Amorem Walking and Poetry

I was feeling very unproductive and down today and I was instantly reminded of my hometown for some reason. A particular day came rushing to my memory- I distinctly remember feeling unproductive and down then too. So I got out of the house and went for a walk. And when I came back, I made a poem out of all that I saw. And after that, it was like the affliction in me had eased considerably. It was on that day that I came to realize how walking and poetry writing are two things that could build back my soul. Even though it is such an amateur poem, I'd like to share it here. Because there's this quote that goes- "You say 'amateur' as if it was a dirty word. 'Amateur' comes from the Latin word 'amare', which means to love. To do things for the love of it." So here's the poem.

The people scurry past

The urge to get home

The cars bustle through

The packed noisy street

I walk through the side

The air heavy with food

Evening snacks being served

Dosas and chais

I saunter by the grounds

Young boys kicking the ball

Everlasting screams and whistles

Sweaty and joyous as they get

I stroll through the garden

Roses and lilacs being watered

The gardener offers a kind smile

I do my best to return it

I pass by an oak tree

Old men gathered at its base

They play cards and they smoke

The crinkles near their eyes showing

I amble by the library

Peeking in through to find

Not more than three lonely ghosts

Sipping coffee as they please

I tread on and on and on

Bathing in the last of the sun rays

He will sink down soon

And the darkness will take over it all

And here I am, walking on and on

Like a mere haunted ghost

Waiting for the moon and the stars

To wash over my ache and my agony

And here I am, walking on and on

Unnoticed by many

Screaming and paining through

The last of the daylight that remain

It's sunset

It's nightfall

And I'm bleeding

Through it all.

But let me tell you one thing

Let me tell you what I see

Yes, there is this cruel ache in me

But I see nothing but sheer beauty.

Comments

The Significance of Jo March's Monologue in 'Little Women'

'Little Women', a classic novel by Louisa May Alcott was adapted into a movie under the direction of Greta Gerwig (one of my absolute favourite directors of all time) in the year 2019. It portrays the lives of four sisters- Jo, Meg, Beth, and Amy- navigating love, aspirations, and societal expectations during the Civil War era. The film beautifully captures their individual journeys and the evolving dynamics of sisterhood. Jo March, who is the second of the four March sisters, is the protagonist who aspires with every fibre in her to become a well-acclaimed writer. It's even more interesting how the character of Jo is actually based on Louisa May Alcott herself, making the story sort of a semi-autobiography. Played by Saoirse Ronan, Jo is portrayed as an extremely independent woman, challenging the gender roles and the restraints placed upon women in society. Even though the whole movie is something that strikes the very depths of our hearts, there is one particular monolo...

Lost in the Waves

Beaches have always been a favourite of mine. It's almost like the sea calls my name, beckoning me to embrace its folds. To throw myself into the waters and have no care in the world is something too special to me. Because when I'm neck-deep in there, I'm nothing. My weight against the force of the waves becomes irrelevant. And I'm not just speaking of the weight of my body but of my heart too. In fact, I think my heart is far more heavy than my body ever will be. After all, it is a museum of everything I have loved and lost and loved again. And the artefacts within it weigh down on me- it makes me slump my shoulders and drag my feet while I should be floating around with ease. It makes even the easiest tasks undoable. But the moment I step into the water, I'm free of it all. Maybe it is an inherent nature of mine- to dive into something that is ragingly unpredictable. But rage is so dear to me. Unpredictability is so dear to me. It's something I've grown up...

Academic Burn Out

I used to be someone who was at the top of her class. I've always had a rank above five till my ninth grade. It's not that I felt pressured to study that hard but people appreciated me best when I did. And I craved that appreciation and validation from my parents, teachers and relatives, even if it meant unending sleepless nights and constant stress. I wasn't particularly exceptional at any co-curricular activity or sports event. I was just in the middle of everything- not that poor but not that good either. Studying was the one thing that people accepted I was really good at. So I did everything to keep their beliefs intact. But in my tenth grade, academic burnout hit me and it hit me hard. I felt like I was literally draining myself too much. I lost the will to study. I barely passed my model exams. Tenth grade is believed to be a turning point in every single student's life- the phase where they're supposed to work the hardest. But I couldn't focus. I couldn...

Allow Ann to Babble, Please!

Search This Blog