Shriyandhaa's space

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Headaches

Things that give me a headache; The sun shining in my eyes, A place screaming with noise (like my classroom) A word without a good enough rhyme, Crying me eyes out for a long time. Having too much homework but no will to write, Not prepared for a test? Another level of fright Things that fix headaches; Writing about them.

Two Curves, One Line

It rains hard Flooding the streets below The skies cry and cry until Their tears stop to flow And as soon as they do, Beautiful sunshine Cast upon the flooded streets The sun burning, independently Without the clouds covering its lit face It's like the skies laughing at their tears. As the pavement burns with excessive heat, The skies close up again And shower us more And as quick as they closed, they open The sun gleaming again, above, so bright A bit too bright. Cry now, smile later Fight today, laugh at it tomorrow. That's exactly how it goes.

Little things

Just smile once And that could change someone's day. Lash out, once, And that could change the respect you earn. Be kind, gentle, once, And you will be treated better in the near or far Future. This may not be exactly what it is - But at the minimum, close (?) to the Butterfly effect Be the butterfly - the little things you do Will be the result of treat or threat. You may never know, you may think it's unremarkable or small But never underestimate the power of it all.

Overthinking

As the hours of the night tick away, Still awake, in my bed, I lay Thinking about the things I've said, Words spiralling around my head. I said "hi", was that enough? Or was that, perhaps, a bit too much? I hear a cricket chirp in the night And the cricket seemed to say I was right. And here I am, reimagining things How would they have been, if I'd said something else? And should I have said more or less? The sour taste of regret coats my mouth, As I regret just a "hi", not more not less. And I lay, awake still, but stiller, With a dissatisfied pout.

A View From The Terrace

As I slowly open the gate That creaks with delight My eyes are allowed to feast upon A beautiful sight. Rows of buildings, Huddled together Going on and on until It fades into forever. And the clothesline dancing To the pleasant breeze The clothes flapping In the wind with ease. The shirts wave their sleeves Flossing to the airy music The pants wiggle their legs The wind still mystic; The sun hides behind the clouds Casting a noteworthy glow And the wind, forever, Continues to flow. The buildings, however Remain erect But I know that they too, furtively Enjoy the effect. The sky, so high, Graceful, never-ending And me, still at the terrace, Standing there, dreaming.

Misunderstood Moments

Have you felt that feeling That feeling where You have a lot to say, A lot to explain, A lot to justify, A lot to argue over, And you do know how - But you don’t know how to? Or, what if, you did, But nobody cared, nobody Stopped to listen? You don’t know - To feel angry, or sad? Frustrated, or depressed? Annoyed, or overwhelmed? At that moment The moment of the flurry Of emotions You let it take over And end up doing something Stupid. Which Lands you on more trouble And at the end, You give up. See no purpose for everything, Want to run away, Into the dark void. But a few moments later, The same in you Awakes And gives you a better idea - Think clearly? And no matter how hard you try to, Your brain cannot function - Cannot process much more, And so it gives in To the sleep That engulfs it. And at the very end, when you Wake up, from your whimsies, It’s lost, in...

Behind The Mask

Behind the clouds Is the hidden sky, so far, Behind the plasters, A nasty scar, Behind the curtains, Are bright windows But behind a mask - It is not for show. Not until you tumble into the trap, Stay trapped there, in disguised gloom Without realising it - And then go deeper and deeper To discover what really looms. Then realisation strikes - How they behaved, how they feigned The hidden meaning behind every wave You've found it. And the rage, You try to stifle it with much courage, But instead, burn down the page, And whoops - that leads you to your cage. But in the end, the mask is gone - To reveal an atrocity, so from it begone Don't explain, on its own will it dawn - Upon others, just the way it did on you - Ignore their every scorn. Just wait for their mask to be openly torn.

A New Scent

As I open an unopened book, Waiting to be opened, To spill out a story I move forward to read its pages - But end up sniffing them first instead. Oh, the scent of untouched pages The feel of the smooth but rough surface Its colour - very white, but tinted in yellow And I continue to intake its beautiful aroma For a few minutes, letting it sink in Then I gaze dreamily at the pages The second Before I lose myself, partly, Dive deep into the world the pages house.

How I Feel About Sleep

A beautiful, wonderful feeling - After a long, exhausting day, Or even one that’s relaxed, Maybe even an average, Nothing can destroy that feeling You feel every night Every time You lie down on your bed Curl up under the blankets As your eyelids give away When your head sinks into the pillow. You uncoil, relax, close your eyes Take a deep breath And let yourself be pulled into an oblivion First of darkness, Then of scattered thoughts, Then of whimsies and fantasies and dreams Then of the sound of your father’s snores, Later the feel of your sister sleeping on top of you, Then your mother’s arm, softly tracing yours And at the end your parents’ voices, Calling for you Waking you up. This is how I feel when I let myself sleep - How do you feel?