Skip to main content

Twenty-Five

They say twenty-five matters, 

25 is the age where you are asked

to be responsible, 

You are supposed to bring home food, 

It's an age where your uterus has to be fukcing good, 

It is an age where you have to be fair

And good as a nymph, 

It is when your wallet should have a five-figure sum. 

They say at twenty-five, 

You will be twenty-five times purer than ever, 

To breed and nurture, 

No dear not your dreams, but your children's. 

But that's not it. 

I SAY THAT IS NOT IT. 

It is an age where you realize, 

You no longer have the desire to live

the monotonous life, 

You no longer feel alive at a celebration, 

You find yourself as the perfect company, 

You don't care if you die today or tomorrow, 

You want to puke at people

who restrict you from doing things. 

You no longer want to be surrounded by people, 

And your skills are your only saviours. 

At 25, you no longer care if people love you or hate you,

you realize your mental health matters than physical, 

Your dreams have started to deceive you and

You no longer long for things you longed for. 

I say, at twenty-five, 

All you need is some peace of mind

and pills to sleep. 


A. C

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Returning Souvenirs

  You say you can only offer friendship for my love,  I say l don't want it.  I want love,  love in big forms,  love that fills every atom around me,  Love that challenges every equation.  I thought you are the one,  the one with whom they would define people.  I'm just fine to ask you to return everything,  Everything that I gave as souvenirs of my love,  Which you received as a friend.  Starting from my starings and nights waiting for your responses.  I turned to be someone I was not, for you,  I spent my time, analysing and making hypotheses on you.  So return my brain cells used for that,  the blood that rushed to my veins,  Every time I saw you.  I want my health and thoughts that I wasted for you,  The souvenirs of my love.  I have murdered my love for you,  One fine night,  I have buried the carcass of my love  In the gardens of hopelessly wandering ghosts.  The...

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...

Dear Gretta

  Dear Gretta,     Your songs are like a poem that was long forgotten, that gives a dejavu everytime I listen to it. It  reminds me of New York City where you felt alone, where you were ditched by Dave and where you found yourself through Dan. You were never ready to compromise, you  were fully conscious of what you were doing and never doubted your own instincts. Even when you felt a connection with Dan, you helped Violet to reconnect with him, bringing out the beautiful guitarist in her, which eventually got him back to his family. Yet you smiled for being the reason behind reuniting Dan with his family, you smiled even when you knew that this would leave you all alone again. You gave yourself truly into your songs that you could not tolerate the loss of its essence, the mere commercialization of it.  You breathed music, danced and walked with it. Even when you knew that those are fleeting moments, the moments in New York City where every song in you...