mobika-maring - Tumblr blog

[mobika-maring]

I still have a long way to go. But, dang..this is such a fun read so far. " 'This Mr Dickens, Matilda, if you get the chance why don't you ask him to fix our generator.' Every other kid turned up to school with similar instructions.They were to ask Mr. Dickens for anti-malaria tablets, aspirin, generator fuel, beer, kerosene, wax candles. We sat at our desks with our shopping lists and waited for Mr. Watts to introduce Mr. Dickens." Thank you @whoopsssssss :) P.S Yea, i couldn't find a bookmark. But, it works the same :D #misterpip #llyodjones #leisurelit

[mobika-maring]

Ripples, that's all they are

I, like everyone else, Is unable to love. I gave myself I, expected Acknowledgement. Six months later, Here I am Expecting to forgive Myself I can't love, myself It was always his job To love me

[mobika-maring]

Chin up, kid

“I miss..I miss my husband” she said with a struggling unfamiliarity with the english language. Par Gyi was a photo journalist whom she probably knew only as a husband and not for his profession. I watched blankly at the screen while getting lost in the words of a white man probably a Taylor or an Aaron reporting on an incident happening in the Burmese land.

It has been a while that I witnessed the kind of unrestrained power someone can unleash when her fate is tested the most. She was barely 5′2. It is safe to assume all asian women are roughly of that scale. With her pale opaque skin but reddened swollen eyes, she showed power. The kind of power I have always admired but, it was always UP there, and far from my grasp. But, it never bothered me that I have to raise my chin to see what it looks like. The reason behind it because one can always be hopeful that someday perhaps I could put my head above the water when the world tries to drown me.

It must be liberating to unleash such wrath. But,not even her indestructible spirit can bring her husband back. I have been told that all of us are capable of using all that we have;that each one of us is capable of strength.For so long I have associated strength with victory. But, how subjective are the two!

Earlier today I was pondering on a thought of whether or not I will ever be capable of raising another living being, completely on my own. A reason for a question with such an existential underlining to pop in my head could be the fact that I was watching my cat, which was once upon a time only a weakly kitten sleep on my bed as an old chap now.

I do not resent children but, I can’t seem to entertain them either. I have not made the decision yet of whether or not I would like one of my own. One of the reason could be the absence of a love partner.Like all things, seasons should pass in solidarity at times. It is only then that one (I) could appreciate a relationship even better.

It could be nice to have a friend within my child though. Thoughts of sharing my experiences of a foreign land through my eyes for my child to visualize what I saw, what I felt, sounds like a wonderful journey.

But, before the friendship and openness to develop I don’t know how I can survive the early years of breastfeeding, sobriety and diaper changing. I don’t have the slightest hint if I’ll have a stable paycheck or struggle to keep balance between normalcy and deprivation.

But if I come home from work one day only to find my son Luca trying on my dress with my make up on his face and tells me he wants to be called Violet from the day onwards.

I will tell him that I’m such a fan of his strength. I will warn him of the voices that will come flooding in and that it’s best he keeps his head above the water. I will tell my son of the indestructibility of the human spirit.I will tell him that all this while his mother has been looking up for inspiration while strength lived in her womb for nine whole months.

I will tell him that strength does not necessarily means victory.

But, that’s okay.

And when all things fails…

Chin up, kid

[mobika-maring]

I doubt there’ll be a time when I tell myself I’m too old for this shizz. The thought used to disturb me before but now it’s comforting :)

[mobika-maring]

"ur bra strap is showing" u say

children begin to scream

tears r streaming down my face

my parents disown me and sell me to a shady, moustached man for three goats

no one can ever kno i wear a bra

[mobika-maring]

Spot the weirdo kinda picture :D

[mobika-maring]

Hi you! ! :)

Introduce yourself human :)

[mobika-maring]

I think I cried more times in 2014 than I did when I was a baby.probably

[mobika-maring]

Feeling timeless :)

[mobika-maring]

However weather. #b&w #shillong #winter-is-coming

[mobika-maring]

Playing catching up, I guess #friends #shillong #teaandcoffee #homecoming

[mobika-maring]

Weirdness is acceptable with weird friends. #shillong #friends #cafeshillong #winter #awesomeweather #home

[mobika-maring]

With two of the Birthday people. Friends & Celebration. #TOIT #bangalore

[mobika-maring]

Sunny day.Grey filter.

[mobika-maring]

We be doing this till we're old. I mean older :D

[mobika-maring]

‘F’ FOR FALSE PROMISES

Fault in my vulnerability In your choice of words, Sweetened too many. Fault was your spontaneity, I even let you call me Baby Fault was our fate. It was to be blamed,ultimately. But, fate never stopped you When I wanted you to call me. Fault was our obvious distance I played my cards, not wisely. Floated feet Let to too much positivity. Fault was the honesty; In your voice I found too much comfort in. “Fuck the world” we said With a little too much pride. Loneliness succumbed, Your days and my nights. Equated,yet far apart Fault was daydreaming With no concrete plans. Foolishly I went along, A yearful of intimate dance. But now reduced to fragility Of what is to come Tears falling Your face still lovely Fault was in you Fault was in me Fault was in our fate; Too many maybe’s Tragic ending is the way to be False promises You left me, clearly Hold on I begged Far too many But Fine, leave! Take your false promises They don’t need me.

[mobika-maring]

Work in progress

Tumblr is the worst and also the best place to be in after a break up. And also, I really really really really really need to talk to new people. Anon/ non  Anon , everyone's welcomed. Be cruel, be nice Be New!