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  • khola_hawa 4w

    ~In Between The Seasons~

    We have been taught by our conservative parents in our teenage days " Larko pe zada biswas maat Karna, phook phook ke kadam rakhna" etc etc"

    As we grew up, society taught us to hide our voice in the whispers of "Dahleez" so that we can water well the tree of patriarchy which should strengthen its root at our "Sasural".

    Our "Sasural" taught us to put kids , husband before your wishes. "Sanskari bahu Jo banna hai".

    The meadows of freedom that once used to enlighten your soul, should be cherished at a distance, perhaps freedom should just be limited to binge eating while watching Netflix only.

    Less often in this journey, you will encounter a zephyr, a forbidden path, that will unlatch this cage and you will learn to fly with broken wings and sing with dusted ,tattered beaks.

    Ask me then dearest, who caged you? Society , Patriarchy, Sasural or your parents?

    Most often answer will be your own inhibition.
    In order to visit the waters of unknown ,you have to leave the comfort of familiar land.

    Believe everything and everybody but with a grain of salt!

    ~Khola Hawa


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  • khola_hawa 5w

    And there must have been that moment, a threshold where standing at the horizon of life and death,
    You chose life.
    You chose hope.
    You chose yourself.
    Must be a very unsettling feeling, Like the silence before the rumble of the avalanche. Your eyes must have shed some meaningful tears that day.
    After all, it was the first time in your life you embraced yourself.
    Liberated you must have felt
    To no longer shrink your heart
    In their ribs to feel loved
    Homecoming it is,
    In all true sense.

    Khola hawa


    Edit: @writersnetwork thanks for the repost

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  • khola_hawa 6w

    Collect your pieces that they threw away
    With hate and neglect
    Heal it with more love this time
    Don't forget to build your heart a bit tougher
    This time
    But fill it with more gratitude for yourself
    Make it capable to see things
    You have never seen before
    Your life can never be a cemetery of losses

    Again n Again.

    ~Khola hawa

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  • khola_hawa 13w

    Attachment bleeds you slowly until
    You decide to let go.

    It's is our beliefs that determine how our life shapes attachments. And these beliefs we inculcate either from our surroundings, traumatic past or abandonment wounds from childhood. Letting go is never easy as we are forcing these beliefs towards something unknown leaving the boundaries of "being comfortable" and familiarity. That's the reason being in control seems so safe and we start influencing the outcome as well.

    ������ ������������ �������������� ���� �������� ���� �������� ������������������
    ☆Being aware of your attachments or things that keep you trapped unknowingly.
    ☆Realise - you can drop your attachments any time.
    ☆Letting go of the idea to fit in other people's frame or validation.
    ☆Meditate to raise your frequency and align with your consciousness.

    ℂ���������� ��������������.

    @����ℴ���� ��������


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    Attachment bleeds you slowly until
    You decide to let go

  • khola_hawa 63w

    I wear a mask each day
    Someday of a lover, someday a healer,
    A chaperone, a warrior or a sinner
    and others mostly a simple meek woman.

    Camouflaging tears with smile
    Fear with stamina,
    Anxiety with serenity,
    Prevision with reality,
    Depression with perfection
    Have become my pursuit, these days.

    Sometimes, I glorify heartbreak
    Leaving a trail behind
    As a part of my soul,
    But in tiny fragments,
    For you to fix and follow
    And see the beauty in healing,
    So empowered, unfettered and free;

    While others I paint the town red for you
    with the warmth of my enigma
    Border them deep with whims,
    To let you sail
    Along the ripples of your
    Deepest yearning.

    I want to weave a dream where
    Embers of wildfire die sooner,
    Scars heal, miracles happen,
    How at the end hope and joy embrace
    And Tragedy drowns in murky despair;

    I want you to believe in life.

    But, have you ever noticed
    the Language of my eyes?
    They are as broken as yours
    But supposed to
    Be hidden behind the copyrights.

    You smile, praise, clap, honour
    For I am the so-called poet of your slam
    and my poetry is your perfect Chameleon

    ~khola hawa

    #writersnetwork #pod #mirakee

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    You smile, praise, clap, honour
    For I am the so-called poet of your slam
    and my poetry is your perfect Chameleon

  • khola_hawa 63w

    ������'�� �������� ���������� ����������, �������������� ������ ���������������������� ����������

    It is in the rumours, Peace, harmony and equilibrium are perhaps three abandoned daughters, life seem to forget deliberately, from time to time.

    For long, I have watched peace shrivel and curl in the flames of acceptance. Also, witnessed harmony lingering alongside, in disdain and hostility, for a day so perfect, To rise for an attempt to enforce its existence. Equilibrium too played its role right, to snare opportunities of settlement. But, they were all but careful enough not to start grumbling about life.

    However, soul is their beloved mother with fierceness, iron will and a lionheart making her an invincible partner. She never rants or rages but rather plays to win on life.

    Everyone knew peace, harmony and equilibrium were, are and will forever be in the bloodline, yet life seems yet to be ready to embrace them.
    Till then, I will just wait with you and smile for the inevitable. Rather Beam to be precise.

    ~Khola Hawa
    #writersnetwork #mirakee

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  • khola_hawa 67w

    Aren't we all starving, trudging too hard,
    through the alleys of unjust
    To fit in the archetype of perfection?
    But what for, if I may ask?

    Staining the canopy of true happiness
    With vague trophies of ambition & appetite
    While being bruised inside,
    Does it really worth?

    A mere existence, poisoned,
    An endearment, filled with void
    Do you want a reality
    Swallowed by dust of time?

    Humans give it a thought!


    #writersnetwork #mirakee

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  • khola_hawa 69w

    "It has been rumoured in the community that you are depressed and soon to be divorced." Mother screamed in a worried tone.
    " Even if this is true, God forbid not, I am most certain yours was nothing but a love match the last time I checked " she continued without a trace of motherly caress.

    I bit my lips nervously, which has now gone quite dry complementing my pale face and hollowed eye socket as if all the rain in this world failed miserably to drench my preached heart.

    “Sometimes . . .” I said in a halting voice, “Mother, sometimes explanations are tough and there are reasons for our fears that we can’t quite formulate in mere words. It's embedded deep in our bones and we are wired to fit in the weather-worn gaps of society. This slices my heart in two every single day and the hand that wields the pain is none but mine. Mother, I feel like a frontline soldier, battling hard, wound stitched with faltered hope and frayed edge, and fated to die.
    Something I know to be true, but would sound foolish to anyone else, including you”
    I stared at her intuitively hoping she finds my fears, something very specific that haunted me every minute of every day and I know she knew that.

    Soon I could see her emotions slowly getting immersed in the motherly hue. I was soothed as if she knew with every fibre of her being what I was speaking about. Her eyes caught a flash of pain in the brief second before she embraced me in her arms.

    In her bosom, I felt home tenderly she caressed my hair and cupped my face in her gentle hands and said
    "We all die in the end, love.
    It is important how we live during the years when we are breathing. Fears will stay as long as you have a brain that can think and imagine."

    ~khola hawa

    Artwork credits @dianapedott

    @writersnetwork @mirakee
    #writersnetwork #mirakee

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  • khola_hawa 71w

    -----������������ ���� �� ����������������������-----

    Beauty had already been adequately discussed, drilled, dissected and this scribbler does not know what else to add or how to expand this topic, without being redundant. As you, my dear reader, already know, this two syllabic word has quite a handful of reputation by itself, in the breaths of rakes and rouges or the pages of social media of some barking feminists.

    But after a scrupulous and tedious reflection, this author feels the need to add a few syllabi of her judgment too on this subject.

    You must have been imprinted with the fact from childhood that beauty lies in the eyes of a beholder.
    But, I say, The patriarchal eyes of this society or yet another passer-by can give a mere definition of the word which is of aesthetic prominence only and has nothing noteworthy to bestow on its inner meaning.

    Beauty, my dear, is not what those two eyes perceive nor a mindless concept of arousing that trudge the uncouth beholder to the lanes of fantasy being oblivious from reality.

    Beauty is rather simple, modest. Beauty is large, small, petite, perfect, imperfect, bruised and whatnot, but never to be confined in the page or a line of the dictionary. One would rather find it similar to a mirror. You smile and it smiles back. You love it and it loves back .Sort of a blessing with a benediction and devotion all in one.

    Is there a necessity to add a definition to it?
    Perhaps, not.

    Yet, this poet is utmost sure that beauty sometimes too, just like you and me, feels a twinge of guilt or perhaps a touch of regret for being not so beautiful.

    But as I always say to my readers, let not the greys of winter dictate the warmth of your Spring.

    ~ Khola Hawa
    ��The credits of this mesmerising ball pen art go to none other than @biswaal Sir.

    #writersnetwork #mirakee #pod @writernetwork @mirakee

    23.01.2021 || @writersnetwork thank you so much for the repost. You are a gem ����

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  • khola_hawa 71w

    You're like a song of the ruins
    With shackled tongue
    And insidious soul
    engraved in the hauntings of yore
    sombre and hideous;

    Your melody trade dreams
    Much Like vague fantasies,
    Somewhat elusive
    With gaping lesions
    Exposed and thumping
    With vulnerability ;

    But your lyrics
    Always like a balmy murmur,
    Captivate my tear-soaked heart
    Between the horizons of
    Truth and fantasy
    And abscond my wistful solitude
    To the meadows of hope;

    My lips arch wide in rhythm
    While misery perish
    Bit by bit
    In the melodies of your tune.

    And I wonder
    Who is in a hurry to heal?

    -khola hawa

    #melody #writersnetwork #mirake #wod

    Edit : @writersnetwork thank you so much for the repost.���� Please keep supporting.

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    You're like a song
    of the ruins
    With shackled tongue
    And insidious soul
    engraved in the hauntings of yore
    sombre and hideous.