fledgling

Death. When fire is silenced to smoke. When raging storms is reduced to a breeze. When gushing waters hush to a trickle. When lips hold secrets, Time is cut off, And words are trapped forever. When the soul yearns to flourish, Yet crushed too soon. When the heart longs to throb Just once, Yet suppressed too soon. When beauty unfolds in one's eyes And withers in moments. When dreams, created with zeal Crumble in your eyes. When fruiful joy in warmth Shrivels in icy hatred. When the last shred of hope Weakens and tears apart. When the infant, in lost search Loses grasp of its motherly bond. The premature lily, softly folded in silence Wrinkled in fear and refusal Forever hidden in oblivion A moist clump of earth, Now a lifeless carcass. Death, Is a beautiful rest. The drowsy eyelids Snap shut, One last time. The fiery heat of the flames, Thawing and embracing Icy twilight. When the hands of the clock Melt and creep closer To the ...

What have we done? We call our dear country 'Bharat Mata', but what do we do to her own daughters? We all proudly boast of the footsteps India has taken towards the future, but have we forgotten our daughters? Is this country only for men? When it comes to our daughters, it has more or less remained all the same. Women are still looked upon as mere flesh-and-blood multiplier machines without a heart or soul of their own. They are the toys men crave, and like every toy, used and thrown. They are the toys they vent their desires in, shamelessly without the humanity of the human race. The women of our country are still forced to hide beneath a veil of fear and still hide behind their fathers and brothers.  So, what is it that you are trying to say? That this country is meant only for men? Despite several leaders of the past tying the broken shards of our nation together, we still haven't recognized our women. A girl is born. You feed her with fear and shame and t...

In the mystic realms of twilight Resting in the fragile lap of the water lily The sweeping breeze, heavy with scent Her fragrant white blossoms, Gently wrapped around her flowing locks Dewy and pious as her, like still water Flowing and swirling like the stars Flavoring the nightly breeze The smoky dusk, curled up like a child in her eyes Glistening moist in the soft moonlight Her crestfallen eyes a deluge Of rejection and shame Of delicious passion and hope To craft her own story Every drop, hushed behind the dark kohl lines A marriage of ink in melancholy The blushing sun, soaring in the tan sky Of fire and passion's thirst As she lies forlorn Melting in the dry, thirsty flames In the gloom of the nightly mist The strangled tears left uncried Like unborn words trapped in her lips Slowly groans and escapes her eyelids Her sorrowful droplets, stroking the tender daffodils Clinging onto the milky petals Pleading to protect the delicate slumber To ki...

I looked in the mirror My eyes, barren and lifeless The tears, strangled and tied for years A moist marriage of emotions My song, the one I have always wanted to listen The song of my own, my compass The one that clasped my hands When I was afraid of stepping ahead The one, a gentle hum in my heart That pointed towards home,  Painfully striving for birth To break the strong chains of my heart The strings of fear and doubt I now feel those locked tears Frozen in soulful, icy darkness Melt in heat and finally, touch sunshine Flowing without bounds in joy I now feel my warm blood Gushing in my veins joyously Alive, with life and meaning To chew and savour every moment And feel the sweetness of life on my tongue My eyes now glimmer in hope Of distant dreams and wonders Of meaning, my hopes, My wishes and wants That song of mine, lost far in the woods Once trampled, under the weight of my lips, Is now born in glory and pride, This time, loud and clear, ...

Chennai. A beautiful city with everything one could dream of. The lively city of the ocean, fish, the southern Chandini Chowk, semma music and the world-famous Madras baashai. How could I forget, the people of our soil, thumping their chests in the pride of the language that rolls and dances on their tongues with grace, my own language. Our chill December evenings, adorned beautifully by the cultured voices and the thump of the mridangams, along with a comforting aroma of freshly ground coffee and vadai. The nectarine sweetness of our 'zha' will always echo on our lips. Our flowing, delicate Kanchipuram drapes embrace every woman, accentuating the beauty of our Tamil damsels. This weekend, I got to take a stroll on the shores of Besant Nagar. I have always loved the waves and seaside breeze. I have always enjoyed the ruffle of the ocean breeze and the spray of the seawater. No matter how much luxury money can buy, nothing can beat the chidlike joy of wading in the waters...

Hello everyone! Today is quite a special day for me. I am finally leaving the first twelve years of my childhood behind and entering the exciting new phase of teenage. A time when you shed the skin of a child and explore the realms of adulthood. For me, turning thirteen hasn't made a big deal of difference on me. I still feel the same as I was and I don't feel any impact mentally at all. I have spent the past twelve years of my life living like a novice, and I don't quite understand the concept of teenage. Honestly, I don't know what to think of it and I just cannot conclude upon it at all. Perhaps its just that I'm currently clouded mentally, and I am not able to clear the confusion in my mind. All I know is that I might have improved and grown up as an individual but, I'm still a childish mess in my head with emotions spilling all over the place. Turning thirteen is a lot to take in. I feel this milestone is something that will add a little more ...

Hey there! I have some amazing news to share. Fledgling is turning two today! Time does seem to fly by. My humble beginning with Fledgling, exactly two years ago, just seems like yesterday. Not too long ago, I was a perky ten-year-old who just loved writing. Here I am, two years later, now something much more. A lot of miracles have crashed upon my life in these two years. In early 2018, I finally decided to let the world see my work. I was finally ready to push and tear my cocoon open to show the world my colourful wings. A year later, I wove some of my stories together and published my first book Solitude, something I will never forget. Months later, I started writing local articles for newspapers and magazines and later tried my hand at writing for anthologies. This journey has been so exciting and memorable. Every time I look back, I find beautiful memories I will always cherish, like the night I published my first post on Fledgling. That thrill and high I get from writi...