English literature student, madly in love with poetry, philosophy and Mr.Darcy

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  • aphroditenow 3d

    Too perfect to fathom

    They say,
    Be a perfect girl.
    So she doesn't choose
    But falls in love.
    They say,
    Be a perfect lady.
    So she gives up football
    And struggles with lipstick.
    They say,
    Be a perfect daughter.
    So she cannot refuse
    And marries whom her parents choose.
    They say,
    Be a perfect wife.
    So she irons husband's shirts
    And devotedly rears child.
    They say,
    Be a perfect homemaker.
    So she burns her poetry
    And saves household funds.
    They say,
    Be a perfect mother.
    So she prays for a son
    And teaches daughter decorum.
    She never chooses
    She is made perfect.
    She is too perfect to ever question:
    Why they don't allow tears for men.
    Why they don't let men feel
    But let them endure pain.
    Why they don't let men cook meal
    Or run domestic errands.
    Why salaries decide the maleness of a man.

    She is well adapted to perfection,
    Perfectly playing all her roles.
    So to her, it never occurs:
    What does perfection really mean?
    To abide by and to fit in?

  • aphroditenow 1w

    Forever and after that...

    I wore you like
    My mother wearing
    Her conchs and corals,
    Her brilliant vermilion,
    A love, so pure, imbued with faith.
    I wore you like
    A blank wall wearing fresh paints,
    Like a white wearing its red,
    A peace imbued with passion.

    Now I wear you like
    A rose tucked in my braid,
    Like a bindi adorning my forehead,
    Beautiful but withered on the next moment.
    I wish I could wear you
    Like the ocean wearing its nuanced blue,
    Like the sky wearing its moon,
    A serenity imbued with permanence.

  • aphroditenow 1w

    Reading children's classics in 20s is a whole new experience.... I have never enjoyed reading this much before..

    Read More

    Another passing thought....

    The exams we take, the certificates we get for passing those only decide the degree of our skills; the proper skills that are needed to make it through the work we will be paid for. In other words, these are what we make our living with. So these are important. But the problem arises when we confuse education with qualification. Education has nothing to do with making money. Education is not how we make our living but how we perceive our living, how we question what we are taught.

  • aphroditenow 2w

    Sunflower dies with every sunset.
    Does the sun know it?!!

  • aphroditenow 3w


    They say,
    "Take life for a huge flight of stairs.
    Take living for a strife to climb up.
    Be careful:
    You may stumble over a crooked step,
    You may fall.
    And that is alright.
    You should rise up
    And keep climbing high."

    I grew up listening to them,
    Until I learnt to question.
    Why take life for a pattern
    Of uphill and downhill,
    When you can take it for a journey?
    A journey by train,
    Mesmerizing indeed,
    Passing through lush meadows
    And barren fields.

    Bridges over rivers,
    Clattering of abrading metals,
    Red sun at horizons,
    The wires above quiver.
    Scenes keep fleeting,
    With several faces boarding.
    Everything is temporary.
    Still friends are necessary.
    The train runs forward.
    Every present becomes a past.
    Thousand feet step in.
    Only few can make mark.

    Your life is your life.
    A beautiful creation.
    And your train moves on
    Until it reaches its destination...

  • aphroditenow 3w


    I wish I could take care of all my emotional turmoil without help of medicines.
    I wish I would be able to make my parents smile and feel proud.
    I wish I could be the reason why at least one person would feel wanted.
    I wish my love would know how much I love him, how precious he is to me, how he stays around me all day.
    I wish I could be a home.

  • aphroditenow 3w

    Travel song

    Free birds,
    Sing the glory of nature.
    Feel the sun rays
    As you spread your wings,
    Fly through the mist,
    Over the green fields
    And to the hills.
    Free birds,
    Take care of your freedom.
    You know you have to return,
    To the struggle of
    Making peace with the fleeting time,
    To the struggle of
    Finding rainbows in the sky,
    Adding colors to the rusted life.

  • aphroditenow 3w

    Bona fide

    I call myself by a name.
    I am not the name.
    A sculpture instead,
    With vitality engraved.
    That time has carved.
    Time will break.
    But can never replace.

  • aphroditenow 5w

    Solace to a wretched beauty

    My city is strange
    With black and white,
    With truths and lies,
    With slums running out of water
    And parents running out of time.
    My city is dangerously beautiful
    With sweat and hot breaths on busy streets,
    With madding crowd and its glorious madness,
    With mysterious brown air and a sultry sky.
    My city is gorgeously dismal,
    Suffocating under decorums and traffic congestion.
    Men are always at work on dusty roads
    And protestors try visionary revolution.

    Still it rains in my city,
    It rains solace,
    It rains with valour and pride.
    Coffee fumes and raindrops on window panes
    Tell a never ending story
    And city lights glow bright.
    My city wears fresh jasmine
    Every time it rains at night.

  • aphroditenow 5w

    The line between desire and obsession is tenuous.
    Desires can give a concrete reason to live for. Desires can be a driving force in life. And that is good, that is how desires should work,that is what life should look like.
    But obsession is problematic. It is far more stubborn, more rigid and detrimental. It leads to madness.
    Sometimes desire becomes so overwhelming that it goes beyond a conscious, voluntary control. Problem stems from that moment when the tenuous line between desire and obsession breaks.
    And greed is more dangerous. It is more savage and leads to only destruction.
    Interestingly, the meaning of these three words are relative, each percieves them in their own way.