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How Self Deprecating Thoughts Shape You into a Shell

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When I look around myself, I see everybody moving, working, accomplishing things. Someone is studying, some are working on their assignments, a few are working hard to earn, some are travelling, others are photographing, many are baking, writing, publishing books, leading a group, speaking in the public! Everyone has done and is doing things. And while I am looking in all my directions, I see not even a single person who is sitting idle. I forgot to tell you that I did not look at myself lately, which is why I could not find anyone idle. Not carefree, but idle. No work, yet stressed. No worry, yet depressed. Many friends, yet lonely. Just the basic woman-on-period stuff, you see. But I am talking about doing something. Motivational speeches, soulful writings, poems, sumptuous food, experiments, inventions, art, architecture... Everyone is into one field or another and yielding decent money. Whereas, I, despite being a woman of man
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How to Stop yourself from Staring

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"Oh My God, look at that girl. Her nose is larger than my fist." That was what my friend said when we happened to see a girl on our way to college today. Instinctively, I followed my friend's finger and saw a pre-pubertal child who stood by the entrance of a shopping complex. She had grotesque muscle in place of the nose; the flesh slumped down so much that it covered her upper lip. Eyes smaller than the standard size were pushed sidewards by the growing tissues of her nose. I wondered where her nostrils were, for I couldn't see how she was breathing. It was after I obtained these details that it hit me that I was staring at that little girl.   I looked away, ashamed. It's human nature to stare at anything that looks abnormal to us. And if it's a person with facial disfigurement, we don't just stop there staring. We'll fling our mouth open, make an insensitive comment or nudge a friend to share the comfort we are reeling from making
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Sadness: A loyal companion

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Sadness. A constant companion. Loyal and honest. Sadness. The constant feeling of ‘never enough.’ A continuous reminder of ‘Not worthy’. An incessant memory filled with mournfulness. Tears want to break free of your eyes but cannot. Because you have put on a facade of being and staying strong. You want to be in control of your feelings, but the emotions are not letting you mentor them. Sadness. Sadness drags you in the lousiest phase of your life where you see yourself as a despondent, failing and unworthy person. You see yourself as incompetence walking under the shadows of those who you believe are better. You believe that you would never grow beyond your failure. You trust that you are done trying. You see things slipping out of your hands. You watch people letting you go. You look at the stars and search for light in them. You stare in the empty void with nothing to look at, nothing to look for. You see deep outside and not a s
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Fantasy of a Married Woman

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I have heard people talk about their sexual fantasies. Some want ‘two chicks at the same time’, some want ‘two dicks at the same time’, and some want none of it amidst a WIDE LONG range of sex toys! Some like BDSM, some like romantic lovemaking; some want it harsh, painful and abusive while some want a sweet, cuddly and beautiful.  I have heard people talk about their love for objects. Some want cars like Bugatti, Maserati, Bentley, Aston Martin Ridge in their porch. Some fantasise about Dior, Gucci, Louis Vuitton in their closets. Some wish to live underwater, some dream to live above everyone! Some like to be superior to others, some like fending off the others’ leftovers. Well. My biggest fantasy (for now) is a week off. Of what? Let me tell! Kids, Mother-in-law, husband, and the colony of super active, pretentious, overachieving OLD aunties! And amidst what? FOOD! I want a week off of my married life and live alone and eat whatever the hell I can! Actually, ma
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My Failure Story; No Success Intended

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It's been 11 months, and nine days and success has ignored me like a lendee neglects the lender after borrowing the money. January 9, 2018: I remember waking up at 6:30 A.M. to the sound of my alarm clock, blindly reaching the snooze button, and mumbling to no-one in particular, 'I'm wide awake. I'll get out of my blanket really soon, and rock this day like the sun has dawned upon the city only for me. I just need five more minutes to refresh my mind.' Of course, I got up. Only this time, the clock read 10:30 A.M. Of the twelve resolutions which I had picked on the new year eve; one was about waking up early in the morning. I was very confident about the new life I was going to live; productive and prolific. Like a fairy-tale, everything was perfect and programmed in my mind. I had pictured myself sitting by my writing desk, words tuning out of my mind, and my fingers dancing to its rhythm as I jot down the best story ever. Unfortunately, my subconsci
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Because you don't need Make-Up to Cover-Up!

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I saw her today; like I do every day. To my utter surprise, she seemed content. She had an unusual glow on her face, a smile which had a romantic story hidden to its depth, and a glint in her eyes which spoke of both apprehension and passion. These days, she keeps her blonde hair open, applies kohl in her eyes, wears her lipstick, and fancies looking at herself in the mirror at least seventeen times a day. She has started using the bentonite clay mask over her face, putting a layer each of foundation, primer, the BB Cream, and the bronzer before stepping out of the house and applying the rose water before going to bed. She has bought three slim-fit jeggings, got four of her tops tailored, so they accentuate her feminine form even more, and she has stolen my favourite perfume bottle from my cupboard. The little bulge of her belly, the flabby thighs, upper-lip hair, and the acne marks on her forehead-she has grown conscious to all the traits that carry with them a formidable
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The Trauma A Long Distance Gives

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The sound of loud honking was deafening my ears, but I did not want to close the window. That was the only source of ventilation in this goddamn room, after all. I had tried almost everything to drown the inner turmoil, but it just won’t budge. I was cursing myself for choosing this time of the month to visit my parents, but there was barely anything I could do. I did what I had to, but I guess meeting her was not in my fates, not for now or ever. She was getting used to my absence, no matter how vehemently she claimed otherwise. I know she loved me, but it was not just the same. We had grown apart. Not in the physical, practical distant way (ours was already a long distance) but in the emotional sort of way where she would not stop me from going. I have never been the one to stop anyone. As people say about me, I was the one to let it stay unfixed and to just walk away, with no questions asked and no answers sought. But with her, things had been different initially. When
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