Skip to main content

The Ugly Duckling!



I was the ugly duckling you don't know.
I built my own shelter inside my shell.
I schemed it with hopes and dreams.
But never had I knew that the shell has to be broken,
Never had I tried.

At times I heard someone knocking at my shell.
Knock knock.
But I didn't mind open.
I kept on looking at my illuminated dreams and hopes.
I feared the collapse of them with the shell opening.
I sharpened my ears and listened to the voices outside.
I heard someone laughing at me , someone sympathising, yet another sobbing.
None minded to break my shell.
I was comfortable and cozy inside , I slept tight.
But they said I lacked something.
What was it? I didn't know.

Day by day the hopes and dreams increased.
I should find space to occupy some more.
At times I bullied myself.
And made my shell more strong.
I  longed to see the world outside,
But something prevented me
and the shell was still closed.
They called me ugly, coward, and many more names, my shell world was unaware of.
What if they do the same once I'm out?

I looked at the mirror like it was the first time.
Who is she? How come she is this pretty?
I ran my hands against my fragile skin.
I found it pretending to be something else.
I scanned my body and smiled.
To be one and pretending another.
The shell had to be broken,
Shattered and scattered into pieces.
No prince charming would have done it for me.
I had to broke it myself.

Once and for all I punched my shell.
There it laid shattered and scattered into pieces.
All my hopes and dreams tumbled down,
Easy enough for me to pick them.
I stepped on the new world with pride.
I spoke out and stood for myself and my dreams.
The new world is a better place,
damn the shell life.
No longer I'm an ugly duckling, I'm going to be the whizzkid.
I longed for the days and places I missed out, the people I missed to see.
I walked ahead to make it out , to feed my long lost hunger for the outside world.
Now I'm the pretty duckling who destroyed her ugly plume herself!
New world,  embrace me!
Here I come , to your heart, the pretty duckling!

A.C

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Grendels

Horror is lurking behind every moment of darkness, Seeming to be human, we cannot distinguish you from Grendel. We see no Beowulfs coming to rip off your arms that aid you well. When every closed door warns us, Every stare seems to map our bodies, Every vehicle appears to follow us, Every touch seems to warn us, You, cultured and well behaved, You are the light of the day, You are the Lord of the people, Who metamorphose into damned dangers  At the end of the day. Your venomous fangs go in search of  Prey, You wait in the darkness with twinkling eyes, Admiring the power of your hands, That can open up hearts, And show the uncultured your worth.  After every hunting, the sycophants who surround you, Kiss your hands and touch your feet. They wash your dirt and make your bed. They cure your sickness by gifting you scepters. Making you invisible, they uproot every Beowulfs to ensure your reign. Thus you flourish, never to die but to hunt and haunt. And behind your house, we s...

All I Want for Us is to Feel Again

  We were young girls Who used to play at the beach,  Hugging, we watched the sun drowning.  We danced till the candyman went home,  Our skirts swayed with the wind,  Cajoling us to stay a bit longer.  We never thought this picture would fade away.  I know this would never come back,  But I want to feel again.  I want to go back where my heart is.  All I want is to be free and feel again.  The colours and smell still linger with me,  I miss the happiness I felt,  The aches that watered me.  My skin misses the way it felt,  My hair misses the gentle kiss of the beach wind The bookstores and beach waters wait for us,  They send a thousand silent sirens to us,  When will we feel it again?  The recklessness of age,  the courage of freedom,  the music in our brains,  And the limbs that never stopped.  The yellow city lights Gladly kissing the fine roads,  absorbed our shadows,...

The Lost Daughter - An Ode to Motherhood and Flawed Mothers

 Mothers are always praised and glorified for the sacrifices that they make and are called supermoms, if they find a balance with their family and work life. Movies have always portrayed mothers as either sacrificial or supermoms. But do all the mothers choose the same road?  Maggie Gyllenhaal's 'The Lost Daughter' speaks for all the flawed unnatural mothers. People who become mothers at an early age, who feel traumatized by the whole new version of themselves, who live in fear of losing their original identity in the run for creating one for their children, who make choices selfishly regardless of their children's needs. Leda in the movie, in fear of losing her individuality in the love for her children, takes a decision to focus on her career. She finds it as an amazing experience and embraces everything that she desired, peeling off the perfect mother image that she is supposed to keep.  When women are considered to have innate motherness in them, people don't re...