Author: jalatamelon

Discovered the Blogging Community, Rediscovered how I can speak to the world. Infinite obsessions. Midnight Dreamer Believer. Teen Blogger. Or I just like to call myself that.

The Midnight Shower

Turqoise toenails tip toed onto the bamboo sticks that gently massaged the soles of her feet

In the midst of the deep prussian blue of the midnight sky, embellished with stars that glistened in the moonlight

she found herself in a moment of deep affection, caressing her body unlike ever before

she stretched as her arms reached the faucet through which the lukewarm droplets of water melted on her skin

breathing,

her fingers now ran through her her hair, lifting it up while she hummed a sweet melody

her mind and body, finally, able to breathe in sync

none oppressing the other

for there had grown, a sapling that needed nourishment from both parts of her

the sapling of love

true, timeless, pure

willingly, the mind caressed the body as the body caressed the mind

Her palms resting on the back of her neck, her face lifted towards the sky

She stood in the same position, endlessy, in the warm droplets under the deep prussian blue of the midnight sky

A candle filling the room with warmth and a faint, light

It was her body, soul and mind enjoying the silent night.

For a moment, I drowned.

The water went inside me

Cradled my heart full of tears

lifted it out of my body

and sunk within the ocean’s layers

On a bed of soft silt

my heart felt happy

drowned in the deep blue abyss

my arteries and veins

flushed out the anguish and worry.

-J

Hope.

Our Bond

Is intertwined

our fingers weaved within each other’s

palm’s exchanging the energy of one another

And these hands

extend across

the universe

across

the barriers

while our faces can never meet

each other.

Humility

Let us pray

That may our souls become as pure as

the world sees it to be.

-J

Breathe

Why is it that every inch of my body twitches to smile at the mirror?

Why does my face frown?

Why do my eyes envision that which the world has ordered me to see?

When I know that this is not my true capability?

Why can’t I believe?

Why do I need someone else to empower me?

Why must I regret what I eat and how less I sleep?

Why can’t I enjoy my life fully?

Breathe.

You become what you believe.

Strong.

Your heart and soul filled with nourishing positivity.

Smile

Because your body radiates everlasting beauty.

Breathe

Because you become what you believe.

-J

A light so dim

My nerves

clawing to

the beasts within

the

cowards that sin

my body radiating a

light so dim

that expands

ever so slowly.

Drenched.

I can’t seem to find a path to you, I run every single step wondering and hoping and breathing with every bit of hope left in the air. I can’t speak, my soul is gated, my heart is painted, and my eyes cannot see. And then my legs shake of exhaustion and worry and grief, my voice quivers ever so faintly, and my heart sinks beneath my feet. And just as my hands were about to dig themselves into the soil, a jolt of lightning strikes at the very center of my soul. You lit my heart with an everlasting burn, and you drenched my soul with your pouring rain.

I found you.

-J

Inspired by Mulk Raj Anand.

Midnight.

The festivities continued. I find myself lurking in the nooks and crannies of the recently constructed temporary bazaars, covered in vibrant layers of cloth, translucent enough for the painful bright light to pass through and tint the floors with various hues.

The smell of sweet paan curls into my nostrils, I feel the warmth of the steam let off by a huge utensil, into which a thick layer of condensed milk and chai leaves are stirred vigorously by a bony old man, with skin like tissues.

There’s a vendor, exhausted from attempting to hypnotize his foreign customers with wooden toys he bought off a young boy on the street. ‘Specially carved by the greatest of our sculptors in Rajasthan’ he says.

Truth is, they were made in a Chinese factory.

I walk towards the food counter, and all I see is a menu full of bland sandwiches and ‘Lays’.

I walk further away from the stall and find myself going towards the Lucky Draw counter.

‘Ah medam! You’ve won a beautiful doll!’

It’s a blonde, blue eyed, pink dressed barbie with ‘Amy’ written on it.

Disgusted, I give the gift to the young girl standing eagerly in the corner, in her only brightly coloured purple dress, the fire in her eyes when she grabs the doll does not comfort me.

A women shrieks ‘it’s the perfect gift for her, So modern!’

It’s some wonky strappy dress made of the worst material I’ve ever seen.

I walk further away from this fare, or bazaar, or whatever you’d like to call it.

I walk up to the beaming, gloating fat man standing at the entrance of the bazaar with gold rings on his fingers and a stupid foreign flag pin on his silk buttoned shirt.

‘They’ve done it again haven’t they. Stripped off all our cultural pride.

we’re fools.’

-J

Butterfly wing potion.

So you see at times, there’s a huge row of butterflies swarming around you, infiltrating your vision with bright hues of vivid splashes of colours that contrast your shade of daily monotone.

And I wish I could drown in the wings of those butterflies

So bright so full of life, soaring to the skies

Okay Im out.

-J