The Good Pain

It pricks and hurts, it bruises and aches. It makes me numb in places I never knew, it makes me cringe  and writh in pain. But I don't need a painkiller, because this is a good pain. The sweet drops of blood that fall from touching a rose, the loving scars that come from the pen with which you wrote. The aching heart that loves him for letting go, the now peaceful mind that is ready to glow. Can this be happiness in the form of pain? For I feel no bounds to it, yet it hurts. It hurts a lot, but I want this pain. It's the pain of moving on from pain. The pain from leaving behind the past. The pain of looking forward to a new life. The more I look forward, the more it hurts. But I welcome this pain like its my new elixir. I wish to stay in this pain forever and never let it die. No painkiller is going to help, for I want this pain. I truly want this pain to relish and devour me, to change me inside out and create a new being to survive in this world. 

The Tale of the Ancient Immortal

Going into a poetic frenzy is the best time of your life. Here's another poem, inspired by Walt Whitman's 'Voice of the rain'.

The tale of the ancient immortal 

I open my eyes and see,

A vast expanse of water around me. 

I'm one of the millions found in here, 

But I know not what to expect 

For me and my peers. 

I feel like I'm drifting, drifting towards a light.

Maybe this is the end of me, 

Maybe my life was just a second of

Seeing the blue skies. 

I weep and weep till I can no more, 

I give myself up to the mercy of nature. 

I must have died there, 

For I have no recollection of anything else whatsoever. 

But then, I didn't. 

I came back to life as I plummeted down to the ground, 

I came back to the world, to give life to the world. 

I came back as the rain. 

My journey is an endless one.

One day, in a mighty ocean, 

While another day, sitting on a window sill. 

One day, giving life to a small plant, 

Another day, in a field, sitting still. 

As long as this cycle shall continue,

I shall serve nature, as a selfless servant. 

As long as life shall continue, 

I shall raise the earth like a growing infant. 

The Internal War- Most random poem written yet

The internal war 

As day breaks, war begins.

Clash of swords and sparks from armours 

Tumult of warriors moving in to kill.

Blood is sprayed in directions of all

Onto the battlefield, cold and hard. 

Brown turns red, red turns crimson, 

Clumps of grass dripping with blood.

A battle that lasts for days but feels an eternity,

A battle with yourself that you are prepared for, 

Yet never foresee. 

Choices - A poem in light of recent events

Choices 

And the bullets wake me again, 

From my dreamless sleep. 

For years they've reached my ears,

But they were drowned by the screams. 

Blood is like a friend I meet everyday.

It glistens in the light, 

Almost happy to see me.

But why is it that I'm not so? 

Instead of the rifle, I want to hold a pen,

Instead of shedding blood, I want to spread my wings. 

But that choice, never rested with me, 

For my fate was sealed the day

I came into a world of such love for hate. 

Tomorrow will come when it is my turn

To hold the instrument of destruction. 

Refuse and I shall also be put to sleep, 

By the same sound that woke me up. 

Belle- Birth, status and slavery

I know, I know, I'm bad at keeping promises. Please don't throw squashed tomatoes yet. I vow to keep my promise this time. As of now, here's a review on a wonderful, inspiring and eye-opening movie based a singularly rare upbringing of a child.

In the year 1761 with the beginning of slavery, came a story of a girl born to a family but destined to be in another. With a black mother and a white father, she tussled between their differences. After her mother's death, her father, Captain Sir John Lindsay of the British Royal Navy, takes her to London announcing her as the sole heir to all his wealth after his death. After explaining the situation to his family in London, and after witnessing much protest from his uncle, William Murray, 1st Earl of Mansfield, it was decided that the girl would be named Dido Elizabeth Belle Lindsay and would stay in the Kenwood House. Dido had a companion as well. Along with her, William Murray was raising another niece of his, Lady Elizabeth Murray who's mother had died and father had remarried.

Together, through the blissful days of childhood, both Dido and Beth became the best of friends. But, there was one thing in the back of Dido's mind. Seeing so many paintings in the manor she understood that a black person was always beneath a white person, yet never had the courage to ask why she was different.

Days moved on and soon the two girls were stepping into the age of being courted. As guests came over to dine and see the two girls, Dido was always unwelcome to have dinner with her family and met them later after dinner. All her enthusiasm dies down when she realises that she too will be judged according to her colour and she won't have any say in the matter.

Time moves on and the plot emerges. Dido's father's death on a ship, suitors and others questioning the existence of a black female in a white aristocratic family and slavery shaken from its roots, the little girl who was taken from the slums to live a life she was born for, finally learns the truth. Colour over blood was the way of things. Does she accept herself as one of their own or does she succumb to her mother's half?

A moving tale set in one of the most controversial yet beautiful times of England, Belle was one movie I felt connected to. Her battle against herself and others regarding the colour of her skin was somewhere I've been. Being a South Indian, I'm kind of on the darker shade of colour. Coming to Delhi, where most people are even fairer than Snow White herself, it was difficult to accept that I will be different. One particular scene in the movie, where Dido is sitting in her room, staring at her reflection does something that hurts more than ever. The way she tries to rub off and claw away her skin just to be accepted in society was one of the saddest scenes of this movie. But, the beauty of the movie is in the transformation of Dido from a girl of the slums to a girl of the aristocracy, questioning every detail of her life and waiting for an answer. It's a history based movie, but I recommend it if you're in for a bit of heavy drama, love and tears.

Sudden realisation, this is my 80th review! It has been a long journey and every moment has been unbelievable. Thank you for going through all my writings and appreciating them. Most of all, thank you for your patience and I really am going to continue blogging for a while. Another big thank you to all those friends who keep reminding me that I'm a blogger and I should post at least one review every week. Here's to the next 80!