To My Crush , Please Send the Right Signals

Smitten by you, I was ascending to heaven from hell,

I could not find any pill to cure my pounding heart,

My mind is cleaned with waters of your charms,

And I fell into something that I should not have.

Every time you spell my name, I'm taken to the land of passion again, after years.

Every time you say goodbye, I see our eyes locking,

Our pupils struggle with embarrassment from unspoken emotions.

Every time I catch you looking at me,

I feel stupid, and

Every time you talk to me, I do compare

it with others.

A trail of first things are happening with me

when I think of you, and

I get erased into the four-dimensional world of entanglement.

My feelings are opaque in your presence to force you to look at me,

But it becomes transparent in my loneliness,

And takes the form of full-time fledged smiles,

Hovering above my room with wings.

What have you done to me?

This cannot happen and I will not reveal my feelings,

Unless you give the right signal.

All the signals that I'm getting may be wrong,

Leading to wrong paths of thorns and pain,

Please send the right signals,

I'm on the verge of destruction,

Unable to form my reality.

The reality of impossibility, and

Of you turning into one of my unsent letters,

That was hurt by opening the cover.

I wonder if you know how I overthink and fantasize about you,

You and your signals may have wrongly read,

Please take them back,

Because I'm unable to confront you and get hurt,

I'm unable to stop stalking you and seeking your attention.

Please send the right signals nonchalantly,

I will keep them safe and sound.

To meet you at the corners or to sit lonely at the corners.

A. C

Comments

The Women of Rifle Club

Over the decades, Malayalam cinema has often used female characters to uphold male protagonists, reinforcing the power dynamics in favor of men. This pattern, normalized and celebrated as long as the hero “wins” the situation, has shaped narratives for years. However, in recent times, audiences have begun to unlearn this ingrained bias, recognizing it as something that needs to be critiqued rather than celebrated. Aashiq Abu’s Rifle Club breaks away from this mold, igniting the fiery tension of a wild war in the Western Ghats. What sets this film apart is its portrayal of women— each female character is uniquely strong and layered, claiming her identity with confidence. From being mocked for being “just a woman” to owning the scene, characterisations of women in Malayalam cinema are beginning to emerge as unstoppable forces. Society often perpetuates the stereotype that women, being emotional, are inherently weaker or less stable in grave situations. Instead, the movie shows that ...

I Let Myself Sink Into You

I let myself sink into you, Taking deep dips, Not letting myself float. You kept the rhythm of ocean Calm and said the waves To come another day. I got lost in the tranquility of your arms, Seeking an abode for eternity, Reaching out in bliss. Maybe If I could live here forever, I would dance at a different pace, guided by the warmth of your heart. I see no lines seperating us, Shutting down the little fragments of overthinking, I place you close to my bosom, Never to let you go. Making all the falsities disappear, I'm riveted by the hold of your hands, the sheer joy on your face At the movement of my eyelashes, Making me fall all over again. You asked me if you could join in my agony, If you could make me think of Things of joy, Checking my pulse and it's dramas, You dived deep into me, Untangling the mysterious cords, that encircled me....

One Pathetic Little Heart

Black and white photographs Hanging on the wall, behind me, Dance at the company Of sheer curtains. Fresh coffee rings on the table Cuddle with the lacquer crying for my attention. The chandelier wonder At the brightness of daylight, And my little heart Wonders at the lies I heard. I feel nauseous at how I Put up with all those lies. I'm just so tired of the notion of truth. what a pathetic little heart! What naivety and vulnerability has Consumed you. You made me think I own the autumn, That I can have him all for myself In my private abode. That spurious affection was Afterall nothing but a lie, And my foolish heart created fake scenarios, with every word of Autumn, who would give a peck on the neck, With a pat on the back. What a pathetic little heart! You never understood What seasons meant, You never realized they belong to each othe...

THE FORGOTTEN STORIES

Search This Blog