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[crushedgreyflower]

I have always thought how much i relate to Jo March. But yesterday i realised much more. I am all the March sisters. I care more to be loved yes but i am also an empath, i am also a hopeless romantic who dreams of finding that one who is perfect for me, i am also the one who ends up loving that one person only to never be noticed. I feel all at once and sometimes i do not feel anything at all. I have been thinking about this since yesterday. How i yearn to be understood , to be loved, to be seen. How i have made least efforts with friendships, to ask them what is going on with them, to take a step and communicate but also have listened to my friends who made efforts to talk to me, i have carried the burden of their sadness with me. I have been day dreaming of that perfect meet, living in cottage house with my soulmate, escaping the world with a man who understands, to give up everything for him. I have loved people who never loved me back the same way, who never looked at me the way the way i wish to be looked, i have been their "your other friend". I have been content with myself too, i have been happy but i also feel so lonely. It's to a point that words can't hold me anymore, i am still slipping away, i am still drifting away from everything and there is nothing i am able to do about it.

[crushedgreyflower]

[ID: A picture of a page in a book. Its contents show a poem titled "Doggerel for My Cat" accompanied by a small illustration of a black-and-white tuxedo cat standing below the poem's text. The cat stands facing the reader with a pleasant smile, his tail curled slightly. The text of the poem reads: "His paws are white, his ears are black. / When he isn't around I feel the lack. / His purr is loud, his fur is soft. / He always carries his tail aloft. / His gait is easy, his gaze intense. / He wears a tuxedo to all events. / His toes are prickly, his nose is pink. / I like to watch him sit and think. / His breed is Alley, his name is Pard. / Life without him would be hard." /End ID]

"Doggerel for My Cat" by Ursula K. Le Guin from page 154 of her collection No Time To Spare: Thinking About What Matters

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- WB Yeats

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I can't stop crying.

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Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley (1797–1851), Frankenstein, manuscript, MS. Abinger c.56, fols. 20v – 21r, 1816 – 1817. The Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford.

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SPOILERS FOR TBONA

Taylor Swift wrote “The Archer” for Jacks and no one can change my mind

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musings on grief

Evan Knoll, Grave of the Fireflies, Stephen Dobyns, Pablo Neruda, Donte Collins, Vincent Van Gogh, Natalie Diaz, Hannah Lock, @metamorphesque , Anna Akhmatova, Ocean Vuong

buy me a coffee

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I just want to remember this thread, remember this part of humanity

Every single odd number has an “e” in it.

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The forever dilemma to be an academic but also have a stable permanent job but also run towards passion but also do nothing? Yeah

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How to unlearn anger? How do you leave the home of sadness? How to forget people who don't leave your thoughts? How to know oneself when the whole world has already painted you with their colors?

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Someday, if i give you my life, will you turn it into art and make me immortal?

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Quite corner, winter night, stars shining the brightest. All I can think is how stars witness thousands of souls who share their secrets and dreams everyday since the beginning of time. Maybe stars shine because we feed them dreams. Maybe they are the unshed tears of thousands of lost souls gleaming and giving hope to thousands of people who still have hope.

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Dancing Fairies (1866) - August Malmström

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Academia Aesthetic But Make It Indian

Pulling an all - nighter fueled by a herbal concoction that is one of your family recipe.

Discussing literature with your friends on zoom call over a cup of masala chai and Parle - G.

Having an enviable collection of jumkas.

Visiting the libraries (with appropriate precautions), museums, art galleries, ancient buildings and temples.

Studying in the temples/gurudwaras (if permitted, with due respect and measures). The dhoop-batti infused tranquility transporting you to the ancient times.

Lightening up an agar-batti or a dhoop-batti because scented candles are a bit too expensive and you're broke from buying that recent stack of books.

Draping a shawl that you borrowed from your parent's/grandparent's collection on cool winter months. Feeling like a royalty everytime it flutters with the wind.

Learning a classical language out of sheer fascination.

Reading your notes pretentiously to anyone who's willing to listen.... even if they're your plants/pets.

Getting up super early in the morning to study and feeling like a scholar from ancient times.

Coming up with your own concoction for your favourite beverage but secretly loving the way your mum makes it.

Pairing your Punjabi/Rajasthani Juttis with your every fancy outfit and Kolhapuri Chhappals with your every casual outfits.

Reading The Ramayana, The Bhagwat Geeta, The Vedas, The Mahabharata for the fascination of it or just because you want to!

Mumbling a mantra or a shloka that you used to listen from people around you as a kid, under your breath.

Quoting Ambedkar in your conversations.

Discussing about the ancient Greek, Roman, Norse, Egyptian or Pagan beliefs with your friends or your cousins or anybody who's interested.

Reading about all the scientists and mathematicians from ancient India and thinking about the apparatuses they used to counduct their respective researches.

Putting up the posters of your favourite personalities from the past and sticking tiny notes stating the attributes you find fascinating.

Looking upon the local women who broke the traditional roles and appreciating their valor.

Drinking nimbu-paani/Glucon-D out of the cups reserved for guests and feeling like a royalty.

Sticking up calligraphically written derivations on the walls and desks and the doors of cupboards..... basically any available surface, displaying them like your trophies.

Ditching ridiculously expensive eyeliner for your dadi's homemade kajal.

Swinging your chunni pretentiously everytime you make a valid point in a friendly debate with your "enemy" on whom you've a crush, feeling like a Harry Potter character.

Having a signature attar that announces your presence before you enter.

Downloading banned books and reading them secretly in family functions.

Tucking wild flowers behind your best friends' ear as you braid each other's hair in the school's loo.

Getting into arguments into public transport, in the classroom, on the tea stall and citing relevant points with sources.

Being the "pleasure to have in class" but also "should listen more and involve less into arguments with teachers."

Discussing mantras with your friends and learning new ones together.

Arching one eyebrow and smirking as you listen to an excellent piece of music.

Sharing playlist as you and your love sits under a tree reciting poetries to each other.

Going on a "street food discovery spree" with your friends all the while discussing about the deadly chemical medleys you read about in your chemistry class.

Practicing meditation and yoga as the first rays of sun hit the ground. (taking care of your mental health is a part of aesthetic too)

Borrowing your family heirlooms for special occasions and treating them as your most prized possessions.

Practicing classical dance/music (for people like me, who haven't practiced any and would require to train for a long time for the aforementioned arts, Shankh/conch shell is one musical instrument that is probably the easiest to play and doesn't require any prior training.)

Wrapping yourself in your grandfather's coats and feeling his warmth seep in through that piece of clothing...... also, a slight smell of Vicks.

Visiting the local fair and buying more jhumkas because you can never have enough, tbh.

Listening to Agamani-Vijaya songs as you stroll through the College Street, browsing the books.

Addressing your beloved after the names of uncharted scientists and philosophers.

Dhoti pants and khadi tops are go to summer apparels.

Leaving your crush's favourite flowers in their notes with sweet poetries you wrote for them in the candle light.

Sending magniloquent letters to your best friends and pretending to be pen-pals.

Vibing to Bhatiyali as you walk through the Howrah Bridge, imagining yourself as the protagonist of one of Taslima Nasrin's books.

Please feel free to add more!

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I don't want sleep

I want to look at the moon for eternity

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I don't even know you,

But I didn't know the moon either

And I loved him before I knew.

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Sometimes I just sit and think about us humans. How have we considered ourselves so superior to every other being we know and then go on making assumption about beings in the outer space who we have never even seen that maybe they are intelligent than us. I find it extremely stupid and many times amazing how we dream, how we name the stars, name ourselves, name the stars after the people we love. How we label love with various emotions. How we divided into classes and made sections and called the whole lot as society. How we blame ourselves and hypocrisy on society. How we find happiness by turning mud into shapes and paint the colours. How we see the world and it's wonders and still sometimes refuse to believe there can be something that made us all. How we are ignorant and present at the same time.