Tell Me No More of Enchanted Days

Were you my friend?  Though I never knew you,  And we didn't enjoy Long walks or afternoon tea,  A glass of wine in each other's company.  We did not laugh together or cry.  You did not tell me that you loved dogs,  And I never even asked you why,  You looked so sad and lonely,  Who broke your heart,  And who picked up its pieces for you?  We never held hands to comfort each other,  And I don't even know your best friend's name,  The one who lives across the ocean,  The other one who left school when you were eight.  But I know your favourite colour,  It's the same as mine; so is your favourite food.  I know you overthink everything to ruin it, And how you never sleep soundly at night.  I know you want to help, but you just don't know how.  I know you secretly dance in your bedroom,  When no one's watching you. The books you read,  The words you type and delete, I'm sure  I would read them if you only shared them with me.  I see your child like eyes and

  It is inevitable, one might as well accept that one's face will change slowly over the years. I have started developing crow's feet, eye bags, hooded eyes, laugh lines and all the gifts of being a 44 year old woman. There are dark spots because of spending too much time in the harsh sun. There are brown marks, some from hot oil splashing on the face.  Red spots cover my body, white spots indicate places where melanin is reducing and dry skin possibly from lower estrogen now that peri-menopause is here.  My hair luckily is not grey, except for two strands. My father did not have greys till he was 65-70. I guess I'm lucky to inherit his hair and my mother's tight skin.  Ageism and everything related to it has been on my mind lately. It started with a meme of Madonna going around, being equated to a monster at the Grammy Awards. Now Madonna has gotten a lot of work done on her face, which has not worked out very well for her.  People shamed her for not acting her age. Ma

  "Look, I told you he's not interested in you. Why can't you just take a hint?" "Ahh! And what makes you such an expert? " "I'm a man! Men know what men want, okay? You women need to start using your brains for a change. What is this whining and sentimental merry-go-rounding? Ohh, he looked at me, ohh, he said I was kind... Balls! " "Yeah, because not all men are like you. And if you think you can lavish me with sexist insults and I will sit there and listen to your advice with rapt conviction, there too you are wrong. I have more brains than you... " "And that's why you are my friend, my dear. That's why we have been friends for so many years. Haven't I guided you all along? Remember in 2005 when you fell in love with that guy from your office and he was acting like a total dick, wasn't I the one who told you to treat him like trash? Didn't it work? " "FYI, I never did that. And secondly, nothing w

  "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. " "Why do you hate me? " "Because you are a liar. It is not possible that you could not be feeling my pain. It is not possible that I imagined all of this. " "What do you want me to say? What will make you feel better? " "Say that you love me. Just admit it. " "I can't. You know I can't. " "Then fuck off from here. Never come back here again. Get the hell outta my life. And if you can't, just kill me. It would be better to die than to keep feeling like this. " "Go where? We are on a staircase. We both live here. I will stay in my house and never come out here. That way you can forget about me. " "What about my head? Where you have been living rent free for so many years? What do i do about that? " "Evict me. You are the landlord. You can choose to banish me forever. " "So easy for you to say that, you heartless asshole! You think I

Love for me,  Is like this perfume.  I wear it on special days,  Hoping someone says,  You are unique, so mesmerizing,  I love the very fragrance of you.  Some days are dark, swirly blues,  Gruesome greens and placid blacks.  Those are the days I turn to Love,  I search for it in butterflies and leaves,  Tiny wildflowers on the side of the road,  Forgotten and unnoticed; I touch them With sunburnt hands; saying I see you,  I know you are special even if no one does And that way, Love flows from me,  Into the earth and from its dug up corners,  It is then returned back to me.  Sometimes I can smell nothing,  Days pass by, numb and unfeeling,  I begin to doubt in Love, curse it,  Everyone's really so selfish and mean.  But then my children touch my face,  Hold me by the waist, laughing gleefully,  I try to pick them up, their eyes the same as me.  Again, the gentle winds begin to blow,  The tired summer curtains float upwards,  Ecstatic strides made towards open windows.  I'm som

I took a step back and with my gaze averted downwards, decided to apologize.  "I'm sorry. I did not mean to do that. " I knew she was taken aback. I was clueless as to what had transpired between us. One minute, we were laughing and swaying to the reggae music at the beachside bar, and the next minute, I had grabbed her by the waist and kissed her.  Her face was flushed. Maybe it was the evening sun and the sea air. Maybe it was because she was dancing with her long hair open. Or maybe it was the fact that this was not supposed to happen at all.  "It's okay, Tee. It's okay, these things happen. " She patted my shoulder as if she was handing out a consolation prize.  I stuttered. "No, no, let me apologize. It was uncalled for. We are friends, almost like siblings. I shouldn't have done that. I violated your space. I behaved like the men we bitch about, the ones who can't even ask for consent. I'm so sorry. ' She took my hand and we sa

Falling right into my head,  Picking up the pieces there,  Finding all the shards I hid,  Till I cut and bleed again.  Tell me why it's often said,  We fall from grace when we expect,  We rise again when we forgive,  When we walk away, holding it in.  Nothing hurts, nothing gives,  When time stands so quietly still,  Like watching everything move In nothing but blurred reflections.  I look again for something real,  Remembering then it's better this way,  It's better to not know than break,  It's better that I forget those names.  But then bright lights hit my eyes,  In a moment I see it so clear,  I see all the truths and lies,  Sharp shooter pains that make me cry.  The wound is closed, the scar unseen,  But deep inside I still believe,  I still believe what I saw was real,  When I watched it in the reflection.  In the reflection, I saw the smiles,  The burning fires, the sparkling eyes.  When I turned around it disappeared.  In the real world, there was nothing there