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[opheliaschamber]

“In all institutions that are not open to the biting air of public criticism an innocent corruption flourishes like a fungus (as, for example, in learned bodies and senates).”

— Friedrich Nietzsche, Human, All Too Human, 468

[opheliaschamber]

babe wake up new italian brothers karamazov 1969 edit just dropped

[opheliaschamber]

People aren't homes, they never will be. People are rivers, always changing, forever flowing. They will disappear with everything you put inside them.

~ Nikita Gill

[opheliaschamber]

There is something about classic literature that hits different - which is not to say that modern literature lacks depth - there is just something so incredible about reading something and knowing that these same words were consumed by people decades, centuries before you took your first breath. And they loved and felt the stories the way you do& despite all the time separating you you’re still connected…

[opheliaschamber]

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜

Dostoevsky looked at you like he did any other man. An absence.

For years of working under Dostoevsky, he's made it very clear to you that your feelings will not only be non-reciprocated, but also ignored.

“Have you ever had feelings for me that went beyond simple infatuation?” A small chuckle escaped Dostoevsky, “What led you to believe that I was even remotely infatuated with you in the first place?”

Dostoevsky was a cruel man, and you knew that.

Although he was heinous in his words— “Where do you think you're going?” Dostoevsky asked from behind you, standing a few steps from his desk. You paused, slowly turning around before giving him a small head bow, “Sigma requested that we meet at the casino. Will you allow me to go, Dostoevsky?”

Keeping your head low, you heard the heels of Dostoevsky's shoes clack onto the floor as he made his way closer to you. Dostoevsky placed a gloved hand under your chin and made you look up at him, a gentle smile on his face, yet it still managed to send shivers down your spine at the sight of it.

“I'm afraid I can't let you go, F/n. I still have a job that you have yet to fulfill.”—Dostoevsky still held a possessive nature around you.

Dostoevsky had a habit of berating you for doing something with people other than him. He wanted you to stay close to him, and only him, because he loved you.

... He loved you?

No— He didn't feel love; he felt obsession.

Dostoevsky was obsessed with you.

He will do anything—and I mean anything—to keep you near him. Although he might not make it up to you in words, you were able to discern his true intentions from his behavior.

You smiled up at Dostoevsky, “I understand, Sir.” He could only grin at your obedience. “Excellent.”

Dostoevsky was equally fixated on you as you were with him.

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜

[opheliaschamber]

My new book, "The flock of wind", out now on Amazon and Flipkart.

One of "those" books, indescribably close to my heart, Please do purchase, read and promote!

Link on Amazon: https://amzn.eu/d/5V7jwBG

Link on Flipkart: https://www.flipkart.com/the-flock-of-wind/p/itm1c0080e243828?pid=9781636409993&lid=LSTBOK97816364099935MWA1T&marketplace=FLIPKART&q=the+flock+of+wind&store=bks&pageUID=1695554400262

[opheliaschamber]

For Madhav♡

If Madhav is the local train, I am His loyal passenger.

If He's the flock of wind, I am the pigeon which flies against the wind,

And if He is Shakespeare, then I am Ophelia.

[opheliaschamber]

I smile at the pair of them.

My past, younger-self was looking at the mirror with costly, progressive lenses, and yet, she could see nothing but blinding darkness.

I looked at the mirror, without any glasses, only with my bare eyes,

And I saw every nook and cranny, that the mirror offered.

[opheliaschamber]

[opheliaschamber]

Bombay wind, fatal sunlight, the mogra-seller, pebbly architecture, local train anecdotes, the kind woman offering water, red lipgloss, snapshots, black shoes, plugged earpieces, tears, farewell, window seats. The peanut seller, unusual taxi rides, bad days, deemed colleges, 7 am mornings, freezing milkshakes.

[opheliaschamber]

In my dreams,

For the umpteenth time, I lie on Madhav's lap, but this time, we eat mango slices together.

A new beginning awaits me, a beginning clamped with many plays, dialogues, stories and their authors.

A beginning which was drowning in words.

"Literature and humanities do love you much more than you love them," Madhav said.

[opheliaschamber]

Nine years ago, on this very same ground, I had learnt how to ride a bicycle.

Nine years from then, I am learning how to drive a scooter.

I imagine to meet her. I imagine to meet the 9 year old me, we ride alongside.

And when, she loses balance of the bicycle, I leave my vehicle to pieces in order to save her from falling; that's the least I can do.

[opheliaschamber]

Behind the Krishna temple, a pair of swing sets stand awaiting.

I have always had a public fascination for swing sets. They comprise a lion's share of my childhood;

But the swing sets behind the temple though, They are one of their own kind.

Unscientifically enough, they oscillate on their own or without much labour.

Could it be sheer irony that the swing set behind a Krishna temple oscillates on its own, without any labour?

[opheliaschamber]

@awkcatto Thankyou so much tagging🫶🏽

Here is a list of things, i wish to accomplish before I pass away:

1. I wish to bring glory to Indian literature and its future.

2. I wish to travel to Manali alone, atleast once.

3. I want to spend an entire night on marine drive w my partner.

4. I want to visit all the mythological places of Mahabharata.

5. I want to launch a feminist organization in Mumbai.

6. I want to excel in my writing career.

Before I pass away, there are a few things I'd like to accomplish...

1. I aspire to launch a charming café with an aesthetic touch and/or a flower shop.

2. My dream is to set up a cozy library in my own home.

3. I have a strong desire to embark on a solo journey...

4. I really want to meet her @ashlakh in person..

5. I have read a lot about Kashi(bnaras) in books and I want to visit there to see its beautiful sights...

—tagging @ashlakh @27paperlilies @violetsinsummer @disproportionatelysculpting @dailypoetryforyou @decaffeinatedladytale @sirf-uski-lilac011019 @meanslackofart @sirf-usska-raghav @morally-gayy @pinkvillain @damnn-dorothea @chanda-chamke-cham-cham @moons-scar @waitingforthesunrise @shudhdesibalika @scribblesbyavi @tiredandcaffeinated @tired-of-dunyah @timepasswithdee @pyaari-kanyaa @preet-ki-latt-laagi @why-lakshhh @khazaanchi @zaynloves1d –open tag 😮‍💨😮‍💨

[opheliaschamber]

In collective moments like these, I wonder how would I be as an old woman;

How would I turn out with greying hair, loose and baggy skin, and with fragile muscles?

And if I would even have any eyesight left by then,

How would life turn out by the time I reach the 6th-7th decade of life?

How would I look like cleaning verandas or grazing through lanes?

[opheliaschamber]

"Time doesn't require time to change our lives within the blink of an eye. I was worrying about a multitude of things last year. Today, I stand unparallel to where I stood yesterday,"

Watching wild trees chasing each other from the train window,

I huffed a breath.

It's been almost a year since I had travelled with the passenger express,

Life crumbled into pieces and stood back again on bruised knees.

I also realised that I was beginning to reach adulthood now.

I waved at a little girl in the compartment, something which only elder women did with me, when I was a little girl.

I stare at dry yards and empty tunnels for a very long time, until I begin to see myself in the yards.

I and Madhav, chasing each other, as summer transitions the coolest regions of Maharashtra into greenhouses.