#personalfavwrites

135 posts
  • krishnega 8w

    But my mother said, failure builds you up in ways success cannot.

    ©krishnega

  • krishnega 31w

    The only stories that live through are the ones that are whispered to the flowers, sung to the wind and howled to the night sky.


    -Krishnega

  • krishnega 32w

    The spring comes but once,
    to remind us that,
    knowing we will bloom
    is more important than
    blooming per se.

    -Krish

  • krishnega 32w

    If you think something is great, strive for it. Work until you become that greatness. When your mind looks up to something, that’s because you secretly want it.


    -Krish

  • krishnega 33w

    Because we weren’t rich
    We have evolved to dream.

    -Krish

  • krishnega 34w

    .

    Like all rivers, life and spring
    Love too when it ends
    will find it’s way back again.

    -Krishnega







    .

  • krishnega 37w

    Do you ever feel like you will never be loved the way you deserve? Sometimes, I wonder what it means to be deserving, most are not good at math anyways.

    Do you think universe is an alchemist who knows and bestows? Sometimes, I think that this universe is simply a messed up child, trying to make sense of itself, and we humans are process.

    -Krish

  • krishnega 38w

    We were the secrets that the stars kept from the sky. - Krishnega
    #personalfavwrites

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    The world is trying to make a story of your life from the pages they know. But, I am one of the characters that came and left in the missing pages. Only you and I know, what we had and how we felt.



    ©krishnega

  • krishnega 39w

    There is magic in this universe waiting to come alive at your call.

    -Krish

  • krishnega 39w

    She was made of
    unsaid stories and forlorn stars.
    Her eyes carried the heaviness
    of a strangled universe.

    -Krish








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  • krishnega 42w

    Inspired from the latest post of @raika_
    #personalfavwrites

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    It’s 02:00 Am. You’re in your room, locked behind closed doors and windows, writing about the freedom and the feeling of the cold breeze hitting your face. You imprison a deep breath in your lungs and hold it as long as you can. And when you can no more, you let it go, and with it, a bit of heaviness and emptiness leaves your body, only to fill your lungs with the next breath.

    -Krish

  • krishnega 44w

    I just desperately feel the want to be more heard, on the nights I have nothing worthy to say.

  • krishnega 44w

    #personalfavwrites #krishlife
    “It’s just a cruel existence like there’s no point hoping at all.”

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    It just doesn’t go away. Even after good nights sleep, even after a fulfilling meal, even after hearty laughters, crazy meet-ups and karaoke nights, it just doesn’t go away. This piece of reality, some unnamed feeling that makes me unreasonably indifferent to happiness. It just doesn’t fade or swoon. It’s just in here all the time, and I wonder if this is how I’ll life for the rest of my life.


    -Krish

  • krishnega 45w

    #personalfavwrites #cees_cw_chall
    #krishwn

    I sat to write something for Carolyn’s challenge and this happened.

    -shall be continued

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    .

    I go dark into the night,
    The sky is moonless starlit
    There’s nothing on my mind;
    There’s no one calling my name.

    I go dark into the night,
    The voice is loud and deafening
    There are doubts and fears
    There’s darkness haunting the light.

    I go dark into the night
    The familiar faces smiling bright
    There’s hope holding my hand
    The table is served with gratitude

    I go dark into the night
    There’s rain pouring out the pain
    There are tears flowing into the sea
    The stories are melancholy and true.

    I go dark into the night
    With a youthful heart, running wild
    There’s reckless dancing and love
    The music is very merry and loud.

    I go dark into the night
    Excited and high on adrenaline
    I tap on the jasmine and tuberose
    And kiss all the howling wolves

    I go dark into the night
    Normal and refreshing as
    The aching body falls asleep
    Fulfilling the days work, I rest.

    I go dark into the night
    Of what-ifs and could-have-beens
    Waiting on the monsters ‘neath my bed
    To exorcise my thoughts.

    I go dark into the night
    Appalled by the blurred details of
    The proteins, structures and biology
    Flabbergasted by the complexity of existence.

    I go dark into the night
    With half written poems
    And unspoken truths of love
    Troubled and restless, tossing on the bed.

    I go dark into the night,
    Counting stars and telling tales
    Smiling at the vacant space
    As memories flood my brain.


    I go dark into the night.


    -Krish

  • krishnega 45w

    The saw a shooting star in my darkest night. A meteor that fell across my sky. It was there one moment and was gone in the same light. No one saw it. I have no proof. It’s my secret. A miracle, I can’t prove and the truth you can’t defy.

    -Krish

  • krishnega 46w

    Sometimes, you know it’s going to take a lifetime of struggle and growth to defy one whisper of doubt. But darling trust me, that’s how you will know you have lived it well.

    -Krish

  • krishnega 46w

    ;

    Our generation is mostly of people with broken childhood. We had older cousins and neighbours whose standards we were always expected to meet. And somehow, people turned a blind eye to THE PROCESS, THE STRUGGLE and the toll it takes to meet The Standards. We had to be successful to feel loved. We had to settle to feel worthy. The burden was just too much.

    But now that we have reached where we want to be, where they wanted us to be, we know how much of pain and growth it took us to get where we are. Our standards cannot be the reason someone feels insecure.

    We are people of all ages here at Mirakee. Some of us are looking up to some people who we think have perfect lives. Some of us have people looking up to us. And we all are somewhere, somehow consumed by doubts and insecurities despite how good we do with our lives. And I think it’s important for us to tell each other that it’s absolutely okay to feel the negative emotions we are feeling.

    Some of us have completely healed to voice out our insecurities; some of us are still in the storm, but we see the light, we understand and though we can’t speak loud our insecurities, we want to tell others that they’ll be fine.

    So can we do our little part, by being transparent about our insecurities? Can we just take off the facade once? I genuinely believe that the person we are on Mirakee, is the person we truly are. This identity is what we chose for ourself. This is who we’d be, if we had it our way. So, can we normalise our anxiety and insecurities, as much as we normalise love, pain and loneliness. Can we write and speak about it without being branded as an attention seeker or a drama queen ? And if someone is an attention seeker or drama queen, can we try to love them through it all, because it’s their way of feeling special around us.

    Can we just reassure each other? Because, all that I’ve wanted to hear in the last few months was, “it’s okay to have doubts and insecurities; they don’t mean you are unworthy, they just mean you are human.”

    -Krish

  • krishnega 46w

    Sometimes, I wonder why we were so insecure as a child. Now that I think of it, Grades, Physical appearance, relationship status nor financial status is worth peace of mind so why were we insecure? .

    “We’ll be a fine line.” -H

    #itsokaytonotbeokay
    #insecurities_insecurities
    #personalfavwrites
    #krishwn

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    Dearest Rumi
    .


    People would never think you’d lack something. Your perfect Instagram feed would be anyone’s envy. So, I wonder. As you are slowly beginning to speak your story, what exactly does this world owe you. What would you be lacking. What are you hurting over.

    I thought you were happy. I thought your life was all colours and flowers. We met when I had joined our school, seventh grade - June 2008. Didn’t like you much then, didn’t really care, I was a boarder. The first time we had anything to do with each other was that exam hall scene. You cheat. You took my answer sheets without my consent in the middle of the exams. We could’ve both been caught. I hated you. You could’ve been bossy and I, a nerd. You were bossy, desperate and you always had the spotlight. I thought you were a spoiled kid. We were two different people, who would’ve avoided each other at all costs.

    Were we strangers now, we’d best try to stay away from each other. But then later, when we got close, I’d admired you, I must say. I admire you today. I may not know your everything, but I’ve seen your bare face, blackheads and your undone hair. I remember how you hated it when I scored more than you in Math, and I knew it was much much worse for you to know that Aathira scored more than you in English. But now, it doesn’t even matter. Just look where life has stranded us on. I’m into Biology, you in Physics and we have all found a place, a chase. Life is so uncertain and so much beautiful.

    Lately, you told me you weren’t happy. I’m not happy everyday either. But, you told me, you weren’t even a happy child and it bothered me a lot, it broke my heart. I was terrified. We were teen friends. And when I think of you, you seem happy in all my memories. You weren’t the prettiest girl, but you smiled. And you smiled with so much confidence, despite the gap between your teeth. You had a wild childhood. You were a great Dancer and a performer; you were in the band and in the football team. There probably wasn’t anyone in school who didn’t know your name, God, you were everything anyone would strive to be. Why were you hurting. Why weren’t you saying anything. What was the world doing?

    Recently, I saw your old pictures. And I wondered if you’d ever see them, and what you’d think when you see them? You probably remember how you felt. But Rumi, do you know, I wasn’t a happy child. I think of my teenage, and I don’t have anything to say. I was always insecure, always doubtful and always scared. I still am. I don’t feel confident in myself. This fear drives me. It’s the reason, I try to do better everyday. And a little success, they call me bossy and dominant. So, I try to be kind and gentle but they still think it’s fake. It’s hard for me, Rumi. It’s hard. There is so much going on, that it’s hard for me to comprehend at the moment. I haven’t figured it out myself. But sometimes, I yearn to feel more loved, cherished, accepted and understood.

    Is it just us, or is everyone else having a difficult time too? Do you think we’d have had a happy childhood if they had told us, it’s okay to feel insecure and doubtful, that we were still precious and beautiful. I don’t know babe, but our present is messed up because the past is unfinished. It’s a heavy load, don’t you think. We’re evolving. Slowly. Maybe, someday in the future, we’ll meet our unloved past-self and make peace with her. It may not be easy, we may not get there overnight. What’s the need to hurry? This healing, this growth is beautiful. And we will understand that we had been perfect all long, but naively hurting over nobody’s fault.

    -Krish | 14 Jan | 02:00 am moments

  • krishnega 47w

    /10:25 Am/ 09 Jan 2021

    I’m in my favourite dress
    Fingers crossed, I’m awaiting a good news.
    The excitement of high probability churns my tummy
    But with passing time, enthusiasm fades;
    Doubts and fears creep in slow
    This might be my last chance
    And there is nowhere beyond “now”.

    And if it never comes, I’d tell myself
    The battle is over, and there’s
    Nothing more to win or loose.
    I’ve given my best,
    I got no regrets, And even if I fail, I know I’ve grown, And growth is the ultimate reward.

    If I get to someplace nice,
    I might actually tell the stories
    Of where I’m from, what I’ve been through
    But till then, I will breathe no word.
    I’m afraid of my truths being
    judged, ignored or unloved.
    I have conceived them, birthed them
    and I feel it on me to give them the spotlight,
    So I wait patiently, awaiting the good news

    /1:33 Pm/ 09 Jan 2021
    I remember how it felt, when it came;
    It sailed me to a place, so beautiful
    A place where broken poems heal
    And the words grow meanings.
    There was nothing to say, nothing to know
    Definitely no better place to go
    So I simply watched, the flowers and stars,
    Buzzing bees and tender hearts
    Perfect incomplete poems and torn down stories
    Of which I will now become a part
    ;

  • krishnega 50w

    #personalfavwrites
    20Dec20
    I want to get though, so all that I feel now would become untrue. But, even if I get through, I will always, always remember, how helpless, hopeless and unworthy I now feel.

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    You aren’t okay. You feel the life coming down on you. It’s hard. It’s hard because you’ve been through a beautiful road and you know what it means to have a simple happy life. But now you see the mighty world and successful people. You feel like sapling in the woods. Smothered. Small. Looking up to the sky and tall tress. Wondering if you’ll ever grow. Your heart hurts over every falling leaf, every broken twig. You wonder why, of all people it has to be you. Some nights you feel bad, because you think you brought this on yourself. You think you had a choice. On weekends you hide from the sun and your friends only to crumble on your bed and feel a little more sad.
    But darling, “these are the days that must happen to you”. Life has never been easy for those conceived with dreams. You will fall to an abyss no one can see. You will scream and cry. You will have self-doubts, failures and breakdowns. You will stay there until it terrifies you and you can’t anymore. Your mind will be your greatest foe. Your knees will tremble and the dawn will be too weak. And the time will tide you through endless hopelessness until you’ve nothing to lose. Your every page of diary will smell of a thousand tears. It is in this darkness and in its hollow depth you will toughen up. You will pick yourself up and build and rebuild, and rebuild a million times. The first time is always the hardest. This fight will give you scars, wounds, and lessons.
    But remember, all the trees were once a seed, and had its twig broken by the gentlest breeze.


    -Krish