roaming the streets, all alone. The icy air pricks your body like a thousand needles all at once. It’s like lying down on freshly cut grass right after it’s been watered. 

At first, you try to warm yourself. You rub your palms together vigorously as if trying to light a fire warm enough to save you from this frigid weather. You run your hands along the skin of your arms to create some friction. All your survival instincts kick in as you realize that this isn’t what you need.

But the road is long, and never-ending. You turn back, but see only a thick veil of fog for as far as your vision permits. 

You’ve walked a long way, and now doubt you’ll be able to find your way home. 

So what do you do? You keep walking. 

Your feet start to feel a little numb from the cold. Are you even sure you can continue walking for much longer without stumbling and tripping over the ground? 

No. You are not certain of anything at this point.

There is no way back, and there is no way out.

And so, you start to embrace the cold. 

You figure- I can’t control the weather, but I can control how I react to it.

You try to stop your body from shivering and shaking. You place your foot firmly upon the ground come the next step.

You let your guard down.

You let the cold eat you up.

The cold is the thick mist that has swallowed you.

And instead of struggling to get out of it, you are going to allow it to annihilate you.

The cold has no way back, no way out.

You start to lose all feeling in your limbs, but you keep walking till you can’t feel anything at all.

And you aren’t sure of anything at all.

Until, finally, you miss a step, perhaps, and your entire body lurks forward in one quick movement as your face stridently comes in contact with the tarred road beneath you. 

You hear a faint crack, and aren’t sure if that was your nose or your chin. It could even be your arm or your fingers. 

But you just lay there, exposed, not able to feel a thing.

Not a thing but the cold, harsh wind.

And that is what it was like loving him.

Walking down a tedious, unremitting road laced with uncertainties of so much and yet so little, with nothing but his cold touch keeping me sane.

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.