Skip to main content

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. 

Breaking the rules and tripping over

the cords, 

You moved fearlessly and hopefully,

Creating a new space, 

For the waves to move peacefully, 

Guided by the light that you hold

Again I let myself sink into you. 


A. C

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I HAVE TO BE A STRONG LADY...

I have to be a strong lady.. I have to be a strong lady.. To overcome all the obstacles.. To fight against my lost love.. To fight against my fears.. To overcome my insecurities.. To stand for my love.. To stand for my strengths.. To  fullfill my dreams.. To  complete my bucket list.. To stand for my people.. To hold my head high up... To stand in my own feet.. To pen my own words.. To shop with my own money.. To help the needy.. I have to be a strong lady.. I have to be .. To survive.. To protest.. To protect my rights.. To walk at nights without fear.. To be drenched in the rain.. To overcome my frustrations.. To fight against the norms of the society.. To speak out my own words.. To sing loudly .. To dance freely .. To teach my conclusions.. To establish my own ideas.. To face the greatest threats.. I  have to be strong... Here I go with my shield of confidence, to bring back the hiding lights. And they call me a strong la...

Revising Utharam: The Weight of Forgotten Truths

I think more than ghost stories, most people are afraid of the unknown. The  unknown when transforms into a more fearful truth can devastate a person’s entire existence. V.K Pavithran’s  1989 movie Utharam is based on Daphne Du Maurier’s short story “No Motive”. It follows Balu’s quest to uncover the truth behind the mysterious and unexpected suicide of Leena, his best friend Mathew’s wife and someone he considers family.  Balu’s investigative skills as a journalist lead him to some strange and unexpected revelations about Leena’s past. He discovers that Leena had a completely different personality and a  shocking, forgotten history. Despite being a generous person and loving wife of Mathew, Leena lived a seemingly perfect life, content and unaware of her repressed memories. Her life as a poet and a loving partner to Mathew appeared nothing short of perfection. Yet one fine day she decided to take her life in the spur of the moment.  Unlike most mystery movies ...

Of mothers, sarees and their grief

Mothers are often presented as the epitome of love in movies. The struggles, sacrifices and the quiet tiredness they carry are praised, even placed on a pedestal. But we rarely talk about their grief, the grief of unlived lives. Have you ever thought about the lives of these mothers before marriage and motherhood? Before all the giving began? So often, clad in their sarees, mothers cook and smile, clean and laugh. But is that all they ever wanted? Do they carry the weight of the shadows of their unlived lives? Many do, though they may never say it aloud. And they leave it behind for the happiness of the ones they love. I often feel that when they wipe sweat from their brows with the edge of their sarees, they catch the glimpse of their hidden grief. The loneliness and the neglect they receive, they tuck it away, fold it into the pleats of their sarees and smile again. Some may have once wanted to be doctors, teachers, dancers, writers, travellers. And even in their happiest moments, th...